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the first time aizawa ever smiled in class [aizawa x nurse!reader]
the training ground was wrecked. you could see it, dust swirling up in great puffs as class 1a huffed and panted on the ground. you'd just been passing by, on your way to help recovery girl in the infirmary, when you noticed aizawa standing with a bunch of spent kids. naturally, you wanted to witness for yourself the horrors of having the legendary eraser head as a homeroom teacher.
"so," you drawled out, "what did the evil teacher do now?"
you walked over to aizawa's side, ignoring the stiffening of his frame as the students whined about their gruelling mid-semester fitness test. you chuckled, glancing over to see if anyone was injured or needed your help.
you immediately noticed bakugo on the side, bickering with kaminari.
"bakugo," came aizawa's low, earthy voice. "you wasted time trying to prove your strength. you could have won faster."
the blonde haired boy scoffed. "dealing with idiots is my weakness."
"actually," you chimed in, "i think emotions are your weakness."
you'd meant it completely observationally, just a little critique from a passerby. but the whole class went rigid, and even aizawa's face had an imperceptible grimace to it.
bakugo's crimson eyes narrowed, and he let out a bellow.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"
your hands flew up in surrender. shit. apparently, not the right thing to say to a kid whose ego was so high it could be a pillar.
"sorry," you muttered, physically moving away from the boy who represented a living firecracker. "i just think you're a little sensitive, that's-"
"HOW DARE YOU CALL ME SENSITIVE, YOU OLD HAG-"
"that's enough."
you sighed a breath of relief. god forbid the day you became so scared of a literal teenager. but you were kind of impressed at how it only took two words from his teacher for the entire class to go silent.
dominating. hot.
you turned around and waved a hand at the class, signalling your farewell. but just before you could leave, you saw something that made your heart skip a beat.
at the corner of shota aizawa's mouth, was a tiny, almost invisible but definitely present, smirk. and he was looking right at you.
⤷ ゛tenya iida is a man of composure. he's serious and stoic. but when a cute waitress drops his coffee all over his pants? god, he can't stop thinking about her! and it's not just because she thinks his entire existence is meaningless. ˎˊ˗
the coffee house bell chimed softly.
his spectacles fogged up at the sudden drop in temperature, cold air condensing rapidly on his glasses.
the cozy corner cafe was overbearing with comfortable seats and cute tables. couples littered most of them, a few happy families shared the rest.
he walked over slowly. he sat down on the bench nearest to the window, staring outside. the birds were twittering. ants were crawling up a discarded log. a dog was barking. he heaved a sigh.
with a quirk like engine, you'd expect the famous hero ingenium to be a machine - always fast. streamlined. efficient. and he was, as far as it came to his job. he was a razor sharp hero, quick to his feet and even quicker to the rescue. but after the attacks subsided and the glamorous hero faded away to reveal the man underneath, he surprised people. for a man built for speed, tenya iida spent an impressive amount of time standing still.
he basked in lazy sunday evenings with a cup of tea warming his fingers, as he watched the sun disappear below the horizon. he loved taking his time preparing a meal, making sure every ingredient was measured to the exact gram, and above all; he lived for late nights snuggled in with a rulebook.
his gaze outside was interrupted by a sudden appearance of a waitress in front of him. in the back of his mind he registered that you were pretty, but iida was nothing if not a gentleman. he didn't notice things like that, and even if he did, he rarely did anything about it.
you cleared your throat politely, and asked him in a charming voice what he wanted. he simply stated, "coffee. black." before returning to the window.
a few minutes later, you came bustling up to him again, this time holding a teacup full of dark coffee. he looked up toward you and offered a small smile, holding out his hands to reach for the drink-
clang!
the teacup fell, spilling boiling hot liquid all over his pants. tenya let out an involuntary howl as you scrambled hysterical apologies, dabbing at the wet spot on his pants. as he winced in pain, he caught a peek of you through squinted eyes. you were bent over, hands frantically trying to limit the seepage while a few inches from his face were your pushed up tits-
iida immediately closed his eyes again.
that was a mess, he thought to himself as the cafe door creaked close behind him. he was just about to get on his way to team idaten headquarters when his sensitive ears picked up a mention of his name. he couldn't see the speaker, so he guessed they were in the alley between the coffee shop and its adjacent building. he really didn't mean to eavesdrop, it would be so impolite! but just as he was about to shake off the instinct, he heard that perky voice again. yours.
"god, i spilled hot coffee all over a customer today!" you wailed, probably to another waitress friend of yours. "fuck, he was really cute too. i wanted to get his number soo bad!"
he just smiled to himself, and walked away.
***
iida grunted as he deposited his soiled gloves onto the tray kept in front of him. the local sludge villain had been a pest, and it took him a good hour to get rid of it and lock it away in a biohazard container. there were dirt stains all over his shiny armoured costume, and it agitated him. he couldn't bear uncleanliness. he had just started rubbing at a particularly large stain when a timid knock broke him from his trance.
"come in," he said, not looking at the door. he heard it open, and from the corner of his eye noticed a tiny man come in. one of the new helping staff, presumably. "ingenium s-sir, we need you at conference room 1!", he squeaked, and rushed out the moment iida gave a curt nod.
iida stretched his neck, sighing at the cracking of his joints. he strode out of the main room up to the hallway. when he had taken charge of team idaten, he'd made sure to regularly invite social reformers and idealists as guests; mainly to improve gender and race diversity in his company. he wanted to hear the perspectives of those more educated than him, because creating a safe and opportunistic environment for heroes meant increasing the pool of potential and giving hope to young ones, just like his brother had done for him. the iida legacy was in his hands now, and he wanted to do it justice.
while walking up to the conference room, he remembered that this was a special meeting. instead of him reaching out to a humanitarian, somebody had reached out to him. she'd mentioned talking about something quirk related in an email, and iida agreed. she was probably here to talk about quirk safety and responsibility, and that would be a good reminder to hear for a hero.
iida reached the glass doors of the room, and lost his grip on the handle out of pure surprise. inside, standing in front of a large screen and addressing all his other hero colleagues and the management, was you.
he blinked, trying to gauge your form. was he hallucinating? you were definitely the waitress from the cafe before, you looked the exact same. and besides, he could recognise those tit- god, what was wrong with him? chiding himself, he opened the door and sat down at a nearby chair.
you had changed. your greasy waitressing uniform had been swapped for a well-fitted striped suit. your hair was tied in a formal bun, and you looked sharper. defined. but what was most different were those eyes. you no longer looked like a well-meaning, bubbly waitress. your eyes were steeled, with a mission in mind.
you smiled at him. iida smiled back, before dumbly realising he was still in his costume and you couldn't see his face. oh well. he was a bit impressed by how unembarrassed you were greeting him, considering you had spilled coffee all over his pants just a few hours ago.
you cleared your throat, and bowed to start. "good morning everyone, today i'm going to talk about quirks. and how they're ruining our society."
wait, what?
you continued, ignoring the affronted gasps and shifty looks. "civilisation in itself is a form of agreement, don't you think? an agreement to cooperate unanimously. the working class builds up its economy, crops, jobs; hell even its societal workings. at its very core, the working class depends on people viewing each other as people. people in the same group as them. the same finances, obligations, morals. people who are equal."
"this is where the problem of quirks arises. you see, quirks are inherently divisive. they are an unequal distribution of power, decided solely by a genetic lottery. they segregate the middle and proletariat classes, causing submerged conflict to rise in people subconsciously. when you leave this pot of emotion to brew, it will eventually boil over. which is why i'm here, warning you.
iida sat in silence as you continued, talking about how if villains had no quirks the problem of heroes would be solved. you then talked about how doctors at the Kameda Medical Centre had found ways to alter baby's quirks in the womb, essentially nullifying their powers even before birth.
"so i'm here to simply request you to think about what i said today. without quirks, there would be no villains. that also means there would be no heroes, but cures to problems often come with a bitter sacrifice. i just hope you all are mature enough to realise that you will have to take it. i urge you all to help support the medical centre's cause, and fund their research. i believe it will be a good step to eradicate quirks in the interests of humanity."
and with a bow, you left the room, leaving all his colleagues muttering with outrage. iida followed you, ignoring the increasing detested things coming out of the audience's mouth.
he caught you at the entrance.
"wait!" he called out, bringing your walking form to a hault. he stopped too, and waited for you to turn around. you didn't.
"you have some nerve to come into a hero agency and basically ask them to help stop making heroes," he said, playfully enough.
your head turned to the side. "i'm sorry for the rudeness, ingenium, but i think heroes are quite rational. if anybody should be conviced first, i believed it should be you all."
"wow, you seemed so different in the morning."
"what?"
"you know, when-" iida stopped. he suddenly realised something. you didn't know who he was under the suit.
it made sense. he rarely ever saved the day without his suit, so people only knew him as ingenium. he didn't go out of his way to flaunt his personal life, but the people who were into pro-heroes always knew the man behind ingenium was tenya iida, the man who got coffee spilled on him in cafes.
but you weren't into pro-heroes. actually, the opposite. so of course you didn't know.
he simply nodded and wished you goodbye, leaving a slightly confused you at the gate.
The way having Dark Shadow as another hangout buddy is one of the best perks of dating Tokoyami so I’d love to see you do one where the reader, him, and Dark Shadow’s just having a cute moment together on private despite the school finding your dynamic to be unique to say the least
close enough welcome back Eddie Brock and Venom x reader
Tenant Rights
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
summary: tokoyami x f!reader and their shadowy intruder that likes to barge in whenever they're most comfortable
warning/s: none, fluff!
w/c: 2.1k~
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
The latest running joke in Class 1-A was relentless.
“Tokoyami’s third wheel is literally his own quirk,” Kaminari had announced at breakfast yesterday, earning laughs from half the table.
Mina was even worse. “Be honest — are you dating Tokoyami or are you dating Dark Shadow? Because that shadow is more affectionate than bird boy ever is in public!”
You’d just rolled your eyes and stolen a piece of toast from Tokoyami’s plate while he muttered something about “fools who misunderstand the beauty of darkness.” But truthfullyyyy? The teasing didn’t bother you. Because while the class thought it was hilarious, you knew the real dynamic.
Dark Shadow wasn’t your boyfriend. He was the chaotic, uninvited little brother who loved crashing your dates and roasting both of you.
After a long day of joint training, you and Tokoyami had finally retreated to his dorm room for some much-needed peace. The lights were low, just the soft glow of the black-and-purple fairy lights you’d convinced him to let you string up last month. You were curled up against his chest on the bed, legs tangled with his, while he read aloud from a book of dark poetry in that low, dramatic voice you loved.
“‘In the velvet embrace of midnight—’”
Dark Shadow burst out from Tokoyami’s body in a swirl of darkness, immediately draping himself across the both of you like an oversized, nosy cat.
“Well, well, well,” the shadow drawled, glowing white eyes narrowed in amusement. “Look at you two lovebirds. Disgusting. Absolutely revolting. I can’t believe I had to sit through training watching you make heart eyes at each other the whole time.”
Tokoyami sighed deeply, not even looking up from his book. “Must you intrude every single time?”
“Yes,” Dark Shadow said without hesitation. He wrapped a shadowy tendril around your wrist and tugged playfully. “She gives way better cuddles than you do, bird brain. Move over.”
You laughed, reaching up to scratch under his chin-like area. “Hi, Shadow. Come to ruin our romantic moment again?”
“Obviously.” He practically purred at the scratches before turning his attention back to Tokoyami. “You were reading her poetry again? Bro. She’s already dating you. You don’t have to try this hard.”
Tokoyami finally closed the book, giving his quirk a flat look. “Your presence is an affront to the gentle intimacy of this evening.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dark Shadow flopped more dramatically across your lap, nearly pushing Tokoyami’s arm off your shoulders. “You two are SOOOOOOOO boring when I’m not here. Just kiss her already so I can make fun of how stiff you are about it!!”
Your cheeks warmed, but you couldn’t stop smiling. You tilted your head up toward Tokoyami. “He’s not wrong. You are kind of stiff when you kiss me goodnight.”
Tokoyami’s feathers ruffled slightly-- his version of blushing. “I am not stiff. I am...deliberate.”
Dark Shadow cackled. “Deliberate? Last time you kissed her you looked like you were calculating the exact angle for maximum romantic efficiency. It was painful to watch.”
You giggled and leaned up, pressing a quick, soft kiss to Tokoyami’s lips. He melted almost immediately, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. When you pulled back, Dark Shadow made loud gagging noises.
“Gross!! Get a room.”
“We are in a room,” you shot back, poking his shadowy cheek. “You’re the one who barged in uninvited.”
“Technically I live here,” Dark Shadow said smugly. “I’m part of him. I have tenant rights.”
Tokoyami pinched the bridge of his nose. “You are a manifestation of my quirk, not a tenant.”
“Details.”
Despite the constant teasing, Dark Shadow stayed right where he was — curled comfortably across your lap while you continued running your fingers through his cool, misty form. He was surprisingly good at being a weighted blanket when he wanted to be.
After a few minutes of peaceful quiet (aside from Dark Shadow humming some obnoxiously upbeat song he’d heard in the common room), you spoke up.
“You know the whole class thinks our relationship is weird because of you, right?”
Dark Shadow lifted his head, looking way too pleased. “Good. Let them think I’m the one pulling all the strings. I’ve got a reputation to uphold as the superior entity in this trio.”
Tokoyami huffed. “You are insufferable.”
“And yet you love me,” Dark Shadow said sweetly, batting his glowing eyes. Then he turned to you. “And you definitely like me more than him. Be honest.”
You grinned. “I plead the fifth.”
“Traitor,” Tokoyami muttered, but there was clear fondness in his voice. His arm tightened around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
Dark Shadow made another fake-vomiting sound but snuggled closer anyway, one shadowy tendril gently wrapping around your ankle like a bracelet. “You two are gross. But… this is nice. Don’t tell anyone I said that or I’ll deny it and call you both liars.”
You laughed softly, letting yourself relax fully between them. Tokoyami’s steady warmth on one side, Dark Shadow’s cool, soothing presence on the other. The rest of the class could keep making their jokes and wild theories. They didn’t get to see this side — the way Dark Shadow would dramatically complain but still seek out your pets, or how Tokoyami would pretend to be annoyed but never actually banished his quirk when you were around.
After a while, Dark Shadow’s teasing slowed. He started humming again, a softer, slower melody this time. You recognized it as the song you’d been playing on repeat lately.
“You’ve been stealing my playlists again,” you murmured.
“He remembers everything that makes you smile,” Tokoyami said quietly, almost like he was admitting something embarrassing. “It is… rather persistent.”
Dark Shadow didn’t deny it. Instead, he nestled his head against your stomach. “Someone has to keep track of these things. Bird boy is too busy being mysterious.”
"You're also a bird boy." you smiled, eyes growing heavy. The long day of training was finally catching up to you. Tokoyami noticed immediately and adjusted his hold, pulling the blanket over the three of you.
“Rest,” he whispered against your hair. “We will keep watch over the darkness.”
Dark Shadow made a soft, sleepy sound of agreement. “Yeah. We’ve got you, human.”
Even as you drifted off, you could hear them quietly bickering in low voices — Tokoyami telling Dark Shadow not to hog all the blanket space, Dark Shadow telling him to stop being so stiff and actually cuddle you properly.
It was chaotic.
It was ridiculous.
And it was perfect.
The rest of the class could laugh and whisper all they wanted. They didn’t get to experience how nice it was to have your quiet, poetic boyfriend… and his loud, teasing, overly affectionate shadow who refused to be left out of anything.
You wouldn’t trade your strange little trio for anything.
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
A/N: I love younger brother care!dark shadow-- like YES he's annoying, YES he don't give a shit.
comments and likes are always appreciated!! please go vote in the layout poll! voting ends 5/27!!
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synopsis: you've had a bad day, but your adorable roommate knows exactly how to fix it ! ⋮ warnings: pure fluff ! ⋮ pairing: roommate x fem!reader
you 15:33
today was hell
and i still have 2h of my shift left 😭
dumb roomie 15:37
damn sry to hear that
the day had been the epitome of miserable.
you dragged your feet into the apartment, your heavy bag hitting the floor with a dull thud. the harsh overhead lights bore into your skull as flashes of dreary lectures, crude customers and reprimands from your boss streamed through your head. you let out a shudder and kicked your shoes off, determined to forget all about the day's shenanigans. easier said than done, you could already feel a dejected pit growing in your chest.
as you called out a half-hearted greeting announcing your arrival, an aroma suddenly hit your nose. you sniffed, smelling garlic and a hint of basil. you made your way to the open dining table, poking at a laid-out covered plate while silently registering the heavy footsteps of your roommate.
did he cook?
just as you uncovered the dish to reveal a delicious plate of pasta, he appeared in your peripheral vision. you whipped around, and the look of surprise on your face must've been bold enough to make him crack a smile.
"you made this?"
"yeah. why're you so shocked?"
you scoffed, turning back to look at the tufts of cheese sprinkled over perfectly cooked penne, slathered with red sauce. "well- it's just, you hate cooking! but oh my god, you're so good at it!"
you felt him walk closer, coming to a standstill just behind you. you heard a husky chuckle before he said in that low voice you fantasised about in bed, "how would you know? you haven't tasted it yet."
"i have a radar for these kinds of things." you muttered back, turning your head to meet his eye, jolting at the closeness of his face. he was so near you could feel the warmth radiating off his body.
"let's hope it's better than your other radar. you didn't realise cam was gay until the end of modern family's pilot."
"shut up. why'd you cook anyway? thursday is take out night."
he smirked, a huff escaping him. "everyday is take out night."
you narrowed your eyes playfully. he relented.
"you had a hard day. wanted to do something nice."
"aw wait, that's so sweet."
his adorably crinkled eyes searched yours, and you swore he could hear your heartbeat. "again, the surprise is pretty insulting."
his fingers gripped a fork lying on the table and brought it to the plate, stabbing a chunk of pasta before bringing it to your lips. you staunchly ignored the adrenaline rush and bit into it before nerves took over. it was delicious. not some hi-fi restaurant shit - but warm, comforting goodness.
your eyes shut and before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around him. you could hear his rough exhale, before he tentatively held up his hands and rested them on you.
"thank you", your muffled voice sounded from his chest. "i needed this."
nothing satisfies shouta more than your warm, lustrous lips drooling around the base of his shaft - a generous, slick sheen of precum and lipgloss slathered all over his cock. when you lick and kiss it all over, relishing in his groans of pleasure from how passionately you make out with his fat tip.
"fuck, quit teasing me like that." he's typically impatient, the type of man who refuses to take his sweet time when it comes to his own body and pleasure. he claims that he hates when you edge him, initially opposed to the idea of giving up control in the bedroom. "just, let me use your mouth. c'mon baby, please." his aversion to submission is questionable given how easily he melts into the simplest touch, resting only the tip inside your warm mouth.
just like the rest of his cock, his tip is its perfect match. the roundness is perfect for the shape of your greedy lips and size thick enough to stretch the corners of your mouth. "that's fuckin' it, baby. need more, need you to drool for me more." shouta's nails pry at your scalp, which only happens if you're choking on him entirely or just swiping his sensitive slit with the tip of your tongue. in this case, it's the latter - you've never seen him so pathetically defeated by pleasure, awaiting more lubrication to pour from your hot, silky mouth.
"oh fuck, good girl." your incoming flow of spit soaks his length down to his balls, plenty for him to work with but not quite enough to get himself off. you'd never get him to admit it, but a few of the strongest orgasms he's had were the result of submission. "you're gonna make me blow my load, keep edging me while i jerk off." his hand does all the work, pumping his shaft up and down vigorously while avoiding your eyes. he doesn't want to cum just yet, but that doesn't stop him from begging - you staring back into his soul with those seductive eyes, blown wide from the erotic nature of oral sex, it would kill him.
"need to cum, need to fuckin' cum. god, please." in the rare instances that you meet his eyes, they reflect his erratic physical state, how damn close he is to the pleasure he craves. he fucks up into his fist with newfound speed the closer he gets, elevating his hips ever so slightly - cause you'd never allow him to cum in your mouth after disobeying you, maybe not at all. and he knows this, grateful for any lubrication from your sloppy mouth that grips him with urgency.
in one careful motion, you remove your mouth completely, every nerve in his body screaming at him to shove himself down that slutty throat of yours. "wanna cum, sho?" one wink undoes him, the gesture giving him the green light to fill your mouth up with his seed after being edged for more than an hour. "ah, f-fuck. feels so damn good i-" he sputters nonsense, hips bucking inconsistently with each intense spurt from his throbbing tip, which is still the only part of his cock trapped inside your mouth.
he fills your mouth completely, hot cum overflowing past the corners and sliding down the arch of your throat. the sheer amount of his cum would stain your tastebuds for days, a volume of liquid he could only produce if he'd just let you take over for once.
IN YOUR PUSSY!
nothing frustrates shouta more than how mean you can be when he's balls deep in your pussy, especially in positions that require him to surrender. "fucking hell, i swear. don't make me, ugh-" different variations of cowgirl are ideal for taunting him, withdrawing his cock nearly all the way so your hole barely clutches the tip. edging him with your pussy often results in failure on his end, but you can't really blame the man.
you feel so damn tight and warm when he spears you relentlessly, so close to orgasm where he wouldn't dare to pull out. he slows the rhythm of his hips, watching you lean back in cowgirl keeping himself seated inside you. he can see everything - your thighs caging him, sweat forming on the undersides of your breasts as they bounce, your flexible torso writhing against him so perfectly.
but his favorite part had to be how divine your cunt looked from his angle - drenched folds, a stretched hole, a cute clit peeking out from under its hood. he could easily have pulled out and jerked himself to completion, covering the outside of your gorgeous pussy with a thick load. an effort he's been close to accomplishing many times when your hips are raised up high - higher than usual, tilting your body further back so only his tip remains inside.
he's enamored at the sight, your hips rolling in small circles to stimulate all surfaces of his tip without bouncing up and down. "hate this, hate when you tease me like this. can't just let me ruin your hole the way i please?" shouta collapses on his back and searches for a pillow to alleviate the tension soaring through his neck. "can't keep up with you anymore, just- fuck me, already. stop with these games." he's waiting patiently until false hope settles in, realizing your intentions are to get him off agonizingly slow. "aren't you tired? don't you want to- i don't know. slam your ass down on me? fuck my cock like you own it?"
"you think i don't own this cock? wish you could take a look at yourself." it dawns upon him, shame consuming him before a pitiful whine escapes his throat. "we don't have to fuck hard and fast for me to tell you that. look how damn wrecked you are just from me riding the tip." he's too close, the way his balls tighten and hips threaten to bury, fearing he'd cum immediately with one light clench at this point.
"baby, i'm too-" in one final deep thrust, your wet cunt unravels him - sinking down on his thick girth that he'd been deprived of for hours, the victim of your sadistic, sexual torture. he cums harder than any man should, any other man ever has - heat overflowing every surface of his body and nerves set aflame in numbing bliss. your bodies are still connected, the intense heat leaving your pussy with each dribble of his cum seeping past your hole.
"holy shit. what the hell did you just do to me?" the back of his head slams against the pillow, exhausted from how much energy exerted from just one trick. "filled you up damn good, though. huh?"
ahhh i was nonnie who requested the mv3 fic and didnt realise you had replied ages ago until after i read the request im so sorry queen! but ik someone said for reader to get her lick back but honestly… itd be so hot for max to rail her against the balcony! sorry to everyone else standing up against his toxicity but im a WHORE. thank you for the fic! sorry again for not responding earlier but yes 100% fine w the smut
no worries babe! and honestly i agree w/ u so bad omg i love whoring around ugh. sorry if the fic was ass i just hate writing nowadays 😭
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: slightly toxic verstappen
the tears falling from your lashes were soaking the blanket. you could tell by the wetness seeping through to your thigh. you sniffled yet again as the picture on your phone stared back at you, mocking you.
there he stood, in all his glory, hands wrapped around another girl and tongue so deep in her throat she was probably gagging. the news article glared on your screen, an incomprehensible dutch headline at the top.
you were so naïve.
wiping your nose with your sleeve, you got up from the bed on shaky legs. you threw your phone on the bed and walked over to the sink, splashing cold water on your face. your bloodshot eyes were now steely, a mission in mind.
you couldn't let him do this. let him walk all over you while you poured your heart out to him like a silly lovestruck girl. he needed to be taught a lesson. and lessons are only learnt when they're taught to people who pay attention.
oh, you were going to get his attention alright.
your fist rapped against the front door as you steadily ignored the stinging at the corners of your eyes. you caught your reflection in the metallic elevator double-doors. a pretty black dress hung low on your hips, accentuating your natural curves and pushing your tits up. the accent pearl necklace sitting on your clavicles glinted in the harsh hallway lamp as glittery eyeshadow above your lashes caught its light. you wrung your hands, taking a deep breath as you listened to the raucous music emanating from the loft. the loud laughter and chatter washed off as you heard footsteps nearing the door. heavy footsteps, ones you recognised.
the oak door swung inwards and you were blasted by the reek of alcohol. scrunching your nose, you instead focused on the man in front of you, dark hair falling over his stark blue eyes. the white dress shirt he wore spanned tight against his rising chest. you could see the grin fading from his face as his eyes fell on you, grip on the doorknob tightening.
"schatzi…you look beautiful."
you licked your lips and held your head high. holding eye contact, your hand found purchase between his pecs (which were annoyingly solid) and pushed him as hard as you could. he barely moved an inch. but he backed away at your gaze anyway, hands held up in defeat.
you walked in. the sound of your heels against the floor was the only noise heard in the now near silent room, party-goers staring at you instead with red beer cups in hand. everyone watched as your shaking finger rose to point at him, eyes maniacally bulging.
"how dare you."
something flicked through his eyes as you fumbled with your phone, raising the screen to his face so everyone could see the picture of him making out with another girl.
his gaze flicked between the screen and your face, before he finally muttered in a firm voice, "we were never exclusive."
you stared at him in pure shock and anger, before hysterically screaming.
"what do you mean? we've been going out for 2 months!"
max stared at you for a beat before grabbing your arm. his grip was rigid, but not to the point of pain. you tried to shake him off but couldn't. your eyes met his, and there was something weird about his stare.
..was he pleading?
your guard lowered for a second and he took advantage of it by pulling you aside, glaring at the onlookers as he took you to the balcony.
upon reaching, he gently let go of your arm before turning around to lock the veranda door. you stared, lips parted as he hung his head, back still turned towards you.
"i think we need to talk, baby."
stop this is so ass ive been hating writing recently. anyway i just did this cause an awesome anon asked for a fic like this, so thank you!! divider creds: @uzmacchiato . lemme know if yall want a pt2 w balcony sex
Pervert!choso who noticed you during the first week of university, immediately captured by your beauty and intelligence. You were attentive and participated in all of your classes, kind to everybody, and what most would call a catch.
Pervert!choso who knew he had to get with you one day, no matter what lengths he would have to go to. He mustered up the courage to sit next to you during a lecture, quickly becoming yet another friend to you once conversation struck.
Pervert!choso who jerks off to the thought of your voice and your scent every day after classes. He’s holed up in his dorm room, roommate gone. One hand thrown over his face, as though hiding his shame, while he pumps his slick cock, breathy whimpers falling from his mouth.
Pervert!choso who’s eyes are on your tits more than your mouth during conversation. He doesn’t know if you notice—quite frankly, he doesn’t care. The outline of your bra against your fitted shirt, holding your full tits always makes him have to hide a hard-on.
Pervert!choso who sneaks photos of you every chance he gets. He always has his phone on hand, ready to snap a quick picture whenever you bend over to grab something and your skirt or shorts ride up, or if your ass looks fuller than usual in the jeans you chose to wear that day. Once, you passed out at a frat party, tits practically spilling out of your dress. He had never moved quicker, fumbling with his phone to get a picture he’d use to jack off to later.
Pervert!choso who saves all those pictures to a hidden folder, using them routinely to help him masturbate. He’s on his stomach, grinding hard into his pillow while one hand pathetically zooms in on your tits. How he’s borderline salivating over a blurry picture? Not even he knows. However, that same picture never fails to make him shoot a fat load into his boxers.
Pervert!choso who has wet dreams about you more than he would like to admit. He wakes up sweating and hard, trying to focus on remembering the image of him balls-deep in your pussy while he pumps his cock, biting his lower lip to muffle his moans. The vulnerability of the night makes him more ashamed than during the day; he keeps telling himself that he’ll ask you out, and stop these perverted fantasies, but when will that be?
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✮ I CAN'T BE YOUR SUPERMAN ⸺ in which you had a beef with underground rapper!choso and he finally had enough.
the wet slapping sounds in the dressing room sounded loud, and the filthy moans felt damn near deafening. it almost felt like the whole venue could hear them, even though some girlie was currently out on stage screaming her lungs out about heartbreak and some asshole ex.
nobody really knew when it all started. well, maybe fans did. probably back during that interview.
q: it’s no secret fans think you and choso make a great pair. do you think there’s any chance of a collab? a: well he’s cute, sure. but i'm not really into artists whose whole lyrics revolve around sucking their own dick. sounds like music for dudes with tiny cocks tbh
or maybe it started later, when he fired back in one of his new tracks with a nasty little line: "all these pop bitches look the same, i couldn't tell 'em apart even if i fucked 'em all at once."
maybe things finally hit their breaking point tonight, at the annual awards show where you ended up presenting him an award and accidentally loosened your grip, nearly dropping the trophy, making him bend down and catch it, then you giggled behind your hand.
“oops, i’m such a mess today. who would’ve thought our favorite little rapper would throw me this off balance.”
whatever the fuck it was, it all led to this: you pressed against a table in an empty dressing room, a huge body trapping you from behind so completely you could barely breathe.
his hand moved faster than you could react. fingers wrapped around your chin, tilting your head back just enough to expose your throat. his lips brushed against your neck, then his tongue slid out, hot and wet, and you couldn’t stop the quiet moan slipping from your throat. he dragged his tongue slowly along your skin, teeth grazing your jaw lightly, and the second he tried turning your face toward him, you jerked away.
“i’ll fucking kill you if you ruin my makeup.” “such a pretty face with such a filthy mouth. don’t worry, i’ll find somewhere else to leave marks on you.”
his mouth dropped lower again, this time latching onto the spot where your neck met your shoulder. he bit down, hard enough to hurt, hard enough to make you gasp. then he soothed it with his tongue, sucking a bruise into your skin while his hands found your waist. the butterfly top was thin as hell, and he shamelessly yanked it down, exposing your tits.
“fuck, look at you.” your nipples were already hard, sensitive, desperate for attention. he didn’t keep you waiting. his palms wrapped around your chest, thumbs lazily rubbing over your sensitive nipples in slow circles. “perfect tits just begging to be played with.”
you bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan, but then he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers with just the right amount of pressure. “ah!… hnnnh!” “yeah, that’s it. lemme hear those pretty little sounds.”
he kneaded your chest, teasing and squeezing your nipples on purpose, tugging at them until you arched back against him, your ass pressing against the huge cock straining in his pants.
“nice skirt,” he muttered against your skin. “bet you wore it for me.” “wore it ’cause it matched the top.” “doesn’t match shit. you wore it so i’d have easy access.” “in your dreams.”
his hands left your chest, and for a second you thought maybe you’d pissed him off. instead, he grabbed the hem of your miniskirt and yanked it up to your waist, exposing the wet patch soaking through your panties. the cool air hit your skin and made you shiver.
he spread your legs apart, forcing you to stand wider. one hand slid around to the front, dragging slowly down your stomach until his fingers found your clit through the fabric. he pressed down hard, rubbing over it through the thin lace, and your knees almost gave out instantly.
“ah! fuck… choso!” “look at you. already wet for me, huh?” “fuck you.” “that’s the plan.” his fingers pressed against your pussy through your panties, feeling the heat there. “jesus christ, you’re soaked. and you’re really gonna stand here and tell me you didn’t plan this?”
“my body just does what it… nnngh!… does…” “there she is,” he practically purred, working slow, torturous circles against you. “wanna act all tough? your pussy says otherwise. soaked my fingers through your panties already. guess she’s my biggest fan, huh?” you wanted to argue, but the words died in your throat while your fingers gripped the edge of the vanity hard enough for your knuckles to turn white.
his thumb sped up, flicking against your clit in fast, ruthless motions. you were so wet slick was already running down your inner thighs, and he pushed his middle finger barely an inch inside you before pulling it back out, coating his thumb with your wetness. “that’s right, baby. gonna show you just how small my cock really is."
the sound of his voice right by your ear, the wet noises of his fingers playing with you, the sight of it all in the mirror — it was too much and somehow still not enough. you heard the sharp click of his belt buckle, the rough sound of his zipper. then he freed his cock, the tip nudging insistently against your wet folds.
but he didn’t push in. not yet. instead, he wrapped a hand around himself and dragged the tip between your folds, sliding up, spreading your lips apart, pressing right against your clit, then back down, rubbing the head against your entrance without actually entering you. over and over again. slow and fucking torturous.
“wanna feel just how messy you got for me,” he muttered, almost to himself. he watched his cock slide through your pussy, collecting your slick. “look at that. you’re fucking soaked because of me. got me covered in you.”
“you asshol— choso, please…” “shh, i know, i know. but first i wanna see what kind of mess you can turn into. wanna feel you dripping all over my balls before i stretch this sweet pussy out.”
he kept rubbing against you, dragging himself through your folds for another fucking minute. every time the tip brushed your clit, your whole body jolted, muffled little cries slipping from your lips. “aaah!… just… ngh!…”
finally, when your legs were shaking so hard you could barely stay upright anymore, he lined himself up. he pushed in an inch — just the tip — then pulled back out immediately. then again, a little deeper this time.
“look in the mirror,” he ordered. and you did. your eyes were glazed over, cheeks flushed, chest rising with ragged breaths. one of his hands gripped your thigh while the other guided himself against you. “want you to watch me fill this cocky little pussy with my cock.”
then he slammed into you in one rough thrust all the way to the base, and you watched your mouth fall open in the reflection. a high, broken sound tore out of you, eyes widening when you saw yourself taking all of him. he was big, stretching you almost painfully, but your body adjusted greedily anyway, clenching tight around him.
“fuck… haaah! mmngh, fucckk, cho—” you whined, palms pressed desperately against the vanity. “look at that,” he grunted, nearly pulling all the way out before snapping back into you again. the sound of his hips smacking against your ass echoed through the room. “look how you take it. what happened to all that shit you were talking now, huh?”
you could barely think straight, let alone form words. he filled you so deep, so completely, stretching your walls while they squeezed around him greedily, and the mirror showed everything — your tits bouncing, his hand gripping your thigh hard enough to bruise. “still… haah!… still waiting for somethi— mmmh! — impressive.”
he laughed, but it broke off into a groan. he sped up, thrusting harder now, the mirror fogging up from your breathing. his hand left your thigh and cracked against your ass with a sharp smack. “yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he hissed, smacking the other cheek next. “can pretend all you want. your pussy’s squeezing me like it wants me buried in here forever.”
blindly, you reached back, grabbed his hair, and yanked his head toward you. he hissed from the pain, but it only made him thrust deeper, harder, his rhythm stuttering. “fuck— ha! ah! — you…” “already am, baby,” he shot back right against your ear, breath hot and uneven.
his hand found your clit again, rubbing tight circles over it in perfect sync with every snap of his hips. the double stimulation was overwhelming. you could feel the pressure building, your orgasm winding tighter and tighter low in your stomach. “cho… please… mmnh!” “please what?” he leaned down, licking a stripe of sweat from the side of your neck. “please faster? please harder? use your words, pretty girl.”
“please, just fucking move.” “there’s my good girl.” he fucked into you faster, deeper, and the sounds filling the room were obscene “the wet squelch of his cock sliding into you, your breathy moans, his low groans, the vanity creaking and rattling against the wall.
he buried his face in your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, and you let him, because it felt way too fucking good to stop him. “gonna leave my mark on you,” he muttered against your skin. “make sure everyone out there knows whose pussy this is.” “you don’t” haaah… own m—” “tonight i fucking do.” his teeth scraped against your shoulder.
his thumb circled your clit while pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your stomach, hot and relentless. your thighs trembled, your breathing broke into shaky little sobs. you wanted to hold out longer, just to make him work for it, to prove he was just another asshole with an ego way too fucking big, but he was so deep inside you, filling you so perfectly, hitting places nobody else ever could, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.
“choso… nngh!… i–i’m gonna.. fucckk!” “cum on my cock. cum on my cock and look me in the eyes when you do it. wanna feel your greedy little pussy milk every last drop outta me.”
your eyes locked with his in the mirror — completely glued to each other, and that was what finally shoved you over the edge. you came with a broken cry, your pussy clenching around him over and over while he kept fucking into you through it. “haaah! ah! fuckfuckfuck! choso!” “fuck, that’s it. squeeze me. squeeze my fucking cock.”
he was close too. you could tell from the way his rhythm started breaking apart, from the bruising grip he had on your thigh. you reached back and wrapped your hand around his throat. “pull out,” you said, your voice rough. “if you cum inside me, i swear to god i’ll cut your dick off while you’re sleeping.”
he froze for half a second before laughing. “you’re fucking insane,” he said, but he still pulled out with a low groan. his cock was wet and swollen, and he jerked himself off twice, three times, eyes flicking between the mirror — your ruined makeup, your fucked-out expression and your bare ass, red from all the smacks, before he came with a loud groan.
“you look so goddamn pretty, fuckfuckfuck.” his cum splattered across your thighs, dripping down onto your soaked skirt, your stomach, even a drop landing on your exposed back. he was still coming, body twitching while he slumped weakly against your shoulder, breathing hard.
you pushed yourself off the vanity on shaky legs and turned to face him. his cum cooled against your skirt, your top hanging open, your hair completely wrecked while he stared at your swollen, wet pussy and smirked. “can’t let the others see you lookin’ like this, can we? want me to clean you up?”
more ? art from @ thatsallitchief on x | sparkle from @ kthice
a/n: this is not dub-con / non-con, more like a hate-sex but without actual hate lol; wanted me some em and christina aguilera story
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