ZeroTwo 🖤

Hello!! I'm Mika! 24 she/her 

[cyancherub]

@zerotwoswaifuu​ THE CROSSOVER OF THE CENTURY

[zerotwoswaifuu]

Please take my money

[fratboyitadori]

Double-Crossed Out Pt. 1 (of 2)

pairing // kugisaki nobara x fem!reader, slight mentions of itadori yuuji x fem!reader

genre // smut + horror, university!au

aged up characters (21+)

nsfw and gore, minors DO NOT interact

part one word count // 11.3k

For @cyancherub ’s Wheel of Misfortune collab. I haven’t written fic in so long, nor have I ever written horror, but I love Nobara so so much and had to jump at the chance to write for her because there is a criminal lack of Nobara smut out there. I also drew a lot of inspiration from one of my favorite movies of all time, Jennifer’s Body, so be warned. There will be a second part that I will post either tomorrow or Saturday and Part 1 is relatively tame in comparison. (If I missed any warnings, please let me know so I can add them!)

WARNINGS FOR PART ONE (please, please read) horror and general warnings: mentions of vomit, blood, alcohol, cannibalism, detailed descriptions of corpses, graphic depictions of violence, graphic descriptions of gore, death, romantic pining, love triangle (ish), reader is kind of mean, maybe cheating if you squint

nsfw warnings: sexual tension, teasing and foreplay, flashing (kind of?), stocking and pantyhose kink, foreplay, marking/biting, fingering, edging, slight manhandling, lots of nipple play, the mythical female orgasm

FULL TEXT

You sigh, staring into the water-speckled mirror and dabbing cool water to your eyes with one of the scratchy brown paper towels you had pried from the dispenser next to the sink. For all your effort, you absolutely could not wipe away the tar-like black stains around your mouth. You look like you had been run through a wash and dry cycle on high heat, all washed out and smudgy and shrunken in. Your hair hangs limp and greasy and lifeless, and your expression is stuck at sour regardless of how much you try to poke and pinch some color into your cheeks. You had left the apartment in leggings, for fuck’s sake. It was all a far cry from the highly polished appearance you normally prided yourself on. You made a point of always being the kind of girl that people-regardless of gender-would double take when you passed.

Really, considering the state of your everything, the fact that you even left the apartment that morning at all was anyone’s guess. One hell of a hangover, you guess, that had to be why you couldn’t remember a thing since leaving Itadori and Fushiguro’s place the night previous. You can’t remember a thing before frantically scrubbing at the black gunk on your face and clothes and-you look back at the stall behind you and shudder at what could only be likened to the remnants of an exploded octopus splattered on the walls and inching along the floor. Yikes.

Keep reading

[tygalilywhims]

Jasmine and Bergamot

(AN: Part of @cyancherub's collab, Wheel of Misfortune! Let us sin 😏

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI monsterfucking (cause it's Akaza), A/B/O dynamics, scent kink, some blood kink, pain/impact play, predator/prey dynamics, a LOT of sexual tension, knots, a cervix kiss, oral sex (fem! receiving)

Pairing: alpha!(?)Akaza x omega!fem!Reader

WC: 7.9k)

Summary: Your father was fond of calling you "nonstandard" as an omega. He's right, but in the wrong ways.

Whatever expectations that were placed upon your shoulders when you started to show signs of being an omega, they were quickly waved away. Your father, when he was sizing up a potential suitor from your small, country village, was fond of calling you “nonstandard.”

Little changed about you as you matured. With the exception of cooping yourself up in your room every few months during your heat, you didn’t slack in your duties when helping your family run their store or with chores around the house. You made your trips to and from the market, as expected, for trading. You made sure to procure a fair deal each time, and you helped your mother wrangle the younger kids when she needed you to.

You also had your fair share of suitors. In a village lacking any alphas, but with a few omegas like yourself, the others weren’t as intimidated to approach you for courtship. There was no scary competition or peacocking alphas to contend with, only you and your parents’ scrutinizing gazes, which understandably filled some of the others with confidence.

Only for you to unintentionally crush their preconceptions.

Unlike most omegas, with their cloying scents that are pleasant but fleeting, never overstaying their welcome, you found out quickly that your scent clings and lingers, even long after you are gone. Your scent glands are larger and more potent, and your scent clings to you, and your family, like fog. An effect of being in an area with no alphas, the baker’s husband—an omega like yourself—explains to you. In theory it makes it easier to attract an alpha, if one were to ever appear in the village.

In reality, the strength of your scent and the way it lingers almost acts like a deterrent. As you got older, as your scent matures, you notice people making way for you or your family as you pass. It becomes easier when you trade to get deals for your family. When they step into your home, you notice some of your suitors have to catch themselves when they realize your scent permeates the air.

Now at twenty years old, it even overpowers your parents. It claims them, and it envelopes your younger siblings. It marks them.

Almost like an alpha’s.

You’re not naive enough to suddenly think you’ll be flooring any alphas you come across. But it makes you uneasy to see friends of yours now suddenly walking on eggshells around you. You’ve become treated as an “other” thing, the people who you once were close to now are sometimes too afraid to look at you, as if there’s a hidden retribution waiting for them if they don’t behave correctly. Whether it be from you, which you try to tell them would never happen, or from an imaginary alpha their instincts have conjured in place of you.

“This happens with some omegas.” An older omega explains to you and your parents. “Although it’s unknown if this is evolutionary or not, sometimes an omega will have a strong scent or presence about them. It’s not certain if this is to attract an especially strong-willed alpha or because there aren’t any alphas present. Whatever the reason, it’s why your scent lingers and why it’s so strong.” She smiles at you. “This could be the start of something great for you and your family.”

“So it would be a waste if you married a beta from around here,” your mother says. “And just crazy if you married another omega. Maybe we should look for outside suitors? An alpha, maybe, or a beta with higher standing? With a scent like yours, I’d imagine you won’t have any trouble getting some attention.”

You know what they’re saying is logical. Even if this small village is home, if being with your family is all you’ve truly desired, isn’t that a small price to pay to get your family started along a more prosperous path?

And yet, as you cry quietly to yourself that night, you wonder when your parents stopped seeing you as a daughter and started seeing you as a stepping stone.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Don’t wander away too far. It’s dangerous, and you’ll have your heat soon.”

You only give an idle wave to your father as you bundle yourself up. “I know, papa. I’ve done this before plenty of times, it won’t take long.”

Your father calls your name in a stern voice, one he hasn’t used with you in years. Startling, you turn to face him immediately. His eyes are heavy-set and tense.

“Be careful. There’s been talk of people going missing in the wilderness lately. It won’t be safe for you if you wander too far away.”

You set your lips in a straight line. “You and mama always say that there are people who hunt monsters at night, right? If it’s true, then I’ll be safe. And if not, I’ll come right back home. I promise.”

You can tell by his expression that he’d rather if you stayed home, but he drops it. He’s always had a soft spot for you.

There’s a small nature trail that you like to walk along just on the outskirts of the village. You’ve been through them several times, recognize all of the trail marks that will lead you back home when you’re finished. While still being unclaimed and without an alpha, your heats are usually unpleasant. You feel constantly irritable and the pain you experience in your abdomen varies from dull to unbearable. And to say little of the unfulfilled desire that courses through your veins. This bit of fresh air makes it bearable as you hole yourself up in your room while your family tiptoes around you like you’re a wild animal.

Autumn leaves pepper the worn trail as you take your time walking through the wilderness. The crisp air is refreshing and welcome along your skin, already feeling warm in preparation of your oncoming heat. Idly, your mind wanders to what it will be like once you’re finally married off. The steadily sinking feeling in your chest tells you it’s an inevitability instead of a possibility. Will your potential mate be kind? Understanding? If they are an alpha, will they heed your advice on how to handle your heat, or will they act on their own? How often will you see your family?

A sadness settles over you and you feel your shoulders hunch and your spirit wilt. Next spring, your mother intends to take you, as well as your older brother and sister, into one of the main cities for an upcoming festival. It would be the best time of the year to try to find a prospective partner for you, especially with your scent both standing out and marking the others as “yours”. It could be the very last time you’re able to walk these familiar trails, so you savor the scenery while you can. You enjoy the welcoming scent of nature that you’re fond of, your home away from home, let your mind wander as your feet walk the familiar—

You stop suddenly.

The scent is so unbearably faint, you’re certain you would’ve missed it on a normal day. But with your heat fast approaching, your senses have steadily been going into overdrive. You’re not sure if you would’ve noticed it otherwise.

The first thing you smell is copper—no, blood you realize. It’s faint yet pungent. You can’t tell if someone’s been killed or just slightly injured, because the scent overpowering that one is foreign. It’s a strange mix of flavors; citrus, spice, a hint of something floral...and underneath that, another strong, heady scent. Refined and strong, one that collects on your tongue as you take in a breath of it.

It’s not a scent you recognize or are familiar with, but instinctively your body reacts. You start to salivate, your stomach churns and you feel that familiar wave of dull pain in your abdomen as that feeling of desire and want wells between your legs. You blink.

An alpha’s scent.

Yet at the same time, even as your body, on overdrive from your upcoming heat, almost pulses with need, you also feel...unsettled. While your lower abdomen cramps, your stomach churns again, except this time it reminds you of how one would feel when walking around alone at night. That instinctual feeling of unease and dread. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight.

Underneath that strong scent, carried along with it, is the unmistakable smell of blood again.

Your body sends you mixed signals, but you follow your mind’s insistence to get away. A harsh wind blows behind you, sending chills down your body as you turn heel and hurry back. It’s a little difficult to see in the moonlight with the wind forcing your eyes to narrow, but you’ve walked this path many times before. Even backwards, you’re able to find your way back.

You’re not far from your home when you feel another chill go up your spine as a spike of adrenaline shoots through your body. You look over your shoulder, seeing nothing in the wilderness behind you, and yet you can feel your hands tremble and your knees become weak before you continue on, now almost in a run.

That corrupted scent is getting stronger. Closer.

Your eyes widen. Your scent is already strong, made stronger by your impending heat. The breeze, the wind…

It carried your scent. They’ve smelled you.

You’re sure by the speed in which you make it home that’s the fastest you’ve ever run. Your father looks at you with wide eyes, both demanding to know what happened and comforting you by holding you close to him. The rest of your family nearly crowds you, no doubt drawn by the commotion and scent of stress wafting from you.

“Nothing happened,” you breathe out at last. “Not...yet anyway.”

“That’s why I told you to be careful! Things are dangerous at night, and you’ve never gone out this late before! You don’t know what could’ve—”

“You told me to run home if I felt unsafe,” you cut him off. “So I did. I’m sorry, papa.”

He hugs you close to him. You feel your mother embrace you from behind. Your siblings linger at your peripheral; your younger siblings look frightened, your older siblings look grim and angry.

“I...I thought I smelled blood.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A group of four young, overeager men have been slaughtered in the wilderness.

You hear the news through the grapevine; young, overconfident and determined to hunt the animal that’s assumed to be behind people going missing in the village. You hear conflicting stories after that; some rumored that the men were found in pieces. Others say that the men were pummelled into the dirt, and another person swears that they were eaten alive.

All conflicting stories, but you notice one consistency; all of the people who have gone missing are all fairly fit men, usually in groups, having gone into the wilderness at night.

You hear talk of “demons” circulating the village. Fear permeates the air, wafting off of even the humblest beta you pass by. Your parents watch you and your younger siblings closely; and obviously, you’re not allowed out after sunset. Not until this matter is resolved.

You haven’t told your parents, but you still taste that alluring, acrid scent in the back of your mouth. At night you lay away, staring at your ceiling and idly licking your lips. Citrus, spice, flowers, blood.

Sleep comes to you uneasy.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re three days away from your heat when you leave the house again.

Three days have passed since your last outing. It’s early in the evening and the sun is still high in the sky, so your father, while still wary, doesn’t stop you from going on another walk. You follow the path like you’ve done many times before, this time walking painfully, excruciatingly slowly.

Citrus, spice, flowers.

Blood.

You’re strangely at odds with yourself as you meander along the trail, idly touch each tree as you pass, your eyes searching but finding nothing in the wilderness around you. You let your nose lead you as you walk, trying to find where you were last time when you came across that confounding scent until your nose twitches and you smell that accursed scent. It’s faint, hardly there, but just barely clinging to the area around you enough for you to know they were here not long ago.

You follow the trail further into the woods, up the inclining hills until you reach the apex and find the small clearing you’ve stopped at many times before in the past. A common rest stop for people walking the trail or pilgrims looking to hike higher into the mountains. Finding your usual comfortable spot, you sit down against the same tree you’ve sat at for years.

You listen. Wait. No one else would dare come up this high, even during the day, after the most recent tragedy that struck the village. Most of the others are huddled in their homes or sticking within the village’s boundaries, until these secretive demon hunters show up to see what’s lurking in the woods.

But you’ve always been “nonstandard”.

An omega’s scent glands can be found in many parts of the body, you recall as you peel open your yukata. But the largest are located near the neck and the collarbone.

Although the air becomes crisp as the seasons start to change, the throes of summer are still felt in the village, and you’ve been sweating much more thanks to your upcoming heat. You feel a thin sheen of sweat along your skin as you stroke and massage along your collarbone, around your neck, and touch the tree you’re sitting against. Boldly, you spread your legs as well, enjoying the cool air that hits your core.

The gentle breeze of the wind is welcome, cooling down your body but also spreading your scent. You wonder idly if it’s wise to be doing something so...openly tempting. You leave your scent, enhanced with your heat, in this area for an unknown alpha to find. An alpha with the underlying scent of blood. One that you were ready to escape from when face-to-face with them.

You suppose it’s part of your biological instinct spurred on by your heat. The desire to be found by an alpha whose scent lingers in the back of your throat like wine, a scent that lingers and clings to the wilderness even long after they’re gone. You wonder what they’ll make of your scent. Perhaps you practically flinging yourself at them will repulse them. Or maybe they’ll find the strength of your scent offensive. Maybe they’ll enjoy it.

You stay like that, legs spread and breasts exposed to the air until well into sunset, before you finally get a bit too cold and stand up with a satisfying stretch. You touch the surrounding trees with your scented hand one last time before closing your yukata and hurrying home.

Your father is livid that you were gone for so long without telling him, and you feed him the lie that you’d accidentally fallen asleep under a tree before you settle in for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re two days away from your heat when you return the following morning, and you feel yourself become faint just a few minutes into your trail walk.

The scent is overwhelming. You actually have to stop when your lower belly cramps pitifully and heat pools between your legs again, faster than it did the first time. You walk with shaky legs to the clearing.

What greets you is not a sight you were expecting.

The tree you sat against has dents in it, like it was crushed but still miraculously standing. You notice patches of bark missing from the tree, but it almost looks like chunks of the tree trunk were just...ripped off.

There’s a deep divot in the ground, the force of which you can only imagine having been made with a large, dense rock. But how? From where? There’s no rock in the small crater, and the closer you get to it, you find that you can place your foot into the center of the crater.

The rest of the clearing is thoroughly trampled. Smaller bushes and trees have been uprooted somehow. One such tree has been completely knocked over, but the trunk looks...wrong. Instead of a clean cut, the trunk is jagged and the tree fell clumsily. A strong impact caused this, but your mind is completely blank as to how.

While surveying the damage, your eyes find a rockier part of the ground that, to your horror, looks like it was carved into. You’re left baffled as to who or what would have the strength for that until you take a closer look at the carving. Your brows shoot up.

‘茉莉’

You were fifteen when you first started to develop your scent. It’s difficult to discern one’s scent once you get used to it, but you wanted to know what your signature was. If you ever married, you imagined you and your spouse’s scent would mingle with one another.

You asked your older sister what your scent was like. Since she would be gone for most of that day, and back then your scent wasn’t as strong or clinging as it is now, so by the time she got back, surely she’d be able to discern you from the others.

After an admittedly awkward exchange with her sniffing your neck, but she hummed to herself when she finished. “It’s very fragrant. There’s a slight hint of rosemary, but more than anything you smell like jasmine.”

She grins at you then, wide and toothy. “Lucky you! Jasmine is often considered an aphrodisiac, did you know? You’ll be leading your partner around by the nose, I bet!”

You recognize the characters for ‘jasmine’ easily. You’re almost afraid of what left this here for you, of what you’ve been tempting over the last couple of days.

And despite that, you lick your lips. Citrus, spice, flowers. Blood.

You feel sweat building along your skin, yet at the same time your blood runs cold. Mixed signals, again. Against your better judgement, you loosen the silken hair tie you use as an accessory. You bundle it up in your hands, rub it along your wrists—more importantly, along the small scent glands there—and drop it on the carving.

This is a mistake. You want it.

‘Nonstandard’ indeed.

~~~~~~~~~~

You tempt fate this time when you return later than evening. Although your behavior has been anything but sensible, you give yourself a head start. You’re not too far away from your home as you stand out in the open of the empty trail, the sun steadily trailing down behind the mountains. You’ve scented this “alpha” at night before, and only ever picked up traces of them, however strong, during the day. If they would appear again, it would be once the sun starts to go down.

The sky melts into darker shades of orange that fades into pink, and then a deep purple. The sun has all but settled behind the horizon, but you still wait.

You only hope you can get away in time while playing this game of yours.

The wind blows. Your breath catches when you smell it. Citrus, spice, flowers. Blood.

It’s strong. Almost pungent. Instinctively you frown at the underlying feeling of agitation permeating the scent. Then, you smile as you turn and make for your home again. The wind blows against your face as you go.

You’re not sure what you’re hoping to get out of this dangerous game of cat and mouse. You’ve been courted all your life, to mixed results, so being pursued isn’t a new concept. Is it because you’re being pursued by an alpha? Is it your heat that’s influencing you? Or are you just that drawn to danger?

An audible gasp leaves you as the sounds of snapping twigs and rustling leaves reach your ears. Then the scent. They’re close. Very close. You think you start to hear quick, heavy footfalls before you urge yourself to push forward, faster, you’re almost there…

You hear a low growl from the wilderness behind you. You don’t stop to look before you finally cross the threshold where the last bit of sun is slowly waning away, leaving the darkened wilderness behind you.

You’re not the most athletic person around and your body is already not feeling its best thanks to your heat, so while you’re completely winded from your “race”, you still grin.

Your victory is cut short by the frantic calling of your father.

“There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you, did you go into the woods again? What happened, what were you running from?”

He’s flanked by your mother as she quickly gives you a thorough look-over, aghast at your disheveled appearance. She looks over your face, your ruffled yukata, your frazzled hair. “Are you alright? I thought I told you to stay close to the house!”

You blink at them slowly. Your face is hot when you look back towards the wilderness and lick your lips again. “I’m fine. I was going for a run.”

Both of your parents balk at your answer. Your father gives you an incredulous look. “A run? Since when do you go on runs? And where’s your hair tie? That was your favorite one!”

You shrug. Your mind is a little foggy. Citrus, spice, flowers. Blood.

“It seems I’ve misplaced it.”

You’re one day away from your heat.

~~~~~~~~~~

If asked a month ago, Akaza would have labeled this a middling village with middling people. Steadily expanding thanks to the village’s location on the path of a shrine and the increase in tourists—and even a few foreigners, much to his surprise—but overall lacking in anything especially remarkable.

The only real credit he could give is the tenacity, or perhaps a confidence borne of boredom, of its average people. This is the third group of young men that’s gone deep into the wilderness looking for him, after he defeated a demon slayer—another middling nobody not worth knowing the name of—that once called this little hamlet home. By the looks on their faces when he approached, they weren’t actually expecting to find anything, let alone a demon, in the wilderness.

It wasn’t much of a fight. They were average humans, perhaps high on their own gusto, and he didn’t bother eating any of them, instead leaving that another weakling demon that came looking for scraps.

He was about to leave, deeming this place no longer worthy of his time, when he smelled it.

There’s an unfamiliar scent, one that glued him to the ground with its unexpected intensity. Subtle hints of thyme, a fresh note of rosemary, but most overwhelmingly was the strong, cloying scent of jasmine. He breathed it in, letting out a shuddering breath as he felt something stir in his chest.

This wasn’t a normal scent.

He’s not sure when his pace started to pick up, but Akaza finds himself walking towards this cloying scent, one that almost seems to beckon him forward. It isn’t until a strong breeze carries this scent to him more clearly do his muscles lock up briefly. It’s almost as if the edges of his vision dims before he takes off in a run.

You’re probably the most alluring omega he’s smelled in...centuries. Uncharacteristically strong and inviting. The alpha in him, long since shaped and corrupted by the demonic blood in his veins, almost takes it as a challenge. He takes in another breath as he hurries after you, groaning low in his chest.

You’re about to go into a heat, aren’t you?

He knows. He can taste you on his tongue.

But he doesn’t catch you. Not this time.

By the time he makes it to the edge of the wilderness, your scent has scattered, soured by the tinge of distress and disappearing into the village. Akaza growls in frustration.

The village isn’t worth slaughtering to look for you, even if he knows no one there can defeat him. He’s certain it wouldn’t take long, but he turns away regardless, gritting his teeth.

He lost you this time. He doubts you’ll show yourself again any time soon since he’s spooked you with his scent, but he’ll never forget yours. The next time he catches wind of you, you’re his.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been two days and Akaza hasn’t caught a whiff of you since then. Two days and somehow your scent still lingers. It lingers while he rests during the days, fills his mind with cloying dreams of imaginary, jasmine-scented hands touching and caressing him. He tastes it as he takes in a deep breath of cool air before he heads out in the night to hunt.

It’s on his tongue when he finds a decently strong human to fight, even when his own acrid blood fills his mouth. When he feasts on the human he defeats—fairly easily, much to his disappointment—even as the coppery taste of blood coats his mouth and trails down his chin, he still tastes jasmine.

When he finds himself patrolling the trail again, he’s disappointed the first two nights when there’s nothing for him, except your steadily-waning scent that’s slowly being covered by other, more insignificant smells. For a moment Akaza suspects that he’s conjured the smell up himself, that the scent from before was just something he thought of as he thinks of the last time he’s taken a mate (so, so long ago).

At least, until the third night he patrols, and the wind brings him that cloying smell again.

He’s never run so fast before, following the scent as it grows, stronger, stronger, until it seems to collect in a clearing. And when he gets there, it’s...it’s…

“You little fucking tease.”

Your scent fills his nose, his lungs. He tastes it again in his mouth. His body is on fire and he swears it’s almost dizzying.

Akaza feels feral as he runs his nose around the clearing, taking in as much of you as he can. He approaches a large tree, where your scent is the strongest, and he nearly groans because he’s now picking up on lingering scents of your arousal as well.

His cock is achingly, pathetically hard.

He’s conflicted. Because he feels...happy, in a way. Happy that you’re real and he’s not going crazy. Happy that you seem to have marked this place up just for him. Happy at how close you are to your heat. It’s strange, because he’s never actually seen you before and yet he’s completely enamored.

But.

“You little fucking tease!”

He clenches the tree that has your scent the strongest beneath his hands, tearing two fistfuls out of it. He stomps a hole into the ground, he chucks rocks, he punches another tree, he goes into a frenzy because he’s so pent up, so tightly wound, so...so blueballed that he can’t do anything but vent his frustrations as best he can.

Because you escaped from him. Again.

He’s fuming. He’s livid. He’s grinning. He’s so impossibly overjoyed. It makes his head spin.

When the worst of it has passed, Akaza decides to leave a message, for himself—because he’s not crazy, you’re out there waiting to be claimed by him—and for you, so that you know that he won’t stop until he has you.

In a hard, stony part of the clearing, Akaza carves into the ground, ‘茉莉’.

Then he leaves to find a good fight. He needs one right now.

~~~~~~~~~~

He can’t believe his eyes.

Akaza’s first instinct was to return to the clearing. That’s where you were last time when you practically exposed yourself to him. He expected you to scent the area again. Maybe you saw his message? Maybe you pleasured yourself on it? That would be a treat.

What he finds instead somehow undermines yet exceeds his expectations.

A red, silken hair tie.

When he picks it up and brings it to his face, he lets out a shuddering breath. It smells like you, almost exceedingly so. You must’ve scented it. For him, he thinks. He feels blood rush to his groin again.

Akaza ties the offering around his forearm, using his teeth to help him tie a knot, when a gentle gust of wind hits his face. It causes his body to briefly lock up again.

Jasmine.

He bolts.

He’s much faster in catching up to you this time, and as he makes his way down the inclining hill his eyes catch sight of you and they widen. Granted, you’re running from him, but he realizes it’s the first time he’s actually laid eyes on you. You’re wearing a kimono due to the cooling weather; it’s pale pink with white flowers decorating it. Jasmine flowers, he realizes.

You fucking tease.

Akaza urges himself forward, not letting anything slow him down. He licks his lips—he tastes jasmine on them—and reaches a hand out as he prepares himself to jump and grab you and tear that gorgeous kimono off of you and push your knees back to your shoulders and fuck you until you can’t walk without his help.

He’s gaining on you quickly. He’s a demon, he’s an alpha; you’re an omega human about to go into heat (although judging by the smell of you, it may have already started). You don’t have a chance of outrunning him.

As soon as the sun reflects off of your back, Akaza growls a curse to himself. Because as he skids to a stop, before he enters the sunlight and perishes, he realizes you knew that. You planned for it.

He can only watch as you run to who he assumes are your parents. They look worried and angry, yet as you turn back to the wilderness, you’re out of breath, but calm. Happy. Smug, even.

You smile in his direction.

You slipped out of his grasp. Again.

Except this time, Akaza smiles back. Because he recognizes what this is.

For the first time, someone out of this middling village has given him a challenge. He licks his lips; they taste like jasmine.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the middle of the night, and you’ve started your heat.

At this hour, your parents and your siblings are sleeping soundly in their rooms. Besides, it’s not like they expect you to do anything but stay nestled in your room through your heat anyway. You’re quiet as you pull on a layered kimono, wearing nothing underneath, slip on your sandals and leave your home.

It’s more humid than you expected, or perhaps it’s your raised body temperature, but you feel warm as you walk along the nature trail in the wilderness. You smell the alpha’s scent, lingering from when he nearly caught you earlier, and you push aside your subconscious instinct to run as you walk with purpose.

The woods are quiet. Deathly quiet; no crickets chirp, no owls are making noise. The woods only go so quiet when there’s a predator nearby.

Citrus, spice, flowers. Blood.

You suppose there is.

He’s not being terribly subtle. You feel eyes on your back and the scent follows you like a shadow, but you also can’t hear him. You wonder if he’s going to jump out, or if he’s waiting for you to make the first move. You slow down your pace considerably to test him; nothing. You stop walking and look behind yourself.

You don’t see him.

You smile to yourself and continue your meandering pace. He’s more patient than you thought he’d be, especially considering you’ve run from him twice now. You hum aloud before saying, “I know you’re there.”

Nothing answers you, not that you expected him to. You continue your meandering walk.

“I can smell you. I know you can smell me.” You prove your point, you briefly fan the collar of your kimono. His scent gets richer as he smells you; arousal. You know it instinctively. “I’ve started my heat. Isn’t that what you were waiting for? Why haven’t you run out and captured me yet?”

No response.

“Am I making it too easy? I do want you, you know. I know you’re faster than me. Stronger than me. You could catch me in no time. I had to give myself a head start, to make it fair. But there’s no sun this time. I don’t know why you’re afraid of it, but I figured it’d be easier for you if we did this at night.”

You step over a familiar tree root. Your destination isn’t far ahead.

“I want you. But if I reach the clearing before you catch me, I won’t accept you as a mate.”

You take off. Not even a second later, you hear a hoot of laughter as he chases after you. Despite yourself, you grin.

He’s much closer to you this time around, and you’re hindered by your heat and general lack of athleticism, but you use the familiar terrain to your advantage. You do what you can to keep him at bay; you feint around trees, you go the riskier paths that once tripped you up, you duck under low-hanging branches. His footsteps are consistent behind you, steadily growing closer to you, but at this rate, you’ll reach the clearing before he reaches you.

You push yourself, even as your belly cramps and your lungs struggle for air. The clearing sits at the top of an incline. Your legs burn but you use your hands to help you scramble up there faster. As the trees become scarce and begin to part, you do one last feint around a sturdy tree as you crest the top, you’re almost there—

There’s a loud snap and then a crash from your left.

It’s him.

The moonlight obscures most of his face, but his eyes almost seem to glow as he bursts through the tree. Everything around you seems to move in slow motion, and you know from your fatigue and the speed the tree is falling, you’ll be crushed.

He’s faster, stronger than you give him credit for. In a flash you feel a strong, firm arm wrap around your waist. Your world turns upside down as you’re hoisted over his shoulder. And in a blink you think he tumbles. Your eyes close as you wait to hit the ground, only for your world to spin again as he somehow catches himself and lands on his feet, with you still safe in his arms.

You blink. He’s caught you.

He settles you down on your feet in front of him as he smiles at you, triumph and fondness in equal measure on his face, even as you instinctively recoil from him. His skin is pale, almost grey in the moonlight, his hair and eyelashes (pretty, full, and long) are a shocking shade of pink, and there are markings all over his face and his body. His eyes are yellow; they glow in the moonlight. You lean in to smell him.

Sweat. Citrus, spice, flowers. Blood.

He cups your face in both of his hands to study your face; vaguely, you notice his fingers are the same color as the markings on his skin. “Jasmine.”

You both lick your lips at the same time.

The tender moment is quickly overcome by passion and tension. You’re not sure who moves first—Akaza is caught off guard when you pull him in—but your lips meet in a heated messy kiss. He bites your lip, you suck in his tongue, both of your hands roaming each other’s bodies, aimless in where they go.

He undoes the tie for your kimono in record timing. A part of you is surprised, and slightly disappointed, that he doesn’t just rip it off of you. Instead, he makes sure it comes off of you in one piece, then spreads it neatly along the ground.

You don’t have time to question it. In a jarring change, he grabs you by your arms and just about slams you down on top of it. He’s on you again in an instant while you get your bearings, breathing in your scent while he licks and nibbles at your neck and your collarbone. He runs his tongue along your breast and greedily takes your nipple between his teeth, giving it an almost painful bite before he sucks on it, his strong fingers pinching and teasing the other one.

You run your fingers through his soft hair and arch your back, breaths leaving you in desperate pants. Your senses are overloaded, and it’s both too much and not enough for you. You writhe and grind your hips against the firm bulge in his pants.

He pulls away from your breast with a deep groan and licks his way down your belly. He’s good at taking hints, at least. He spreads your legs apart, taking his time to kiss and lick and bite up your calf, along the insides of your thighs, along your mons but ignoring where you need him the most. You buck your hips again.

“Please,” you beg sweetly.

He gives you a deadpan look and retaliates to your plea by slapping you on your thigh, hard. Your body tenses up, thighs clenching around him as you let out a pinched yelp.

You also feel yourself get wetter. It leaks from your cunt with ease, and you catch as one of his pupils—the one without the kanji in it—dilates. He smells it; he probably sees your cunt glistening. He gives you a long, dazed look.

“Akaza.”

You blink at him. “Huh?”

“My name is Akaza.”

“Akaza…” You lick your lips.

The corner of his mouth twitches upwards slightly before he buries his face in your cunt.

His tongue goes to work quickly on your clit. You keep your legs wide for him, mouth hanging open as one of your hands idly gropes your chest. He sucks on it, uses his thumbs to spread your lower lips open as he licks along your entrance, teasing before working back up to your clit and continuing in that pattern. Your hips are pinned to hold you in place. “A-Akaza!”

He growls against you. You watch as Akaza braces himself on his knees and pulls you flush against him, arms tightly holding onto your thighs.

You reach down and bury your fingers in his hair again, whimpering above him as he holds you in place and licks your cunt like he’s starving. Your mind is completely focused on his skillful tongue; not on the drool that’s leaking from the side of your mouth or the obscene noises coming from your mouth and your pussy.

“Don’t stop...don’t st- please don’t stop…”

You’re close. You’re losing your mind.

Akaza sucks your clit between his lips again, and it’s...almost. It’s almost enough, you want to cum so badly but you need another push. You whimper. “I’m close...I’m so close, please Akaza, please—”

There’s another sensual growl against your cunt as Akaza’s arms tighten around you again. You feel your legs lift as Akaza leans up, up, up—

Your legs are pulled over his shoulders and you’re pulled along the ground—thankful for your kimono—until you’re resting on your shoulders and your arms. Akaza’s eyes, bright and glowing, are locked onto your face as you’re almost completely held upside down as he starts to suck on your clit and lap at your entrance again. You wonder how pitiful you look as you keep his eye contact, mouth hanging open as you’re a panting mess, eagerly chasing your release on his tongue.

Akaza gives another hard slap to the same thigh he did before. The pain has you cumming almost on command.

You arch your back instinctively, head touching the ground as you moan loud and shamelessly. In your room, if you’re desperate enough to make yourself cum with your fingers, it was frustrating having to keep quiet. Out here you moan and writhe until your throat hurts, you swear and curse, your fingers dig into Akaza’s skin as he answers your babbling cries to keep going, more, more.

He’s groaning against you, eyes closed as he moves his head from side-to-side, smearing his face in your juices as he laps you up. When it becomes too much, you try to wriggle your way out of his iron grip. It doesn’t work, but he gets the message as he lets your legs down.

Akaza’s panting as much as you are, and when he sits back on his knees to observe you, you notice his eyes, just moments ago sharp and observing, are unfocused. He almost looks drunk as he licks your juices off of his lips. He doesn’t waste much more time, however, as he pulls his pants down enough to let his cock free.

You lick your lips. It’s similarly colored to his fingers, except it starts out pale at the base before slowly turning a smoky dark blue at its tip. It’s thick and veiny and long. You want every bit of it inside you as soon as possible.

He seems to think similarly as he immediately goes to mount you, then stops short.

You look up at him. “What’s wrong?”

Akaza looks at you, then around the surrounding clearing before he comes to a decision and pulls away from you and gets to his feet. He reaches a hand down and helps you up easily, then pulls your kimono around your shoulders. “Keep your back covered.”

“Wha—”

You’re not prepared for him to lift you up so suddenly as he brings you to the tree that you often sit against in the clearing.

The same tree that he nearly ripped apart when he had his small tantrum when he picked up your scent and it sent him into a small frenzy.

“I’ve wanted to take you against this tree the first time I smelled you,” he says, lifting you up against it. “I’m glad I left it standing.”

“Considering how easily you knocked down that tree to reach me, I’m glad you did, too.” At that he smirks.

“Hold onto me if you want. I won’t let you fall.”

“I know.”

Akaza pauses. Gently, strokes your cheek with his rough hand. The gesture makes your heart flutter.

When he has you up against the tree, you’re ready for him to slide into you, but he doesn’t. Instead, Akaza dips low for a moment, briefly throwing you off balance before you brace yourself on his shoulders. He hooks one arm under one of your knees, then the other, and when he stands back up you’re almost folded completely in half against the tree, supported only by his hands grabbing your ass. Instinctively you loop your arms around his shoulders.

“Ready?”

You pull him in close for another kiss, which he leans into with a gracious moan. You slide your tongue along his, moaning into his mouth when you taste yourself.

And bite him.

Akaza pulls back, but he doesn’t make a sound like you thought he would. You try not to let your disappointment show on your face when he runs a tongue along the bite, his face expressionless. He does it again, and you notice the small drop of blood that appears on his tongue.

He smiles at you again. “You’re the best.” And then he’s inside you in one smooth thrust.

Instinctively you cling to him, breath leaving you as Akaza sets a steady, punishing pace. His hips slap against yours with each hard thrust as you’re pinned to the tree, at his mercy while he fucks into your cunt. He licks a stripe along your neck again, making your toes curl.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” he growls in your ear. “When I smelled you that day. I dreamt of fucking this tight cunt of yours. I dreamt of chasing you down and holding you just like this while I fucked you into the ground.”

His voice is steadier than yours. You’re whining and moaning openly and freely as he fucks against the tree. He’s big. He fills you completely, stretches you around him just shy of it being painful. You feel your slick slipping out of you, possibly ruining his pants. The noises from your cunt are wet and obscene. You love it.

“This,” he emphasizes it with a hard thrust that barely kisses your cervix just about makes you scream, “is much better.”

“I’m cumming again,” you whimper. Your pussy clenches around him tighter. You pull him close and hold him against you. “Akaza-”

“I feel it,” he grins against your neck. Akaza leans against you until you’re completely pinned against the tree and he picks up his pace. “Fuck, I...can’t fucking wait to knot you. Can’t wait to pump you full of my cum. I can’t wait to see it, I-I...fuck, fuck I’m cumming-!”

After a few more thrusts, Akaza locks his arms around you and thrusts himself all the way in. You keen at the feeling of his cock twitching and swelling inside of you, keeping him bound to you while he shoots his cum inside of you. You’re not too far off, your legs locking up as you cling to him, feeling a mix of both his seed and your slick gushing out of you.

Akaza’s body shields you from a gust of chilly wind as he stays locked in place, still shallowly thrusting up into you.

Idly, when his scent gets whipped up by the wind, a hint of recognition flits through your fucked out mind.

Citrus, spice, and flowers. He smells like bergamot and blood.

~~~~~~~~~~

Akaza can’t be exposed to the sun. While he’s loath for you to leave his side, he becomes more comfortable in letting you visit your family again with his gift.

It’s been a week since you left your home in the middle of the night, just long enough for your heat to pass. You don’t feel any different except that the sun, even during autumn, feels a bit more unbearable to be around. He warned you something like that would happen once he marked you fully.

When your father answers the door, there are heavy bags under his eyes and his face looks like he’s aged a bit, but when he sees you, there’s a moment of shock before he locks his arms around you and pulls you inside. The commotion draws your mother, and then your siblings, and guilt grips your heart for leaving them without a word.

It’s a long affair when you explain to them that you found a mate. An alpha, like your mother wanted, a strong one that would keep you safe. You also told them that you could only visit seldomly, and that your alpha has given your family a dowry and a promise to keep you safe. It hurts when you have to tell them that they’ll likely never meet him.

The meeting is short, but sweet. You promise you’ll be able to visit them more often in the winter time, pack the rest of your clothes, and then leave.

The villagers around you nod, initially happy to see you again, only to stop short with wide, fearful eyes as they give you a wide berth. You hum to yourself. It could be a mix of things. It could be your slightly red irises. The hungry way you look at them.

Or it could be your new scent, now mingled with Akaza’s: jasmine and bergamot.

And blood.

[abbacchiosbelt]

Persuasion | Naoya Zen'in x F!Reader

For the Wheel of Misfortune collab ran by the lovely @cyancherub!

CW: Knife play, dubious consent, pregnancy, unhealthy relationships, PIV, degradation, and a general warning for dark content.

Word Count: 1.7k

18+ ONLY!

A deep sigh leaves your chest as you stare out into the dark lake in front of you, one of the only places you could find reprieve in your oppressive home. You rest on the ground cross-legged, the soft blades of grass rubbing against your ankles. The lake was where you went when you needed an escape. No servants frequented the area, and your husband or his family members certainly didn't dirty themselves in the earth like you had to get this close to the lake. Things were to be contained and put up to look nice, yet the lake and the forestry around it grew wild and free.

Footfall breaks the lull the lake has on you — it was easy to get lost in the low droning of the cicadas, the occasional splash of a fish, and the call of the birds that frequented the lake.

The sound of your husband's voice sends your heart leaping to your throat. "Are you trying to hide from your own husband?" Naoya swiftly pushes aside the branches blocking his way, lip curled in disgust. "You made me come all this way to find you." The disgust on his face twists into a smirk when he sees the look of comprehension dawning on your face — your space by the lake would never be yours again. "You stupid girl, I've known about this little spot of yours since the day you found it. Do you truly think I'd ever let you out of my sight?"

Naoya beelines towards your spot on the ground and grabs your arm, roughly tugging you up so that you're pressed against his body. You frown, instinctively going to cradle the bump protruding from your stomach. "What do you want, Naoya?" Naoya raises his eyebrow at your ornery tone before he glances down at your bump and rolls his eyes.

"Don't think you'd get away with that if you weren't carrying my heir," Naoya says. He raises his hand towards your chin and grabs it between his fingers, forcing your face upward. "I know your hormones are making you act like a spoiled brat." Before you can say a word Naoya releases you and steps back, as if he wants you to retaliate. You know better - you'd already tested him by coming out here and backtalking him, but you had never asked to be kept by Naoya.

"Leave me alone," You enunciate the last word, narrowing your eyes. Naoya laughs, hyena-like, stepping back into your space again.

"I came and found you for a reason, dear," The name drips from his mouth like venom, his eyes roving up and down your body. You take a step back but Naoya doesn't give you room to breathe. One of his hands darts out to drag your hand to the front of his kimono where you can feel his hardness under the cloth. "It's the least you could do for making me come all the way out here."

Discomfort roils in your stomach at the thought of Naoya touching you again. You'd already taken care of him this morning, but he was incorrigible. Since you'd become pregnant, Naoya had never missed the opportunity to indulge in your body. There were days when you didn't mind it - you'd be lying to yourself if you said the effects of your pregnancy hadn't made you more sensitive. The fleeting warmth that floods between your thighs at the thought of Naoya touching you makes your face grows warm. The shame and disgust you felt over letting him touch you was hard to push down when your body responded so well to him.

Your husband doesn't miss a beat, your silence telling him everything. "Ah, ah, ah, trying to deny me again?" He sneers, his hand darting into his kimono. What he holds in front of him has your blood running cold. A shiny knife is perched between his fingers, the salacious grin on his face widening. "Oh, don't think I'd hurt you right now," Naoya says. Like a flash, he's upon you with the knife in his hand cutting through the cloth of your kimono like butter. The gasp that comes from your throat just makes Naoya grin even harder.

Naoya knocks you to the ground and masterfully cuts away at your clothing until you're left bare - chest heaving as your husband looms over you with the knife. True to his word, Naoya had avoided cutting you. The only thing left damaged was the fabric, which would be irreparable.

"Please," you finally sputter. You'd been unable to think or speak while Naoya had the knife cutting into your clothing, sheer shock stealing your voice. "Naoya, I don't want this," You plead. Naoya cocks his head, his eyes slowly roaming down your body.

"No?" He says, reaching out to tweak one of your pert nipples. You cry out, a jolt of pleasure running through your body — your breasts had become extra sensitive over the past few months. Naoya slowly trails his hand over your body until his hand reaches the apex of your thighs where you're undeniably wet. "You should know to keep your mouth shut by now. Your body never lies to me."

Your response dies in your mouth as Naoya plunges two of his thick fingers inside your cunt, scissoring them apart while he watches you writhe beneath him. The sting from the intrusion fades away within a few seconds. It felt like a betrayal how easily your body responded to Naoya's touch. You bite your lip to hold back the sounds bubbling in your throat. Naoya uses his free hand to pry your mouth open cruelly, forcing you to drool on his fingers.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you can't hide things from me?" He widens the fingers in your mouth to a painful point, releasing them with a grin when you cry out in pain. "There we go. I want to hear you, want everyone around to know how easily you give into me."

Naoya slides his fingers from you and the sudden loss makes you clench around nothing, a low groan leaving your mouth. Noya can't take his kimono off fast enough, the little sound pushing him over the edge - he closes the distance between the two of you and presses his mouth against yours, sloppily kissing you. It was desperate, almost violent - like he knew you were the only one to see him this way, and he had to punish you for it. Naoya Zen'in was desperate for no one, except for you.

Naoya pulls away from you to adjust his newly freed cock, a line of spit connecting the two of you. "You," Naoya hisses, eyes lidded. "Only you do this to me. Get on your knees." With the way your body was changing, it was impossible to fuck in positions Naoya had previously frequented. You notice that Naoya shoves your shredded kimono to where it will rest under your knees. It was a small, strange gesture, but you wouldn't question him on it.

Naoya presses his cock against you nearly the second you finish moving, letting his member slide through the slick from your cunt. The head of his cock catches on your entrance and he slides in easily, burying himself to the hilt. "F-fuck," he grunts, letting his body lean over yours. Naoya's arm comes down to cradle your bump, another small mercy. Whether it was from how desperate he was or the simmering anger caused by his vulnerability, Naoya begins fucking you at a brutal pace, the noises from your bodies drowned by the lake.

It feels unsettling to stare out at the same lake that had lent you tranquility so many times when the very thing you were trying to get away from was buried inside of you, his body clinging on top of yours and his arm around your stomach like he was trying to consume as much of you as possible. The drag of his cock inside of you and Naoya's grunts drag you back to reality, your fingers digging into the earth beneath you. He'd scold you for getting so dirty later, but you'd take what you could right now, your own little form of rebellion.

By the sound of Naoya's grunting, you know he's close. "You were made for this," he says, letting the breadth of his hand splay out across your bump. "Carrying my children, being fucked like a whore," Naoya was even crueler when he was inside of you, his own depraved words pushing him towards his peak. And yet you can't separate yourself from the way your cunt clenches around him when he calls you a whore, Naoya huffing out a bark of laughter when he hears it. "Good girl, k-knowing her place."

The last few words are eeked out of Naoya's mouth before he hisses out your name and lets himself go, his hips shaking as he lets his cum pump into you. Naoya has enough mind to let his fingers drift to your clit, taking advantage of your heightened sensitivity and rubbing his thumb in just the right way to have you keening back into him.

Naoya slides out, his eyes burning holes into your back as he watches his load drip out of you. There's no tenderness left in him, now that he's used you for what he wanted. Still, he helps you get to your feet even though there's a look of disdain on his face.

"You're filthy, and you don't have anything to cover yourself up." Your mouth stays shut, knowing his irritation was caused by his own impulses. You'd take the blame like always. "You'll wait here until I can get you something suitable."

Without another word, your husband straightens out his kimono and turns away, walking back into the woods.

You pick up the tattered remains of your kimono and put them on as best as you can before you sit back down into your spot, crossing your legs once more. A dragonfly zips by in front of you, momentarily pausing in the air before it takes off on its journey again.

The momentary solitude you'd been granted again allows you to fall back into the lake's trance, even though the tattered remains of your kimono left the breeze brushing against your skin.

Perhaps Naoya had bestowed another tender mercy on you.

[phasmwrites-deactivated20240516]

drinking games || itadori yuuji

this is a part of the sewer’s valentine’s day collab! please be sure to check out all the amazing writers & artists on the list here! thank you for letting me be a part of it! 💗 

Pairing: Itadori Yuuji x Female!Reader 

Warnings: Smut (18+), Alcohol Intoxication

Word Count: 4.8k+

A/N: Here’s my first fic for the JJK fandom! I hope its turned out alright 😩💗 my pink item for the collab was pink vodka! I wound up having quite a bit of fun writing this, Yuuji’s just prime playful sex material and I love it 😍 If you’re uncomfortable with themes of sexual acts being initiated under the influence of alcohol then please don’t read. All characters are aged 18+.

[You: 22:42] Put some pants on I’m coming over [Yuuji: 22:43] U better bring food [You: 22:43] I got something better! [You: 22:50] OPEN THE DOOR YUUJI

Stumbling into the apartment, you clutch at the bag slung over your shoulder that contains the surprise you’ve brought along with you, “Are you deaf?”

Keep reading

[jthebeauty]

Dishes of Punishment.

Pairing: Step-dad! Naoya x Step-daughter! Reader

Genre: Smut, Modern Day AU

Rating: 18+, Explicit - Minors & Ageless Bios DNI!

DISCLAIMER: I do not defend Naoya’s actions in the manga or anything of that nature. I am simply a writer — that’s all.

Summary: Naoya hates your boldness. When you deliberately ignore his orders regarding the dishes, he takes matters into his own hands to make sure you never disregard his orders ever again.

WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT — NONCON STEPCEST, Reader is an Adult in College, Biting, Choking, Coercion, Cursing, Dacryphilia, Degradation, Dom/Sub Themes, Face Fucking, Fighting (Verbal & Physical), Gagging, Hair Pulling, Heavy Misogyny & Sexism, Humiliation, Implied Age Gap, Infidelity, Manhandling, Mentions of Breeding & Death, Restraints, Sadism, Size Difference, Slapping, Spanking, Spit, Unprotected Sex, Withdrawal/Pull Out Method.

Word count: 6.5k

Credit: Naoya’s Jujutsu hub profile picture is made by @ Shimeko_45133 on Twitter — I got permission to use it!

A/n: This fic is my entry for the Jujutsu Hub collab, coordinated by the amazing @suna-reversed! If you haven’t done so, please be sure to go through the masterlist & support the other writers who participated in this fun event! Thank you Vee for not only creating this collab, but also allowing me to participate in it!​ Thank you all for reading & take care! ♡

Keep reading

[rukunas-deactivated20250520]

—don’t think because you’re with me this is real! a feature in a cursed kinktober!

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

warnings: dubious consent, light bondage (reader is wearing blindfold), power dynamic, mean dom!gojo (he fucks you in his domain >.<), cunnilingus, creampie, orgasm denial, degradation, name-calling, slight misogyny, dacryphilia, gojo being cringe as shit

a/n: ur looking in the wrong place, for my loveeee

Tip in life: never trust Gojo Satoru.

He’s manipulative, sadistic, and plain evil. He lives behind a mask of smiles and sweets, that happy-go-lucky exterior is just a facade for his cruelty. And he always ends up getting what he wants.

So when he asks you for permission, pulling up his blindfold to show you his glittering, pleading blue eyes, you’re forced to say: “Okay.”

“Trust me, you’ll love it.”

Will you? Because as you stand in his domain, naked, chills running down your spine at your lack of senses, you’re tempted to disagree.

Gojo had tightly tied his blindfold over your eyes, pulling you into total darkness before bringing you into his domain. He told you,

“I want to be in total control with you.”

Whatever that fucking means.

But now you feel a bit worried as you stand here, strange whispers teasing your ears, a soft breeze making the hairs on your arm stand up. You feel like you’re floating— neither here nor there. You exist in every sense but no sense at all. It all feels like a dream— a nightmare— not real.

“S-Satoru?”

Your voice echoes, bubbles across the domain and flings itself back at you. Does your voice really sound like that?

“I’m right here.”

His voice rings in your left ear— wait no, your right. Or maybe it’s coming from above. You’re too busy trying to decide before you feel his hand on your bare shoulder, soft fingertips brushing your skin.

“Chillax, baby. You know I wouldn’t hurt you.”

There’s a sharp tug to your hair, his hand slipping over your neck but not squeezing. “Unless you want me too.”

“‘Toru.” You whine as you arch into his touch. As you go to move your hands, hoping to dip your fingers into his soft white hair, something holds them down. You try again, brows furrowing as you fight against this strange force.

“‘S no use. I control you here.” Gojo whispers, his hands moving down your sides, grabbing away at the fat of your hips, the plushness of your ass. “Now you’re gonna spread those pretty legs for me and cum on my tongue, got it?”

You try to curse him out— call him out for being the whore that he is— but oh. Oh. He’s kissing you up your thigh, teeth occasionally sinking in when he’s tempted to do so. He’s fascinated by the way his fingers make dimples in your skin, how you’re so pliable in his hands. Gojo makes his way to your core slowly, his warm puffs of breath teasing your clit.

“‘Toru, hurry.”

He laughs, loud and bolstering in his domain. It sends a wave of tingles through your body, flashes of warmth all leading to your tummy.

“Needy little thing.” You can feel him—he’s right there, hovering, grinning. Before you can beg him, his tongue flicks over your lower lips, dipping right into your hole.

“Ah, Satoru!”

His big hands are pulling the globes of your ass apart, his thumbs creeping down to spread the lips of your pussy as he drags his tongue back and forth. He hums as he eats, pointedly ignoring your sensitive spot and instead choosing to poke his tongue inside you, groaning as you squeeze around him. Every so often, his thumb grazes your clit, as if he’s about to let you cum but he decides against it, repositioning his hand over your waist. Your sweet arousal drips into his mouth like honey, him swallowing everything you have to offer him.

While Gojo’s busy enjoying himself, you feel yourself sniffle from the lack of stimulation. All you want to do is grab him by the hair and drag his nose over your throbbing clit, but your hands are stuck in air, forced to be still.

“Mmm, fuck. So cute like this… you cryin’!?” He glances up to see tears dripping beneath the blindfold, your lips slightly pouted. “Aww, did I make you upset? My little crybaby just wants my attention, doesn’t she? Want me to touch her princess clit?”

“Shut the fuck u-uh!”

With that, he delivers a sharp slap to your clit. You can’t even jerk in his hold— more tears spring in your eyes.

“Say ‘please’, sweetheart. I’ll make it alllll better.”

“You’re s-so mean to me.”

He slaps you again, this time making you cry out. “Ah!”

“Wanna see how mean I can get? C’mon, sweetheart, let’s see how brave you are.”

There’s a little ember of rebellion still resigning in you, but when Gojo blows right on your sensitive button, you break. “P-please, Satoru! Please… touch me.”

“Where? Here?” He thrusts two long fingers right inside you, curling them with a precision that only the strongest would know how to do.

“N-no! Want you to touch me… there.”

You’re lucky that he’s feeling merciful, dragging his thumb right to where you want it, rubbing gentle circles that make you moan. “See?” He mumbles, watching your face contort with his motions. “Look how nice I can be, when you’re being good.”

“C-cumming!” You cry out but it’s too late— his hand and mouth pull back, leaving you buzzing and understimulated.

“Not yet.” He’s pulling your leg up around his waist, dragging your hands around his neck. He finds joy in manipulating your stance to his exact desire. “Heh, you’re like my little fuck doll, aren’t ya? Go ahead and thank me for this.”

Gojo thrusts in, his length curving right to your G-spot and forcing you to sputter out— “Thank you!”

Gojo fucks like the manipulative, sadistic, and plain evil man he is. Brutal thrusts shake your body, but your presence in his domain keeps you still, forcing you to take everything he gives you. He keeps his mouth on yours, his tongue prodding against yours. He tastes like the sweetest of candies, his tongue like silk in your mouth. It’s almost like an apology, a sugary sorry while he batters your cunt shamelessly.

“Gonna cum inside.” He groans into your mouth, panting. “Gonna fill you up and you’re gonna have to take it.”

“W-wait, ‘Toru! What about—“

You gasp as he speeds up, his pelvic bone slamming right into your clit, giving you just enough to build back up—

“Ah, fuck!”

Gojo’s nimble fingers squeeze tightly into your love handles as he spurts right inside you, thick globs of cum dripping right down your thigh and he gently pulls out.

He maneuvers you so that the two of you are laying down, him on top of you, his lips latching onto your neck. You feel his fingers against your temple, the dragging down of the blindfold. Wincing at the light, you slowly adjust to the light of the domain— all colors of the rainbow illuminating behind Gojo, but you find yourself choosing to look at his steady blue eyes, sharp teal ringing around his blown out pupils.

“You didn’t let me…”

Gojo smirks, hand coming up to gently tap your cheek. “I’m in control here. You can come when I feel like it.”

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[swanbed-deactivated20230821]

Crush

If he doesn’t have you pinned underneath him soon- he thinks he just might die. He can make it through at least the class period, even with the erection he’s hiding under the tiny tray he’s expected to call a desk in the lecture hall… But it’s gonna be hard.

Really hard.

Word Count: 5k+ *pretty much nothing but smut!

Contents: explicit smut, chubby reader, virgin! reader, corruption, college burnout gojo, power play, pet names (bunny, baby, per usual lmao), fingering, oral, praise, coming inside (failed pullout method), dom/ sub dynamics (soft-ish dom gojo), sex fiend! gojo is back babies, public sex, 

Warnings: afab reader, female reader, explicitly chubby reader, virginity loss, (characters are 18+ -this is a college au!), discussion / use of weed, gojo is not at all as gentle as he should be, possibility of voyeurism but it doesn’t happen, u could make a case for dub-con so i’m tagging it just in case

Notes: k this was originally a request but i got so fucking far off track and it became. not what the request was at all… i saw the words “senpai” and “corruption” and “chubby reader” and just blacked out. also gojo sucks for most of this and doesn’t have readers best interests in mind- just a warning!

(anon i will do ur request for real at a later date, pinky promise!) 

*also i’m on a trip rn and have been editing this in the car w only 3 hours of sleep so it really may be a mess but!!!! wanted to celebrate the new chapter even tho gojo isn’t in it pffft

Keep reading

[fuwushiguro]

You're such a Rush

Day Thirteen: Squirting | 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Yuuji Itadori x f!reader x step bro!Satoru Gojo Genre: Smut Notes: Yuuji said NO HOMO THO 😤 Warnings: 18+, consensual encounter, stepcest, virginity loss mention, pussy slapping, fingering, squirting, handjob, slight sub!Yuuji i guess, face slap. Words: 2.8k

Yuuji’s fascination with discovering new things to try with you never seems to end. Who can blame him? You were just as insatiable, if not more so. You both reached adulthood with nothing to boast about in terms of sexual history. Yuuji didn’t even have his first kiss until he met you. And soon things quickly progressed. Friends to dating. Dating to a relationship. Kissing, touching, sex. It was nice being each other’s first. And it was nice that you hadn’t rushed into it. You weren’t just horny teenagers dying to get it over with. It was love. And while it wasn’t the best; what, with Yuuji’s premature ejaculation, it was still sweet. He was pussy drunk, being deprived of sex his entire life, he was overwhelmed with how perfect your wet walls felt around him. And after you’d fucked once, fucking again – and as much as you liked – would be no big deal. Yuuji was desperate for you. When he told you about what porn he’d be watching to get off, you did try to remind him it isn’t real, but he didn’t care. He wanted to try it. So you did try a lot of things he wanted. But today he has something on his mind. Something that makes him his harder than he’s ever felt even at the mere thought of it.

Yuuji Itadori wants to make you squirt.

“So, have you?” he asks. He’s staring intently while you scroll on your phone on the opposite side of the sofa. He’s fixated on you, patiently awaiting your response. You smirk, and shake your head.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. What is squirting? Isn’t that when you wet yourself?” you respond. He shakes his head and turns his body fully to face yours. He pulls your phone out of your hand so you’ll pay complete attention to him.

“No baby, it’s not like that.” he starts. Your eyes find his, and he smiles. Your sweet, innocent eyes are so full of love and adoration. He thinks you look adorable, with your interest piqued and willing to listen to what he has to say. “I’ll admit I’m not an expert or anythin’, but I think if I make you feel reaaaally good… you’ll squirt.” he tells you. He’s clearly doubting himself, he’s only done minor research and is making assumptions, but he figures you can learn together.

“So… Instead of nothing happening when I cum, I’ll cum… like you?” you wonder, tilting your head as you ponder the thought. Your boyfriend nods with a teeth-flashing smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah! Kinda, except it’s more like… water. It’s clear, not white.”

Your mouth pulls into a thin line. And it makes Yuuji’s face drop. This is where you draw the line? Really? After everything else you’ve done together. He cannot believe this is your limit. He’ll respect it, of course. But he’s disappointed. He’s infatuated with the idea of making you cum like that. Cum so hard and give him a real show, show him how good he makes you feel. He exhales, a defeated, irritated sigh. And you giggle. You giggle and you nod.

“Sounds fun, Yuuji!” you grin. “When shall we start?”

He wasted no time picking you up in his freakishly strong arms and taking you to your bedroom after you’d given him the green light. But unfortunately, things did not go to plan. He’d read online that all he needed to do was finger you and perform a come hither motion against your g-spot to make you squirt. It wasn’t working, and he was getting increasingly frustrated. So, you told him to try again.

So, he did, the very next day.

And then the next day…

And the next…

“What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can’t I do this for you?” he yelled as he pulled his fingers out of your sopping cunt. You rubbed on his shoulders, attempting to soothe his stress, be he shrugged you off and drooped his head into his hands.

“It feels good Yuuji. ‘m sorry, it’s my fault.” you whimpered. He groaned at you, even more annoyed with himself that he’d upset you. “You made me cum but I just, ‘m not good enough. Can’t do it.” you pouted.

“Hey, stop that,” he said, pulling you into his arms to cradle you. “That’s not true. I’m putting too much pressure on you, I’m sorry for making you feel so bad. It’s not your fault baby.” he expressed.

Your breathing slowed, you felt yourself drifting off in his arms. He’d pulled so many orgasms out of you today in his endeavour to make you cum like a pornstar. You could barely keep your eyes open anymore. You were thankful he wasn’t mad at you, at least. He stroked your hair gently as you began to doze off. But in truth, he was furious. He’s never wanted anything like he’s wanted this. And he feels totally and utterly… inadequate.

An hour has passed, and while you’d been sleeping, Yuuji positioned you into a cosier spot under the duvet in your bed. He did his best to keep quiet, listening to music and watching videos on his phone through his AirPods so he didn’t disturb you. He almost died of fright when your elder brother barged into your bedroom.

“Have you seen my—”

“Shhhh!” Yuuji hushes as he refers to your sleeping form. Gojo coos, what a sweet, sleeping baby you are. “Be quiet, she’s exhausted.” Yuuji informs him.

Gojo and Yuuji had been friends for quite some time, and although he wasn’t happy that he had decided to purusue his baby sister, he realised Yuuji is the best boyfriend you could have. A virgin, sweet, kind, loving. He wasn’t the type to fuck you and chuck you. And Gojo is certain he isn’t the type to cheat. So, because he’d known Yuuji for so long. He knew when he was feeling some type of way. He knew when he was pissed off.

“Aww, what’s the matter Yuuji?” Gojo asked, really dragging out the ‘a’ in matter to patronise his younger friend. Yuuji tutted and looked away, opting to observe your sleeping form instead. Admiring the way your shoulders rose and fell as you breathed softly. “C’mon now, Itadori. I’m intrigued.” Gojo followed up.

Yuuji heavily debated confessing what was bothering him. Is this okay to discuss with your brother? It’s weird, for all three of you. The thought of making Gojo squirm uncomfortably is an appealing thought, the idea of wiping that arrogant look off his face warmed Yuuji’s cheeks. But could he betray you? It would embarrass you too, surely, and Gojo would likely tease you about it any chance he got. But Yuuji finds himself asking if he cares. Maybe he isn’t the perfect boyfriend that Gojo thought he was.

“I’ve been trying to make her squirt, and she can’t do it.” Yuuji confesses. The admission knocks Gojo back, but it doesn’t bother him. It’s odd, Yuuji really thought it would make him feel awkward. But Gojo, in actuality, appears unfazed.

“Oh?” he poses the word like a question. Yuuji nods. Yuuji tells your brother about what he’s been doing, how he’s been trying to make you do it. The ivory-haired man stands with a smug smile on his face the entire time. Poor Yuuji, so clueless, so inexperienced. Gojo can’t let this go on. Every woman deserves the right to cum hard. To have an explosive, mind-shattering orgasm that changes their entire life. Even his little sister. “Would you like me to show you?” Gojo wondered.

He couldn’t be serious, Yuuji thought, could he? He could.

Before Yuuji could answer, to object, Gojo found himself crawling onto your mattress and hovering above you. Yuuji jumped up to close the door after him, not wanting anyone to walk in on this sick little indiscretion. Gojo lifted up the duvet, and was surprised to see you were wearing nothing but a baggy, unflattering t-shirt. Your brother’s hand came down harshly against your rear. You jumped awake, and you jumped again when you realised the assailant was your brother, not Yuuji.

“Wake up sleepyhead, heard you’re having some troubles.” he spoke with his trademark grin on his face. Your eyes found Yuuji’s, who turned away from you feeling ashamed of himself. This is going too far, he can’t let this go on. It’s sick, it’s wrong. Is he really this eager to see you squirt? “Be a good girl for nii-san, sit up for me so I can make you cum.” he commands.

“I— Yuuji? I…”

“Now, baby. Sit between my legs.” Gojo instructed, moving himself so he could make a comfortable space for you to settle between. You rest your back against his chest, he helps you spread your legs wider, and your boyfriend takes a seat at the bottom of the bed. “That’s it, a little wider for me sweetheart. Wanna make sure your boyfriend can see how I touch your pretty cunt.” he tells you. You force your legs open, as wide as they can go, and he hooks his feet around your ankles to keep them in place.

“Gojo…” you panic. Not sure if this is such a good idea, you weren’t really on board in the first place. You’ve never been one to deny your brother anything, but things have never gotten quite this far.

“Shush,” he instructs, his palm coming down to spank your wet clit. You shudder, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. He just laughs, you’re pitiful. But you’ll be so grateful to him when he makes your pussy gush. “You’re wrong about needing to finger her for her to be able to do this. Rubbing her cute little clit will work just fine.” Gojo begins, he demonstrates and you instantly mewl at the contact. You look down at where he’s touching you. It feels so wrong, so naughty. But it’s so heavenly, you can’t deny how perfect your brother’s long fingers feel on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “You normally tense up when he touches you baby, don’t you? That’s why it won’t work. You need to push, push f’me sweetheart.”

So, you do. The pressure switch from tensing your sex to pushing is euphoric. Your jaw hangs low as you begin to moan louder than intended, good job nobody else is home. Yuuji is captivated by the way you’re wriggling and writhing against your brother’s fingers. He’s so experienced. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Are you gonna do it? Is Gojo really close to making you squirt?

You’re moaning and groaning, you don’t like it. It feels weird. You don’t like it at all, not one bit.

“Gojo- Gojo please, stop! ‘m gonna, gonna pee! ‘m gonna—”

“Keep pushing, you’re not gonna piss I promise. Keep pushing against nii-san’s fingers.” he demands. You do, you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. But you’re almost screaming, the stress is rushing straight to your head. He’s wrong. He’s about to make you pee, you’re going to wet your bed at your grown age!

“Gonna- Gojo ‘m gonna- gonna!!! Hnng—!” you cry out. Yuuji jumps backwards as a jet of clear liquid spurts out in his direction. He’s amazed, you did it. He’s so fucking proud of you. He’s so fucking hard. You’re panting, trying to get your breath back. But all of Gojo’s fingers are splayed as he runs them all quickly over your pulsing bud.

“Again, again, again.” he commands. Yuuji quickly removed his t-shirt, wrapping his arms around your thighs. He brings his face as close to your cunt as possible without getting in Gojo’s way. His erection is flattened onto the bedding, he’s leaking like crazy on your sheets, he’s desperate for a taste. Within an instant you’re cumming for your brother once more. Yuuji slops and slurps on your cunt, eager to devour every drop of your orgasm. Your head falls back against Gojo’s shoulder. He strokes your hair off of your sweaty forehead and kisses you. “There you go baby, what a good girl you’ve been for me. Look how happy you’ve made Yuuji.” he coos and praises. He softly kneads your breasts from behind, pulling soft whimpering moans from you when he tugs lightly on your nipples.

“I-I love you. I love you, S-Satoru.” you tell him. “Felt so, g-good. I—”

“Let Yuuji try.” he instructed. He got up from behind you, allowing Yuuji to take his place.

He did so in a hurry, eager to see if your pussy would be as submissive for him as it had been for your brother. His leaking head digs into your back, and you’re proud of yourself. You’re proud that you’ve made him so happy and managed to turn him on so much.

“You’re… You’re so w-wet, Yuuji. So wet f’me.” you tell him. He smiles bashfully, that doesn’t matter now. All he cares about is you.

“Is he now?” Gojo questions. He drags the chair that Yuuji had been sitting on while he observed Gojo touching you. He pulls close so he can almost sit beside Yuuji as he continues to pleasure you. Your brother’s hand reaches between both of your bodies, grabbing a handful of Yuuji's cock.

“Oh… fuck. Gojo, what are you—?”

“Wow, she’s right. You’re so wet Yuuji. Shall I make you squirt, too?” he questions, already rubbing Yuuji’s cock sensually. Yuuji nods, dumbly. He can’t believe this is happening. This is so weird, beyond weird. But he can’t deny how welcome the contact is from your brother’s hand wrapped around his hard-on. “All wet for my pretty girl’s cunt, do you wish my hand was her pussy? Hm?” Gojo taunts.

“Y-Yes. I… Do… Wanna fuck her cute pussy.”

“Yeah, betcha do.” your brother continues. “Did you both think you were all big and special just because you fucked? Uselessly humping against each other with no real goal… Pathetic, both of you. You’re lucky you have such a good nii-san to help you.” Gojo expresses.

“Thank you nii-san, thank you f’making me cum…”

Gojo continues stroking your boyfriend. You can feel Yuuj rutting his body into his fist. It’s becoming harder for him to concentrate on finishing you off, but it still feels nice. You know you’re gonna squirt again, and maybe he’ll finish too. It’ll be romantic to cum together. Regardless of your brother being here.

“Do you wanna fill my baby sisters cunt with your cum, Yuuji? Wanna stuff her full?” Gojo queries. Yuuji nods idiotically again, he’s desperate now. He’s soaking wet and eager to blow his load.

“Y-Yeah, Gojo. I do. So fuckin’ bad. Can I? C-Can I cum?” Yuuji asks, a pathetic, needy moan intertwined in his speech. He’s hungry and he’s impatient. He wants to cum. And he wants to cum real bad.

“Heh. Fill her up Yuuji, cum in her tight little snatch. Pump her full f’me.” Gojo speaks softly, granting permission to your boyfriend to blow his load.

He manages to tip you into one final orgasm before he falls over the precipice of his own. It’s a little less than the first two times, but it’s enough to satisfy all three of you. Especially Yuuji. It gives Yuuji the final push he needs to shoot his seed all over your back. He coats Gojo’s hand too, and it makes him snicker.

“Mmm, nice and warm for me. How cute.” Gojo tells him. Yuuji has collapsed backwards onto the bed as he panted through the bliss of his high. Gojo sticks his hand in front of your face, requesting that you lick it clean for him. It’s the least you can do for him making you both cum like that.

“H-Hey, Gojo. Thanks again man, appreciate it.” Yuuji tells him. Gojo nods. “Uh, could we, um. Would you- Can we keep this to ourselves? I don’t want people to think I’m—”

“What, gay?” Gojo teases. Yuuji nods, and Gojo shakes his head. “I’m not gay, Itadori. I like cunt, and I love hers.” Gojo confesses as he ruffles your hair. Yuuji is confused, what was all that about if he isn’t gay? “It’s called having an open mind, you should try it. Felt good, right?”

“Right…”

“I’ll keep it to myself, though. If it makes you feel better.” Gojo relents, earning a sigh of relief from your boyfriend. Once your brother’s hand has been licked clean by your obedient, sweet tongue, you feel a wet hard slap collide with your cheek.

“Hey!” Yuuji yells.

“I’ll keep it to myself, as long as you two idiots come to me next time you need a sex ed lesson.”

© 2021 fuwushiguro

adding tags in a reblog 🖤 tag list form in navi if you're interested!

[angry-geese]

Love Bites

Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Warnings: not sfw/mdni. fluff and smut, fingering, biting/hickeys, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, couch sex. some pretty self-indulgent smut

Word count: 3k

jjk masterlist

There's a squeak as the faucet shuts off. You dry your hands on the front of your shirt. The tv drones on in the background. News. Weather, to be specific. A storm is coming. It calls for snow, which is odd for this time of year.

Though you don't hear him come in, you sense the feeling of eyes on your back. The door shuts with a soft click, announcing Toji's presence. He makes sure to take his shoes off at the door, and hangs up his coat.

"Hey kid," he says, opening his arms. As if by instinct you go into them. He smells faintly of cigarettes, and laundry soap. The soft beating of his heart is audible as you lean your head against his broad chest.

"Somethin' smells good," he says, peeking over your shoulder, into the pan, "what're you makin'?"

"Oba gyoza," you say, "and something with that chicken. I'm not sure what yet."

It's been in your freezer for a while. Might as well use it. You got it on sale saying you'd use it soon but never did. You have some leftover ginger from last night, plus some things you could throw together for a sauce. Though soup sounds good too, with the cold weather that's supposed to roll in. It makes you wonder if it’ll snow.

“You got anythin’ planned tonight?” He asks, giving your arm a squeeze.

“No,” you say, leaning back into his touch, “I have to be at work early, I was just planning on staying in.”

His arm curls around your waist as he leans past you to pop a dumpling into his mouth. It's still too hot from the pan, and burns his tongue. Not that he minds. As he reaches for a second, you swat his hand away.

Toji only chuckles, and reaches past you, using his free arm to keep your arms pinned to your side. As much as you wiggle and squirm, you can't quite struggle out of his grasp. He has too strong of a grip for you to break out of. Your protests fall on deaf ears as he pops another dumpling into his mouth.

“Hey! Save some for dinner!” You say, though you don't fight it too much.

His head rests on your shoulder as he pulls away, his grip around you loosening. Your arms come to rest on his much larger one, your fingers lacing with his.

It's still too early to eat. You’re not particularly hungry, and neither is Toji. You’ll wait a while before starting dinner. Besides, the chicken still has to thaw.

You find yourself in your living room, staring right at a basket of laundry, still sitting on the couch. You’ve been ignoring it all day, you don't see a reason to do it now. You move the basket aside, and find a comfortable corner, curling up.

Toji pulls you to sit in his lap; one arm wrapped around your waist, one hooked under your knees. You bury your face in his chest. He changes the channel to something else- a movie. One that you aren't paying much attention to. One of his hands moves to brush your hair away from your eyes, the other comes to rest on your thigh, rubbing soft circles into it.

Toji has never been able to keep his hands to himself. He’s not one for pda, so much as he can't keep his hands off of you. The rare times he finds himself in public, he has his hand on your lower back, or his body pressed against yours from behind. He’s never been shy with his affections. Toji is shameless in the way he adores your body; never hiding the way he leers when you wear one of his shirts, or wear a top that's a bit tight, or how you’re so used to living alone that you never remember to wear a towel when you step out of the shower.

You hardly notice the way his hand creeps up your thigh.

At first it's seemingly innocent. His fingers ghost along your thigh, making goosebumps raise along the path his touch leaves. He’s toying with the hem of your skirt- the pleated one he seemed to like in particular. You’re not sure why. Maybe it's the way the waistband dug into your hips, or how his hand looked disappearing under it.

Toji Fushiguro has never been able to keep his hands to himself.

You shift to get a bit more comfortable in his lap, your eyes drifting to the tv. A movie plays, though you don't recognize it. It's boring. Almost criminally so. Neither of you seem to be paying much attention to it. You’d find it easy to sleep if Toji would stop fidgeting.

His hand drifts higher. At first you think he’s fixing the hem of your skirt. It's not entirely impossible, but you should know better than to give him the benefit of the doubt. His motives are often less than innocent.

Your body stiffens as his thumb ghosts over your clit through the thin fabric of your panties.

Really, he’s not doing it on purpose. His touch is so soft it's hard to tell if he’s doing it on purpose, or unintentionally. He just needs to do something with his hands while he watches the movie. It's not his fault you’re right there.

His line of work requires him to be attentive. He knows every curve and dip of your body. Every sensitive spot. Just what to poke and prod to get you writhing. Toji picks up on things even you haven't noticed.

You pause. And he does it again, brushing his thumb over your clothed clit in soft, short strokes. The wet patch the forms on your panties doesn't go unnoticed by him. Soon he replaces his thumb with two fingers, stroking lazy circles around your throbbing core.

When your thighs squeeze his hand, he pulls away, a small, amused sounding huff leaves him. His hand comes to rest on your hip, giving a soft squeeze.

“Toji-” You whine. Your nails leave little crescent-shaped marks where they dig into his arm.

He likes how his name sounds in your mouth. Almost too much. From an annoyed complaint, to the way you scream his name when he’s rutting into you.

“What’s the matter, princess?” He coos. You loathe the nickname. “‘M just trying to watch the movie.”

You roll your eyes hard.

It's another moment before he moves again. His hand finds your thigh, groping at it appreciatively, nudging your legs further apart. His thumb works over your clit in achingly slow circles. It's not enough to get you anywhere fast. Every cell of your being wants you to grind down on his hand.

To spite him, your attention turns back to the screen.

He doesn't like it when you ignore him. Toji’s teeth find the junction of muscle where your neck meets your shoulder, sinking into it. Not particularly hard, though it does leave a faint bite mark. The feeling of his warm lips against your skin makes you shudder.

You shift in his lap, grinding against his growing erection. His arm around your waist tightens, holding you in place. You lift your hips enough so he can shove your panties down them. The sight of your bare, slick cunt is nearly enough to make his cock stand to attention. He doesn't bother hiding the way he adores your body. He’s not shy about his lingering gazes, or the way he can't keep his hands to himself.

He balls the fabric up, and stuffs it in his pocket. Much to your protest, as this isn't the first time he’s done this, and they aren't cheap. But if he had his way, you’d wear none at all. The man has no shame. You’re his. He’s not one to beat around the bush when it comes to something he wants. He’d bend you over in public and fuck you there if you’d let him.

A shock of electricity is sent up your spine the moment his fingers find your clit. They resume their slow circles, igniting a heat that burns low in your stomach. He chuckles at the soft gasps and moans that leave you. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, trying to stifle your moans.

You won't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

His lips make a soft pop! as they release your neck. “Don't hold back on me now, princess.” He says, laughing darkly.

“Asshole!” You scold.

He pulls his hand away, letting it rest on your warm thigh. “If ya wanted me to stop, then why didn't you say so?”

At this point he's trying to piss you off.

“Don't-” you try to stand, but are stopped by the arm that tightens around your waist.

“Don't what?”

And though, from this angle, you can't see his face, you’re certain of the grin that spreads across it.

One of his fingers presses against the soaked entrance of your cunt. Your legs widen a bit. Silent permission for him to continue. Though you’re wet enough, he gives you a minute to adjust to his size, before adding a second. His thumb finds your clit, working it slowly, while his fingers stroke your walls.

He coaxes your shirt over your head, tossing it aside with your basket of neglected laundry. Toji lets out a small, amused sounding huff at the sight of your lacy bra. It's quite nice, though he much prefers to see you with nothing on at all.

He tugs down the cups of your bra, exposing your breasts, kneading the plush flesh in his warm hands. Two calloused fingers work one of your nipples into a stiff peak. You make sure to unhook your bra yourself, so he can't rip it off. Bras aren't cheap. He’s torn through several. Shredded them like paper. His lips find your neck, sucking a dark mark into your pulse point, littering your neck with hickeys. The old ones have hardly begun to fade. What's one more?

“So pretty,” he coos, his breath warm against your neck. “My good girl.”

His words send a shock of heat right to your core.

He shifts so you can lay back, nudging your legs apart with his hands. His arms hook around your thighs, holding you in place, kneading at the soft flesh. His lips find the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, sucking dark marks into it. Your skirt pools around your hips. Your hands move to undo the zipper, and slide it down your hips, but he shoves your hands away and insists you keep it on.

His way of apologizing is stuffing his face between your legs, or his hands down your panties. He’s never been the best with words, but he’s good with his mouth. He tugs his shirt over his shoulders, tossing it aside with your abandoned laundry. You can hardly tear your eyes away from the muscles in his arms and shoulders.

Toji does nothing short of worship you with his tongue.

He latches onto the bundle of nerves, lavishing your clit in affections from his hot tongue. Your back arches off the couch as you grind against his mouth, weakly saying his name. Toji eats pussy like a man starved, and given his last meal. Aside from your own moans, are the sounds of a man very content with what he’s doing. There's few things he likes more than your thighs keeping his ears warm. Who is he to deny dessert before dinner?

Two of his fingers return to the tight hole of your cunt, curling, and working your g-spot. He groans as your slick walls clench around the digits. Tension pools low in your stomach, akin to a rubber band being stretched taught. His name leaves your lips in a broken moan as he works you closer to your release.

Your neighbors don't necessarily like when Toji comes around.

Your thighs clamp around his head as you cum, hard, and cry out his name. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, working you through your high. It's another moment before he pulls away. It's not until overstimulation registers in your lust-addled mind that you push his head away. His chin glints in the low light, wet with your slick.

“Fuck me,” you say under your breath, agitated.

“Why didn't you say so, sweetheart.”

He wastes no time in freeing his cock from his boxers, shoving them down his hips. The sight of it is almost enough to make you drool. His size is intimidating; only a little over average in length, but thick. The hairs at the base of his cock are dark, and unruly. The head is a ruddy color, and leaking precum against his toned thighs.

He doesn't bother using a condom. He never remembers to buy them anyway. You're on the pill anyway. Toji has an obsession with cumming inside, and a bad habit of never wearing protection, so you went back on them.

He gives his cock a few pumps as he guides himself into you. Combined with the precum that leaks from the head, and your own slick, there’s little resistance as he presses into you. He groans as he bottoms out, letting out a soft “good girl”. The feeling of your slick, velvety cunt is addicting. He silences your moan with a kiss, the strong, slick muscle of his tongue presses into your mouth. The taste of cigarettes hangs on his lips.

Despite all the prep, he gives you a moment to adjust to his size. Not that you need it. It's more so he can collect himself, and not fuck you relentelessly there. Wouldn't want to spoil the fun, would he?

His thrusts are slow at first. Almost uncharacteristically so. Toji isn't necessarily one to take his time. He can when he wants to, but overall, he prefers to get to the point. He’s not necessarily a selfish lover, but he tends to be straightforward with what he wants. That doesn't mean you aren't left satisfied—it's quite the opposite—but he tends to take what he wants first.

He can't tear his eyes away from the way your breasts move with each thrust. Toji leans down to coo words of praise into your ear, his lips latching onto your neck. His warm hands move to grope greedily at your breasts, thumbs brushing across the pebbled nubs of your nipples. Your back arches off the couch, your chest pressing against his. Your legs lock around his waist.

“Ah- fuck- there, Toji,”

His lips make a soft pop as they release your neck. “There, sweetheart?”

You weakly nod. The feeling of his warm lips brushing against your neck is enough to make you shudder. He’s so impossibly deep. Just when you think he can't thrust any deeper, he does so. Toji has always had a way of making you see stars.

His arms hook under your knees, pulling your legs up to rest on his shoulders. This draws a moan from you, one that you’re certain will disturb your neighbors, not that you mind. The sounds of skin slapping on skin fills the room, mixing with the lewd, wet noises of your cunt. It'd be enough to make you blush if you weren't currently having your organs rearranged.

Your neighbors don't really like it when Toji spends the night. Which is turning into more nights than not as of recent.

One of his hands moves to toy with your clit, rubbing erratic circles around the bundle of nerves. Combined with the way he pounds into your cunt, you’re inching closer and closer to your impending orgasm.

He doesn't bother pulling out. Instead, he gives you no warning he’s about to paint your walls white. He groans, his hips stutter, but he shows no sign of stopping. His cum leaks down your thighs in streams, though he’s not stopping his thrusts, continuing to fuck you full of his cum.

There's not one specific thing that sends you over the edge. The tension continues to grow in your stomach, almost past the point of snapping. Eyeliner streams down your face, which he wipes away with his thumb. The cheap kind, that runs and smears at the slightest provocation. His favorite. Toji likes to see you utterly ruined.

When you finally cum, you cum hard, your legs squeezing around his hips as he lets you ride out your orgasm on his cock. Your orgasm rolls over you like a wave, pulling you under and spitting you out wrong. Toji silences your moan with a kiss, almost uncharacteristically soft for him.

He pulls out slowly so as to not spill any of his cum. To no avail. Your couch is thoroughly ruined.

A smug, and rather proud look spreads across his face, before he realizes that’s probably the wrong reaction and says a weak “my bad.” You roll your eyes. It's not like this is the first time you’ve had to get stains out of this couch. It's old, and you don't particularly like it anyway.

“I’ll just cover it with a blanket,” you say, “if I can't manage to get the stain out.”

He pulls you to lay on his chest, your head resting in the crook of his neck. You're certain the bed will be more comfortable, but you’re too tired to protest. You nuzzle closer to his warm body. Not that the room is particularly cold, but there's something enticing about the warmth of another body. And he holds you there, basking in the syrupy sleepy afterglow.

Your eyes fall on the tv. The movie has ended, and cut to credits. Part of you considers getting up to change the channel, but you decide against it.

It would be easier to stay awake if he wasn't softly rocking your body with each breath he takes, or if his fingers weren't gently tracing the curve of your spine. The scarred corner of his mouth twitches into a grin as he watches your eyes struggle to stay open. You certainly don't want to cook now.

“Remind me to get more coffee when I head into town,” you say, your fingers idly tracing a scar on his chest, “I'm almost out.”

“How about dinner?” He asks.

You groan, and roll your eyes. “fine.”

[touyasdoll]

Day 4: Humiliation

Pairing: brat tamer!Megumi Fushiguro x f!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: non-consensual exhibitionism, voyeurism, humiliation, degradation, possessiveness, impact play, dacryphilia, teasing, sir kink, marking, pussy job, teensy bit of a praise kink, ahh I hope I didn't miss any, lemme know if I did

Notes: Starts off pretty strong, so everything is below the cut. Please mind the warnings. Posting this much later in the day than I wanted to, but here ya go! 💜

“You’re being such a good little bitch for me all of a sudden,” Megumi’s hand collides with your ass, leaving a bright red handprint in its wake. You hiss, unaccustomed to being struck so harshly without him already inside of you. “Where’s that big, bad attitude you had all day, baby?”

The joints of your elbows are shaking violently, threatening to give out from under you at any moment, but the threat of your sadistic lover drawing out this punishment offers you the incentive to remain upright in the position he’s placed you in.

“Have I finally tamed the brat in you?” His hands grip your hips tight, slender fingers sinking into your skin where bruises have already appeared, purple reminders in the shape of his fingertips. “Took long enough,” you can hear the condescending smirk in his voice as he strikes you again, harder this time.

“Ah!” A yelp is forced from your lips, but you button them shut, whimpering quietly as you take your bottom lip between your teeth.

He rubs the angry tip of his cock against your clit, teasing your aching hole with it while he leans back and watches. The fiendish grin on his face only grows the more you whine and clench for him. He loves to see you this desperate, this depraved.

He draws his hips back, pressing his middle finger to your slit, dragging the digit up and down between your folds, but never slipping it inside of you. It’s driving you crazy and he knows it. He adores it. He gets off on it.

“Sir, please,” you dare to beg, praying that he might take mercy on you. End your suffering and finally reward you by plunging his fat cock inside your greedy hole.

You were quivering for him in every way possible. Bottom lip shaking, elbows wobbling, pussy fluttering around nothing at all. He had to relent soon, otherwise you might just implode.

It had already been half an hour of torturous teasing, punctuated by a swift spank whenever you least expected it. He’d slip his cock between your thighs, letting your folds hug his girth to coat him in your juices, only to pull all sense of stimulation away from you to languidly stroke his own length while he slapped the heavy head of his cock against your ass, accompanied by a strike of his hand or a lash of the tongue.

The taunting was just as relentless as the teasing, but it only served to make you even more desperate. You couldn’t hide it from him, couldn’t pretend that you didn’t love it when he hunched over you, snarling in your ear about how he would take you when he was good and ready to. How he owned your pussy. How only he got to decide when and how you got fucked. How he promised to drink up your pretty, pathetic tears when he was through teaching his needy fucking brat a lesson by pounding your pussy until you begged him to stop.

You couldn’t hide it because every sinful sentence had you dripping. He could feel it when his cock would glide between your legs, catching on your clit now and then just to torment you a little further. He was always so close, rutting against you, nearly claiming you over and over again, relishing in the way you keened when you thought he was really gonna do it this time, when he lined up and almost pushed inside. Relishing even more when you wailed in disappointment, earning yourself another crack to your glowing backside.

“Oh, you’re still minding your manners? I’m so proud. What a good girl,” He coos behind your ear as he hunches over you, finally slipping his middle digit inside of you. “You’ve been behaving so well for me, despite everything I’ve put you through.”

You hang your head, fresh tears falling from your eyes at the first sign of meaningful stimulation. A moan tumbles from you, your walls instinctively clenching around his finger as he pumps it in and out. His hot breath tickles your neck before his lips place a soft kiss to your nape, his finger curling inside you, searching for that spongy spot you’re so anxious for him to find.

“Either you’ve truly learned your lesson,” he withdraws his finger from your core to reach around and grasp your jaw in the span of his hand, angling it towards the newly mounted camera in the corner of the bedroom. “Or have you figured out that we have an audience this time, darling?”

Your eyes blow wide at the revelation. You can feel his lips curl up in a devious smirk against the back of your head before he places another kiss behind your ear. You couldn’t tell if he was kidding. This could just be a ploy, something else to prod you with before he actually drops the punishment, but you’re assured that it’s more than that by the next words that he whispers in your ear.

“You remember Gojou-sensei, don’t you, babygirl? Why don’t you say hi?” He leans back, kneeling behind you as he places a hand to the small of your back, once again teasing your entrance as you reel from the new information. “He can hear you, you know. He’s heard everything.”

With that, he finally claims you, mercilessly making his presence known as you arch your back, crying out from the sting of the stretch and the delicious feeling of finally, finally being full. The mention of an audience is soon forgotten in your hunger for more. More of this, more of him.

“C’mon, baby,” Megumi’s gentle touch returns to your sides, his lips feathering kisses on your shoulder that don’t live up to the brutality that you had come to expect would be unleashed upon you, leaving you to chase it for yourself. “Don’t be shy, say hello.”

You slammed yourself back onto his length, whimpering as you tried and tried to gather the momentum that you were seeking. That harsh, animalistic rhythm that only he could set; that he regularly used to ruin you for anyone else.

“Y-yes, sir,” you sputter, floundering and giving up on your selfish campaign to fall into the slow, forgiving rhythm he was setting. “H-hi, Gojou-sensei,” you eek out, words barely rising above a whisper.

“Always knew you were a good student,” a smug voice carries through the speaker attached to the device, it undoubtedly belongs to your former teacher and his breathing sounds labored. “But I never realized you were such a good teacher. You’ve trained her well.”

Kinktober Masterlist

[lady-lauren]

Call Me Daddy

Pairing: Dilf!Katsuki x Reader

Warnings: daddy kink, breeding, age gap, authority/power dynamics, praise with a dash of degradation, rough sex, mention of bruising, claiming, belly bulge, size difference, creampie 

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Well. I don’t know what to say. I have been literally so god damn horny with thoughts of Dilf Bakugou today, so I said fuck it, let’s be bred. Special thanks to @whats-her-quirk​ for helping me brainstorm and thirst today, and to @mindninjax​ and @lookslikeleese​ for reading over it all and giving me the love and validation to know I did Katsuki right 💕

It’s a sweet surprise for Katsuki to find you sleeping on the couch when he returns home. An exhausting night of hero work has left him drained, sans for the adrenaline still snaking through his veins. The sight of you makes his heart hammer in the confines of his chest, his cock twitch against the spandex of his hero suit.

You’re not supposed to be here.

You should’ve been gone hours ago, should’ve taken your cute little sundresses in your overnight bag onto the train after his ex-wife came to collect the rowdy kids he pays you to watch over. Instead, you’ve rolled onto your stomach, throw pillow clutched underneath your face, hem of your dress hiked to where he can see the curve of your ass, the fat of your thighs.

The news is rolling on the flatscreen, accounts of his heroic deeds flashing across the pixels. Your dewy skin catches the colors, blues and yellows dancing across your shoulder blades and sinking between your spread legs.

Katsuki’s hands are itching to touch you. The spaces between his fingers feel empty, eager to touch soft skin and the cotton of your panties.

He debates waking you with a hand between your thighs.

You’ve tempted him long enough, spent nearly a year holding his babies in your arms and running around in your shirt and stupid little thongs in the morning to get them fed and dressed. You’re practically a live-in nanny, he might as well reward you with something special for all your overtime.

He removes his gauntlets and mask by the door before crouching down in front of your sleeping form. The way your lashes curl against your cheeks, how glossy and plump your lips are, how smooth your skin is—it all reminds him how fucking old he is. Grey peppers his temples, crows feet kiss his eyes, he’s got scars lining thick muscles.

How young you are just makes you more appetizing. He could teach you a few things, if you let him.

Keep reading

[yuki-no-akumu-deactivated202303]

EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES

pairing// i. yuuji x professor!reader

college AU, aged up characters (21+) - NSFW!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

summary // you’re having a particularly rough week and your student Yuuji’s childish and nonchalant behaviour towards his failing grades and missing assignments is simply the last straw, forcing you to snap and teach the brat a lesson. for some extra credit, of course. :)

word count // 5.1k

tags // power imbalance, mean dom!reader, sub!yuuji, dubcon (tagging non-con just in case), forced masturbation (m!receiving), blackmail, recorded masturbation (m!receiving), cockwarming a dildo (while writing an essay, m!receiving), little to no preparation penetration (m!receiving) sexual favours for extra credit, oral (f!receiving), dacryphilia, slight degradation, humiliation, praise, use of the title ‘professor’ (no daddy/mommy kink this time), hair pulling, spit as lube, cum play, unprotected sex, creampie

A/N: to my dearest @cyancherub - you are the reason I am balls deep in this Yuuji brainrot so you have to suffer with me now. also, you are the actual reason why I joined Tumblr and decided to give writing a go, so consider this my official “thank you” for always inspiring me and for being super duper cool and also thank you for last moment beta reading this? even though it was meant for you??? you’re truly the best <3

ALSO, THIS IS MY 100 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION FIC! It took a while to get to this tiny milestone, but I’m proud nonetheless! Very grateful to each and every person following me and interacting with me, it really means the world to someone who’s just starting out. Know that every little interaction is precious to me. <3 kissing you all!

now go enjoy some filth!

You’ve been having a very shit week so far - your car broke down on Monday and the guys at the repair shop told you it’s going to be at least three days before it’s fixed, and the price they charged for their services also didn’t help with your mood.

Furthermore, on Tuesday you found out your health insurance claim didn’t go through, adding yet another expense that you have to worry about. Your poor wallet can’t handle all the damage it’s taking.

You would think you could’ve gotten some peace and quiet when you got home on Wednesday, but no - you walked into your apartment only to find your new couch and all the pillows completely destroyed by your dog. Pillow filling and pieces of cloth scattered all across the living room as your dog was now laying in his bed, looking up at you innocently, as if he didn’t just destroy an extremely expensive couch.

Thursday was no breeze either, as you started your day by spilling a venti sized caramel macchiato all over your white dress shirt. Walking into your meeting with the dean of the school covered in coffee was embarrassing enough, but when he started chewing you out for the low grade point average in your class, you were just about ready to cry.

But you clenched your fists and bit your tongue, refusing to show weakness to anyone. It was just a bad week, it too would pass.

There is only one day of the week left, and after that, you can indulge yourself over the weekend and take time to relax and de-stress. Only Friday left… but boy, you’re not looking forward to this Friday. Why?

Because you have to teach a class with him - Itadori Yuuji, your most annoying student. Yuuji is by no means unintelligent or incapable, no - but he is, however, an asshole. A petulant child that firmly believes he can get away with anything simply because he is handsome and charming. He is the type of guy to enter the classroom 20 minutes late and simply smile and wink at you; no apology, no explanation. Just a cocky 24-karat smile. He talks loud, voices all of his opinions, and doesn’t really care about anyone or anything.

Now apparently he has decided to stop handing in his assignments, which in turn creates another problem for you. You could, of course, choose to ignore him and simply let him flunk, but that would mean two things: first, he would have to repeat the class, meaning you would have to see more of him, and second, it would give the dean one more reason to be angry with you and punish you for “bringing down the grade average of the entire institution”.

So this Friday you’re planning on pulling him aside after class and having a serious discussion with him about his grades and work ethic. You have been lenient enough with him over the past few months, choosing to ignore his attitude and simply focus your attention on the students who actually wanted to be there, but that has to come to an end. What you’re less willing to admit to yourself, is that you’re very anxious about the conversation you’ll have with him. What will you say? What if he mocks you? What if he keeps that irritating everything-is-a-joke attitude? But the scariest thought of all: What if I finally snap? Maybe I should teach that little brat a lesson.

So here you are, laying in your bed awake way past your bedtime, anxiously pondering over the events that might unfold tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day.

2:37 PM

The days are surely growing shorter and colder. Grey clouds are hanging heavy over your head, ready to rain down on you any moment now. There are 23 minutes left until class begins, so you grab a quick cup of coffee to go and you head on over to the classroom, mulling over what to say to Yuuji, practising different scenarios in your head. For some reason, the majority of these scenarios end up with Yuuji tied up and sobbing, spanked raw and begging for forgiveness. You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. Trying to shake away the urge to break the strawberry-haired man. He would look so cute crying though.

By the time class starts at 3:00 PM you’re halfway through your coffee, slightly starting to regret having more than two cups that day because it’s making you antsy. You take a final sip and greet your students, making a mental note of the fact that for once Yuuji is on time. The lesson goes smoothly, but you can’t help noticing that Yuuji never seems to be paying attention; never really even looking towards the big screen behind you where important slides containing assignment details were shown. Almost like he’s avoiding looking at you.

Finally, class is over, the room filling with the sounds of chairs being pulled and students chatting amongst each other. You call Yuuji over, secretly glad that none of the other students are paying attention and simply rolling out of the classroom one by one. Itadori slings his backpack over his shoulder and saunters over to your desk, hands in his pockets, a certain pep in his step.

“Whaddup, Y/N?” he grins, not a care in the world.

“It’s miss L/N to you. And I need to speak with you about your last assignment, the one you never handed in.” You don’t even look up from the pile of papers on your desk that you were busying yourself with in an attempt to remain composed.

“Oh yeaaah, there was an assignment, wasn’t there? Oops.” His stupid smile never falters. The irritation is bubbling in your chest and it tastes bitter in your mouth; the papers in your hands crinkle under the force of your fingers.

“Yup, there was, and it was worth 40% of your final grade. That means you are facing the possibility of failing this class, Mr. Itadori.” Your voice is cold and calculated, all traces of irritation erased - you’re all business. You are his teacher, you need to keep things professional, no room for emotions, especially emotions that will not improve the situation in any way, such as anger.

You finally look up at the strawberry-haired boy, only to find him staring, but not at you. His brown eyes were fixated on the collar of your tight shirt, the top two buttons undone, showing off your soft skin and collarbones. The shirt itself doesn’t reveal a lot, but it’s tight, the outline of your bra quite visible up close. He swallows and looks away quickly, but not fast enough for you to not notice his quite obvious interest.

“I’m sorry Mr. Itadori, are my breasts more interesting to you right now?” You arch an eyebrow, the irritation that was growing inside of you finally reaching your voice too. The audacity this brat has.

“I- no... I- m’sorry” he stutters. Yuuji Itadori, Mr. Charming and Almighty, was flustered. How interesting. The scenarios your mind conjured earlier are suddenly flooding your brain again and you can’t help but wonder… could you make him even more flustered?

“Listen here Yuuji, this is basically sexual harassment, you know. I’m trying to help you here, have a serious conversation about your situation, yet all you can do is stare at my tits. Now, what do you think I should do about this, hm?”

He opens his mouth in an attempt to say something, to argue, to come up with some witty comeback - yet no sound comes out. After a long, uncomfortable pause he finally mumbles a barely audible m’sorry, fixating his gaze on the floor. Some sick, twisted part of you finds this adorable. The corners of your lips curve upwards just barely.

“What exactly are you sorry for, Yuuji?” There is a teasing lilt to your voice, the use of his first name completely throwing him off guard. He looks at you with big eyes, once again unable to form a response.

“For, uh- … for always staring at you inappropriately.. a-and fantasizing.” He gulps loudly, mouth suddenly feeling all too dry. His little confession is a surprise to you, but you don’t let it show. You maintain a neutral face, studying him closely. You can see him get even more nervous under your gaze.

“Always?” you pause, eyebrow raised quizzically. “Fantasizing?” tilting your head slightly to the side, your eyes never leave his. Your presence only grows, asserting its dominance over his. The boy that usually towers over you and always has a carefree, happy-go-lucky attitude, suddenly looks very small to you. A blush is creeping up his neck and cheeks, proof that he really is feeling flustered.

“Huh.. so you fantasize about your teacher?” you smirk, several sinister ideas flooding your brain as you look at the boy in front of you shrink even more. “You can get in a lot of trouble for this… Mr. Itadori.” Gracefully you get out of your chair, moving to sit at the end of your desk, shortening the distance between you and your student. “If word got out, administration would have to remove you from my class - you would lose all credits you’ve obtained thus far in my class and you would have to pick a different course in order to obtain those credits again.” Your eyes travel up his body, slowly, undressing him in your mind. “That would be a lot of work, Mr. Itadori. Don’t you think?”

Not trusting his ability to speak right now, he simply nods. There is apprehension in his eyes, but also curiosity.

“Perhaps we can work this out? Resolve our… conflict, as to avoid getting administration involved.”

You hear the gears turning in his head, mulling over all the possibilities, mind racing and his heart pounding loudly in his chest. “Resolve… how?”

You can barely contain yourself at how small his voice is, how unsure. The boy that usually gleamed with confidence and strides down the corridors as if he owns them is suddenly unable to look you straight in the eye.

“Well, Mr. Itadori, I am a teacher after all. I think it would be best if I teach you a lesson about how it feels to be objectified. To be seen as nothing more than a pretty face, or hot body.” Your hand darts forward, now toying with the hem of his shirt. Yuuji is holding his breath as if the tiniest movement could drive you away. “Relax, Mr. Itadori, it’s just a lesson. You will benefit from it. Just do as I tell you and this little incident will be forgotten.” You pull him in by the collar of his t-shirt, his face now inches away from yours. A coy smile plays on your lips as you practically feast over the expression painted on his face at this moment. Surprise, desire and fear mixed all together, making his coffee-coloured eyes water slightly. But a breathy okay leaves his lips, eyes transfixed on yours as you push him backwards to sit in a chair.

“Clothes off. Don’t talk unless I ask you a question. Understand?”

Yuuji mutters a quick “yes,” fingers already hooking under his sweats, pulling them down as you lock the door to your classroom and make sure there is no way to peek inside the room. Lucky for you, most classes also end early on Friday, so the building is surely almost completely empty by now.

Yuuji’s heart rate picks up with each clank of your heels against the wooden parquet as you head on over back to the desk, once again sitting on its edge, arms crossed over your chest. Here he is, strawberry hair dishevelled, chest exposed and if you look closely enough, you can see the vibrations on his skin as his heart hammers wildly against his ribcage. All he has left on were his over-the-calf white Nike socks and his banana print boxers. The outline of his dick making your mouth water, already semi-hard even though nothing has really happened so far.

“Show me what you do when you fantasize about me. Tell me what you think about. I want to know how exactly you objectify me… how often.” Your voice is quiet but commanding, distant yet curious. It takes him a moment to gather the courage to go through with what you ask of him, but he finally palms himself over his boxers, not daring to look at you, but opening his mouth to speak.

“I- I often imagine what you look like under your clothes. What kind of l-lingerie you wear...” his voice falters at the end, the blush creeping up his face betraying him. But quite visibly, blood isn’t rushing only to his face. His eyes are shut and eyebrows pinched together, but he keeps on talking, just like you asked him to. “I think about you masturbating… Like I do almost every night. I-I think about eating you out and I imagine how you taste, what you look like.” He is gripping his now fully erect cock under the cloth of his boxers, and the whole view is just so delicious. His little confessions go straight to your clit, desire taking you over. You take your phone out and quickly open your camera, switching to video and turning it on.

“Go on, don’t hold back.”

He keeps his eyes shut, but his hand movements get braver. In an instant, his big calloused hand dives under his boxers to pull out his heavy cock, the elastic band of his underwear resting under his balls. He’s already leaking, a pearly bead of precum sliding down his shaft, right next to a big juicy vein. You zoom in with your camera, making sure to catch all the details.

“I imagine how tight you’d feel when you cream around my cock.” At these words he squeezes his length harder, a tiny whimper escaping his lips and it makes your heart twist and your insides burn. You just know the stretch of his cock will be delicious. You know he’d feel so good. The thought alone has you clenching around nothing and you slide a hand under your skirt, fingers pressing over your clit as a shudder travels your spine.

“Yeah? You wanna do all those things to me, Mr. Itadori? You want to see me naked, taste me, feel me? Tell me how much you want it.” You’re focusing the camera on his face now, capturing his face contorting in pleasure and need. Hand stroking his dick faster now, smearing the pre all across his length. He doesn’t really need to say how much he wants that as it becomes evident from the vigour in his strokes, but you want to hear him anyway. “Tell me, use your words, baby boy.” The nickname sets him off, all the moans he’d been staving off finally surfacing.

“S’much… it’s all I can think about. Every time I come to class my mind… w-wanders, mmgh.” His chest is heaving, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he fucks his fist wishing it was you, eyes still tightly shut. “Even now… I really am imagining that you’re jacking me off… it’s so fucking h-hot.”

It would be a lie to say that your hands weren’t itching to touch him, to make him writhe and squirm and beg. But that would have to wait. Right now, you just want to see him cum.

“Mmm, and how do these little daydreams of yours end, hm? Wanna show me?” It takes Yuuji only a few more strokes before his orgasm washes over him, abdomen muscles tightening, hot thick cum spurting over his chest and tummy, some even landing on his chin. His breathing is erratic and his heart feels like it's trying to break a hole through his ribcage. Finally, he cracks an eye open, gaze immediately landing on the phone in your hands.

Stopping the video and tossing the phone aside, you stride over to him and card your fingers through his hair, slightly pulling his head back to look him in the eyes. Amongst all the emotions he’s feeling, fear is the most prominent right now. His eyes are watering again, and you quiver at the sight.

“Call it an eye for an eye. One video for me to keep in exchange for all the times you’ve stared at me, imagining how good I would actually feel. If you behave, the video stays in my possession only. So be good f’me Yuuji, yea? Can you do that?”

He nods his head quickly, too quickly for his own liking, but he dares not to disobey. His submission pleases you so you ease your grip on his hair, deft fingers sliding down the side of his face and tracing his sharp jawline.

"You know Mr. Itadori, we’re not quite done here yet. I still need to discuss the possibility of you failing my class. I was thinking of assigning you some extra credit work to make up for the assignment you didn’t hand in… if you’d like to stay in my class-"

He cuts you off. “P-Please… I want to do the extra credit work. Please, I-I’ll do good, I’ll make up for my bad grades, ‘promise.” The puppy eyes he gives will simply be the death of you. You smile and rub soft circles with your thumb on his cheek.

Straightening up, you walk away from him heading towards your desk, fingers running through the wooden surface and landing on your briefcase. "I really, really dislike brats, you know. And I absolutely will not tolerate more mistakes like this from you, Mr. Itadori. No more attitude. No more slacking off."

There’s an edge to your voice, a coldness emanating from it, and it sends shivers down his spine. Unconsciously he swallows, tongue darting out to swipe at his bottom lip. Even for him, it’s hard to tell if he’s scared or aroused. Or maybe both. But what he is sure of is that you’re commanding all of his attention right now. He would do anything for your approval.

“To ensure you actually complete the assignment and don’t flunk out of my class, I will be monitoring your work. And you will do it right here, where I can see you.” The briefcase is now open, your hands rummaging in it, fingers wrapping around the object you’re looking for. “You’re going to use some tools to further… motivate you.” Your grin is wicked as you pull out a pink silicone dildo from your briefcase. Smiling at your student, your tongue presses itself flat against the dildo, licking a slow stripe from shaft to tip.

"You said you’ll be good, right? Promised you’ll do the extra credit… Still feeling up for the task?" You're now walking back to him and his eyes grow wider with fear. He's never done this before. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat as you sit down on his lap but to no avail. His mind is going completely blank, but his dick is acting on its own accord, becoming hard again pressed up against your ass.

“I want to do the extra credit, professor. Please?” The words are almost a whisper, the sound of his heart drowning out the sound. You chuckle and present the dildo to his lips in a silent command which he obeys, wrapping his lips around the tip of the dildo.

"Ah, so you can obey orders, well that's a relief. Because I have a tall order coming for you." You shove the dildo all the way down his throat, tears immediately pooling in his eyes, the only noise coming from him being muffled moans and gagging. "So listen up, brat - you're going to take this dildo like a big boy and cockwarm it for me as you write your assignment right here, right now. Where I can see you."

He can’t verbally give you an answer with the dildo shoved down his throat, so he nods, trying to hold off his gag-reflex, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

You don’t even think about it as you lean closer, tongue darting out to collect the stray tear, the salty taste of it making you hum in delight. You remove the dildo from his mouth, a clear string of saliva connecting his lips and the pink tip of the dildo, which you simply hand to him. It’s his extra credit work after all, he should do all the work himself if he wants a good grade.

This time you drag your chair from behind your desk and position it across Yuuji’s, giving you a perfect view of the show he’s about to put on for you. With shaky hands he positions the dildo on the chair, making sure the suction cup at the bottom is well attached. You could see him think through every move he makes, taking his laptop out, positioning everything so that he could attempt to write while he cockwarms the dildo.

The strawberry-colour haired man takes a final unsure look at you as if seeking confirmation, but even he can’t deny the excitement he feels deep down. The primal need to please you, show you he can be a good boy too, for you and you only. Lifting one leg over his desk, he gives you a perfect view of his round ass, puckered hole already clenching in anticipation. Two of his long fingers push past his lips, tongue sloppily covering them in saliva that he plans on using as lube. Those same fingers, now covered in a layer of spit, rub soft circles over his puckered hole, lightly teasing and prodding while he gets used to the sensation.

One finger finally pushes past his ring muscle, a wanton moan escaping his pretty lips. The sound is heavenly and you just want to hear more. To see more. Slightly parting your legs, you let your right hand travel up your thigh and toy with the hem of your lacy panties, enjoying Yuuji’s reaction. The little display you’re making for him is really fuelling him further. Not even a minute later, he’s sinking a second finger in his greedy hole, sounding more and more desperate, each moan and whimper a treasure for you.

Spitting on the dildo again, this time nasty and unabashed, mind hazy from lust, Yuuji finally positions himself over the pink dildo, the tip resting right over his hole. One more glance in your direction and he sinks down an inch, the tip pushing past his muscle, the stretch immediately filling his eyes with more tears. But he ignores the weird feeling, ignores the pain, and simply focuses on the pleasure. The more he sinks down on the dildo, the more you toy with your pussy, panties now pushed aside to give him a better view. Fingers sliding up and down the slit, collecting your essence and smearing it all over, gentle circles with your middle finger over your clit.

Halfway down the dildo, Yuuji opts to slide back up, and then down again, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth hanging open in pleasure. He was not expecting it to feel this good, the fullness making him slightly dizzy. One hand gently strokes over his sensitive cock, the feeling making him shiver.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” In response to his puzzled look you simply nod over to his laptop, reminding him that he is supposed to be writing an assignment. “Just write an essay on any topic that we’ve covered in class… or did you not retain anything from our classes because you were too busy being a pervert?” At these words, you slide two fingers inside you, knuckles deep, pumping them in and out slowly.

After staring dumbfoundedly for a few seconds, his shaky fingers pull the laptop closer and he begins to type. It’s adorable to watch him struggle to remain concentrated on the task at hand, with the dildo filling him up perfectly and with the sounds you’re making as you fuck yourself on your fingers… poor Yuuji can barely keep it together. Even though he’s sunk all the way down on the dildo and knows he’s supposed to stay still, he can’t help the little thrusts of his hips against the silicone cock.

Around 10 minutes has passed since Yuuji started his attempt at writing an essay, but it’s becoming more and more difficult for him to focus, not with the tip of the dildo pressing up against his prostate, making his thighs quiver and his breath hitch. He needs relief; he can’t write like this. And you know this all too well, your own desire taking over you completely, temporarily forgetting how you got in this situation in the first place. Screw it.

“P-please, professor.. I need..”

Before he can finish his sentence you’re already on his lap, lips pressed to his in a heated, sloppy kiss. You can’t hold it in anymore; you want to feel him. His lips feel soft against yours, but his tongue feels sinister as it dances against yours. Moving his laptop to the side, you sit on top of the desk and spread your legs for Yuuji, pussy glistening with your slick and on full display for the boy.

“An orgasm or two might put you in my good graces?” you suggest and spread your pussy lips with two fingers, watching as Yuuji practically drools over the sight. He doesn’t need to be asked twice, still impaled on the dildo he bends forward, tongue darting out to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. The taste of you drives him feral, lips latching onto your clit and sucking hard, mouth hard at work to coax more moans out of you. To taste more of you. To him, you’re truly intoxicating. As his tongue works feverishly against your folds, constant praise falls from your lips. That’s my good boy, fuck yes, right t-there.

“Move your hips, ride that cock baby boy.” You’re so close to your own release, it’s suffocating you. A few more flicks of his tongue over your sensitive bud and you’re coming undone under him, legs shaking violently as your mind floods with overwhelming pleasure and your pussy flutters. Yuuji’s greedy mouth is ready to swallow all your slick, hungrily lapping at your cunt, the obscene squelch of his tongue against your wetness filling the room.

Pushing him away just enough to sit back in his lap, your hands wrap around his length, pumping it languidly. His hips slow down but he doesn’t dare stop moving up and down the dildo, he doesn’t dare disobey you. Catching his lips in another kiss you guide his cock to your slit, rubbing it up and down, collecting all your arousal. Slowly you sink down on his cock, eyes rolling back at the feeling of his fat meaty cock stretching you out, your tight hole hugging him perfectly.

And Yuuji could cum from this alone, from finally feeling your warmth and wetness around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth. You feel so much better than he could ever imagine. With you hovering over his lap enough to give him space to bounce up and down, impaling himself on the silicone cock, and simultaneously drilling upwards into your welcoming heat. The feeling is so overwhelming; his movements are sloppy, and he’s constantly babbling incoherent words, hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. And as you look down at him all you can think about is how gorgeous he looks all fucked out.

Your hand snakes down your body, middle finger expertly rubbing tight circles over your clit, pussy immediately clamping down even harder on his dick. A second orgasm was approaching and Yuuji can feel that, the way your walls flutter around him, how much louder you’re getting. All he has to do is hold off his orgasm for a while more. He angles his hips and pistons up into your cavern, the tip of his leaky cock ramming against your cervix in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Right there is all you can repeat, teetering on the edge of your second orgasm, a few good strokes being the last push you need before you stumble over and drown in the pleasure once more. Yuuji follows right after, sinking all the way down on the dildo and pushing you down his length to completely bottom out inside you as he empties his balls, thick cum spurting right against your cervix. You can feel how full of cum you are, the thick sticky substance dribbling down your thigh.

After a few moments of silence, the two of you just staying close and trying to catch your breath, you finally speak.

“You know, you will actually have to write at least one essay for me for that extra credit, consider this just your… motivation to actually get it done. At the end of the day, I’d rather you not fail, Yuuji.”

You did it again, you used his first name. The softness to your voice makes his heart twist, and he knows he has to live up to the promise he made.

“And this stays between us.”

You didn’t really need to tell him that, he knows how badly things could turn out if anyone found out, but he gives you his word. He doesn’t dare say anything else out of fear that anything he says might ruin the magic. One wrong move could sully this moment forever, and this is a memory he’ll cherish for a long time. So he tucks his flaccid cock in his boxers and puts on his clothes, gathering his things and heading for the door. He pauses for a second and turns around for one last look.

“Miss L/N.. uhm, thank you for giving me an opportunity for that extra credit. And uh, I don’t mean the sex. The actual extra credit. I know I can be difficult, so I appreciate this a lot.”

You smile and wave him off, telling him there’s nothing to be thankful for. You remind him to hand in his essay before the following Friday and you say your goodbyes.

There’s a slight empty feeling budding inside you, missing the attention of the younger boy, but ultimately you realize you had completely forgotten about the stress of the week; and there was an undeniable pep in Yuuji’s step as he made his way home that night... Today was truly a good day, for both of you.

Taglist: @tokyosghoul @honeyspalette @toallmyhusbandos @sugarplummies

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[fairyfuyu]

all dolled up | ryuguji ken

summary: ken loves the way his cock makes you cry, the way your makeup gets all ruined for everyone to see

cw: NSFW 18+ timeskip draken, dom!draken, face fucking, tons of degradation, semi public sex ?, readers a brat :) daddy draken punishes us (yes daddy is used so if that triggers your fight or flight best not read this one), choking, impact play, use of pet names princess and slut (affectionate? lol) also theres no spoilers but if u havent seen the last ep of the anime go watch it bc thats kinda the vibe of the dinner table djxhwjd just read ok

wc: 2.7k

a/n: i am just in love w the idea of someone fucking my face until my makeup is streaming down my face, bonus points if we have to face anyone we know looking like a fucking mess who just got railed in the bathroom <3 also i wrote the majority of this last night tired as fuck so if it doesnt make sense dont even worry abt it

!!!!! MDNI !!!!!

Makeup just wasn’t your thing. You had tried every trend that swept across your social media, bought countless products that you only really used a couple times, but despite this, you just couldn’t get into it. Your winged eyeliner always turned out sad, you could never find the right shade of foundation, so eventually, you had just given up. The last time you really put on makeup was when you graduated from college, mostly because you wanted to look a little more presentable than you usually do since after all, those are the photos you’ll show your children one day, saying “damn, look how hot your mom was when she was younger.” But typically, you were fine taking on the world completely bare-faced.

You were also incredibly lucky to have found yourself a boyfriend that didn’t give a damn how much effort you put into your appearance; the last person you wanted to date was someone who would even think about mentioning how you should wear makeup to make yourself prettier for them. Thankfully, Draken was nothing like that. He loved your attitude of not giving a fuck, and quite frankly thought you were the hottest person alive, so why even need makeup in the first place?

Today, though, was different. Draken and the other higher-ups in Toman had set up a little get-together at this absurdly expensive restaurant as always, and this time Draken asked you to come along. At first, you declined because you weren’t that comfortable around the other guys, but as soon as he mentioned Hinata would also be going, you changed your mind. You never passed up a chance to see Hina; the two of you have gotten exceedingly close ever since you and Draken started dating a year or so ago, and you were so happy to have found another girl dating a Toman member to call a friend.

As you stared in the mirror getting ready for the occasion, you couldn’t help but feel the urge to open your drawer and pull out your makeup bag that rarely sees the light of day. You picked up the tube of mascara, turning it over in your hand a couple times while you thought it over. Maybe eyeshadow and eyeliner would be too much, but a little mascara and a hint of blush couldn’t hurt, right?

You applied the makeup to your eyelashes, careful not to get any on your eyelid. Meanwhile, you heard the shower shut off, immediately followed by your blonde boyfriend emerging. He wrapped the towel around his waist after drying off when he noticed what you were doing. “Are you...putting on makeup?” He asked, not believing what he was seeing.

Screwing the bottle shut, you looked at him in the mirror. “Just a little mascara and some blush, nothing too crazy.” You said, opening the pink compact and grabbing a fluffy brush.

As you swiped the powder over the tops of your cheeks, Draken came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss into your hair. “You know you don’t need that shit.”

“I know...I just thought since we’re going to a fancy place to eat, might as well look the part, right?” You quickly finished up, smoothing down your straightened hair you spent so long perfecting and turning around, giving him a brief kiss. “Come on, you gotta get dressed; we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave soon.”

The conversation had gotten to a point where you were bored out of your mind. You had your elbow propped up on the table, head rested in your hand while your other hand was placed innocently on Draken’s thigh. He was so caught up in the conversation he hadn’t even noticed you placed it there 15 minutes ago.

“All I’m saying is those guys seem shady as hell.” Your boyfriend spoke, taking a sip of his drink.

“I’m sure they could help us out. Besides, it’d be a lie if you said we didn’t do shady shit either, Ken.” Takemichi spoke up. “Inui seems nice enough.”

Draken just rolled his eyes. Mikey was the one to speak next. “Anyone from 10th gen Black Dragons needs to be looked into thoroughly before we even think about talking with them.”

You shared a bored expression with Hinata, who sat beside you, drumming her fingers on the tablecloth. It’s only been 20 minutes since you’ve gotten here - you haven’t even been served the appetizers and already you were wanting to leave. Of course, you wanted to be supportive of Draken, but then again, there’s a reason you aren’t in Toman.

Staring off mindlessly, you rubbed your thumb across the fabric of your boyfriend’s trousers; what would have been a tender display of affection was turned into something much more lewd in your mind. You couldn’t help your wandering hand graze along the plane of his thigh, closer to something far more interesting than the conversation at hand. Ever so gently, you brushed your fingers against his crotch, immediately feeling him stiffen.

If you didn’t have his attention before, you surely did now.

He shot you a look, one that said don’t even think about it, princess. But you just bat your long eyelashes at him, innocent as ever, continuing your teasing.

You were at the dinner table, with all the execs in Toman; what on earth were you thinking? You were careful not to make anything too obvious, hiding everything beneath the tablecloth hanging off the side of the table, and your movements were impossible to notice to anyone else besides you and Draken. This was so out of character for you; first you decide to wear makeup, and now you’re teasing your boyfriend in public, and purposefully disobeying his silent order to stop? It's as if this side of you had sat dormant all your life, and now for whatever reason, it's deciding to take over.

If it weren’t for the escalating voices traveling across the round table, you would’ve been able to hear Draken’s quiet grunthe released as he shifted in his seat, trying anything to get away from your teasing fingers.

But it wasn’t enough, you continued to play with him, even going so far as to cup your hand over his bulge, squeezing a little and sighing at how nicely he hardened beneath you.

Before you could make another move, he tilted his head down by your ear. “Bathroom, now. I’ll be right behind you.”

His voice was low and the command went straight to your pussy. You waited a moment before sliding out from your chair. You rested a hand on the back of your seat as everyone looked up at you. “I need to use the restroom.” You stated to no one in particular.

Mikey nodded, gesturing with the glass in his hand. “It’s back by the bar.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Hina asked sweetly.

You shook your head. “No, thanks though.”

Your feet carried you far to the back of the restaurant, finding yourself in the private family restroom and leaning against the door. Heart racing, you couldn’t help but smile at your actions tonight. You enjoyed playing this little game with Draken, and you knew he was going to punish you in some way, which you never denied.

However, you didn’t know exactly what kind of punishment was waiting for you.

Back at the table, Draken barely spoke another word as he waited for enough time to pass for no suspicion to arise. Finally, Hina was the one to inquire about your absence. “___’s been gone a while, maybe I should go check on her...” She thought aloud, about to get up out of her chair to make sure her friend was alright.

Draken stopped her, though. “No, I’ll go see how she’s doing. She's not been feeling 100% herself lately.” He spoke at a volume he thought was quiet enough for only Hina to hear, but he was mistaken.

“You finally knocked her up, eh Kennie?” Mikey teased across the table.

He shot his friend a threatening look. “Like I’d be the dumbass to knock someone up.”

You waited patiently in the bathroom, back resting against the door as you waited for Draken. After a few minutes, you finally heard a few light knocks on the door. “Princess?”

You barely had a chance to unlock the door and he was already inside with you, taking you by the shoulders and switching places with you, forcing you back against the door. “You think it’s funny to pull that shit in front of my friends, princess? You think just because you’re cute you can get away with that?” He asked, so close to you your noses were practically touching.

Strong fingers found your neck without missing a beat, quick to squeeze just tight enough to have you dizzy. “I asked you a question, princess.”

“Ken!” You gasped, holding onto his arm as if your life depended on it.

His grip tightened, and you whimpered in response. “What, you don’t want me to leave too many marks on you this time? Don’t wanna go back to the table looking like a little whore?”

“Daddy…” You croaked, digging your nails into his flesh.

He paused for a moment, letting go of his grip. “On your knees, now.” He demanded, nimble fingers working at undoing the belt around his waist.

Your hands reached up meekly to aid him, but he swatted them away. “Don’t touch, you don’t deserve to touch me. You’re just my little fucktoy, got it?”

“‘M sorry daddy,” you whined, placing your hands on your thighs, entirely exposed from your short skirt riding up.

He shoved his pants and briefs down, revealing his hard dick. Wrapping his long fingers around it, he brought it to your face, tapping his head on either cheek. He finally tapped it against your lips. “Open.”

You did as he told, opening just enough for him to slide his cock in and immediately wrapping your lips around his girth. Mindful to keep your teeth tucked away, you gagged a little when he forced his length into your mouth, tip immediately hitting the back of your throat.

Draken wasted no time in finding a harsh pace of fucking into your face, making sure to edge himself further and further down your throat with every thrust. He grabbed a handful of your hair, jerking your head back and forth along his shaft. You were completely under his control, useless to the incessant speed of his long cock pumping in and out of you.

“Relax for me, princess.” He pushed your head further down along his dick so your nose touched his pelvis. He was fully in your throat now, contracting around his painfully hard dick and causing tears to prick at your eyes. “Fuck, princess, you feel so good around me.”

The pressure was too much; you grabbed onto his hips and removed him from your mouth. Instantly, you felt a heavy hand against your face, whipping your head to the side.

“Is my dick too much for my little slut, huh?” He asked darkly, taking his cock covered in spit and running in across your lips again. It may have been sick, but you absolutely loved when he talked to you this way. Your panties were already hopelessly soaked before this, but as soon as his hand came in contact with your face, you could’ve came right then and there.

You were grateful for the second he gave your throat a rest, because as soon as your lips parted, he was inside you again. Back to the same relentless pace as before, though this time your throat was much more sensitive from the previous deep throating. The tears were welling up in your eyes again; you forced them shut when his grip on your hair tightened, sending streams of your tears down your face.

“Shit, princess, you look so pretty.” Your boyfriend moaned above you. You looked up at him, glassy eyed and makeup running down your face. He brought his free hand up to wipe your damp cheek. “Such pretty little tears.”

You tried bobbing your head along his dick, but as soon as you started, he placed both hands on the back of your head, forcing himself into your throat once again.

“That’s it, princess, take it, take my fucking cock like the slut you are.” He groaned, feeling his dick twitch in your throat. You swallowed around him, loving the whimper that pulled out of him. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”

You swallowed again but he quickly pulled out of your throat, fucking himself into your mouth a few more times. “Gonna cum all over that pretty face of yours-” He said, taking his cock out of your mouth entirely, harshly pumping himself over your face as you waited beneath him, tongue lolled out of your mouth and staring up at him with hungry eyes.

Before you knew it, his thick, hot spurts of cum were shooting out of his dick, covering your face, some landing in your mouth. You licked up whatever landed around your mouth, swallowing his seed down with the biggest smile on your face. You kitten licked at his sensitive tip, making sure to clean up any spit or cum that dribbled out of his slit.

Draken looked down at you. “What a fucking slut.” He chuckled, putting himself back in his pants.

“Yeah, but I’m your fucking slut, daddy.” You teased back at him, getting up from the cold tile floor and walking over to the sink. You were mortified when you saw yourself in the mirror. Covered in your boyfriends cum, black tears streaming all the way from your eyes down to your naked clavicle, your hair that you had spent so much time straightening now a rat’s nest. “Draken!” You screeched, now realizing the consequences of your actions.

“You asked for this, princess.” He said, reaching for some paper towels for you to clean up with.

He helped wipe away his cum, but the mascara smudged beneath your eyes was a whole other story. You desperately tried scrubbing the dark tears off your skin, but as soon as you tried cleaning up the mess around your eyes, you only seemed to make matters worse.

“Can’t you just wash it all off?” Your boyfriend suggested.

You shook your head. “It’s makeup, it doesn’t come off easily, you’re supposed to use makeup remover. Shit…” You said, looking back in the mirror and trying your best to clean up the smudges to look halfway presentable. Despite your efforts, though, it still was very evident what had happened in the bathroom.

Draken kissed your temple. “I still think you look hot.”

“Of course you do.” You said, rolling your eyes at him. You pulled your skirt back down over your ass and thighs, smoothed your hair down a little, and put on a brave face as you fled the restroom, your boyfriend following closely behind.

Sitting back down at the crowded table, you avoided any and all eye contact and instead found solace in the plethora of appetizers waiting for your return.

Silence had fallen over the table as Draken took his seat next to you, all the boys (and Hina) staring at your disheveled appearance. You could feel their eyes burning into you, but not a word was spoken.

Draken grabbed the bottle of wine in front of him and turned to you, smiling at how cute you looked having just been destroyed in the restroom. He glanced around the table filled with his friends. “More wine, anyone?”

tags: @erxnslut @souyawn @toallmyhusbandos

© 2021 honeyspalette. do no repost my copy, modify, or repost my work <3

[izukine-deactivated20220628]

— 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮

mentioned: multiple tr men

cw: explicit sexual content, use of ‘cunt’, unprotected sex, tiny mention of choking, praising, degradation, visual links (twt)

an: 1) this has probably already been done but it’s been sitting in my wips 2) the link for full nelson was deleted…so let’s pretend the one i used is that !

cowgirl ft. takemichi, chifuyu, kazutora, inui

→ he loves the view of your tits in this position—thinks you’re the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. no matter how many times you ride him, it never fails to leave him a whimpering, stuttering, fucked out mess. pleas of ‘baby, you feel so good’ and ‘just like that’ vacate from his trembling lips, a string of choked-out profanities following suit shortly after. he’s just so pussy drunk, so in love, that he can’t help the shivers that inch up his spine, or the way his cock twitches inside of you when you clamp down on him like that. you’d always do a good job when taking him, making sure to ease your way down, all the way to the hilt. he could never get enough—your cunt squeezing on him like a vice, the squelching noises, your impassioned moans—it was all so incredibly much, which is why when he’s close to cumming…he cums hard. “f-fuck, (name), gonna fuck this pretty pussy full of my c-cum.”

Keep reading

[izukine-deactivated20220628]

— 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬

pairing: ken ryuguji x f! reader

summary: during an evening out at dinner, reader grows bored and decides to stir up a little trouble. what she doesn’t know, is that her boyfriend has had enough of her games, taking it upon himself to teach her a lesson.

warnings: 18+, dub-con, mention of alcohol, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, overstim, dacryphilia, degradation (kinda), use of ‘cunny’, aftercare + a little fluff at the end that i didn’t mean to write lol

wc: 3.4k

It was to no surprise that you’d end up in this position by the end of the night—your back pressed up against the wall, leg slung over Draken’s hip. He was always so serious, and combined with your one too many glasses of wine…you were a dangerous match.

The whole night consisted of him scolding you for being a brat. You were such a nuisance, getting him all hot and bothered, running your foot over his crotch underneath the clothed dinner table. To everyone watching, the two of you looked like a doting couple—a normal couple; one that appeared to be celebrating an anniversary, or even out on a romantic date. Unbeknownst to the rest of the patrons, though, you were anything but an innocent couple. 

Keep reading

[cyancherub]

forever

itadori yuuji x fem! reader

word count // 5k

aged up characters (20+) - nsfw, minors do not interact

playlists // one (for the fluff) / two (for the sex lmao)

cw // friends to lovers, mutual pining, fantasizing, fingering, dry humping, orgasm denial/edging (?) (self imposed tho), clothed sex, ripping clothes, soft/emotional sex, lots of fluff and sap

SUMMARY

what happens when your best friend notices a hole in your leggings during an innocent game of cards?

A/N

this was supposed to be a drabble based on an ask @what-the-fucdge-rin​ sent me about how the jjk men would react to you wearing leggings with holes in them … but i got carried away and wrote this in a lovesick stupor bc i simply cannot get this man out of my head LMAO

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