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script-nef · 2 years

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my exams are finished!!!

time to unleash the horny beast :>

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script-nef · 2 years

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yeah you fucking know it

i'm literally debating on whether i should or shouldn't write him as the salesman in squid game despite not watching a single episode and only knowing him through gifsets-

hi i'm just randomly simping for gong yoo now even thought i've watched like one movie that had him-

#comment reblog #i mean like #he a SNACK snack #soooooo #and he radiates dominance #i would let him do a lot of things to me #and then i would thank him

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script-nef · 2 years

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Warning: 18+/smut, violence (it’s Dabi, c’mon), use of fire for branding, dacryphilia, dub-con, dom/sub, breeding kink, objectification, misogyny adlkgjakdgj sorry, creampie, fingering

He doesn’t even know your name. Does he need to? Baby is such a nice one, rolling off the tip of his tongue like a clear marble and gnashing between his teeth. Ruin it completely, get rid of its soft and sweet innuendo, replace it with mockery and scorn. That’s all you are to Dabi. Someone to ruin.

And he does it exceptionally well.

It was easy at the start. You, all wide-eyed and shivering when you woke up, asking who are you and why am I here and why do you look like that. The last one hurt a bit. Just a little. So he hurt you back. Just a… lot. He’s not a nice guy, so he repaid back a hundredfold. God, that was fun. In late nights, when you’re faking sleep and trembling ever so slightly against his body, he can hear the explosive shrieks and begs that tumbled off your lips as he branded his name into you. A small ‘dabi’ on the base of your spine, careful not to dig too deep. All your kicking and attempts to run away are some of your most attractive qualities, after all.

That and the tears. He never realised it before, but the whole red and puffy-eyed begging thing is doing it for him. You cried every single time for the first few weeks. Like a goddamn hose, the waterworks started whenever he even stepped into the room. One foot in and you’re sniffling. Call you by the pet name and you’re whimpering. He licked the salty tracks off your face when he was pounding into you, or the drops that slipped onto your tits when you rode him nice and deep, and it somehow tasted so sweet, so addictive. That meant it was bad times for you and great times for him. The tears that came out when he dragged you by the ankle to the bed tasted the best. You have no one to blame but yourself, since you were the one that stubbornly said that you didn’t want to sleep with him. (Who said he was going to sleep with you though? That shit’s too soft for him. He’s going to fuck and wreck you, nice and simple.)

After a couple of months, you got it. Finally. Took you fucking long enough.

Be quiet unless he talks to you first, never cover up your moans and cries, never reject him (Or I will let everyone in the fucking city have a turn on you was his threat when you kept dodging his kisses), try to escape because the adrenaline rush makes you all hot and twitchy, meaning it’s extra pleasant for him when he catches up, crushing you against the wall and pushing himself in without hesitation. Your breathless gasps and whimpers are also a plus. (You don’t know this, but it’s not like you can succeed in escaping anyways. Kurogiri has the place locked down tight.)

You’re more obedient now. That doesn’t mean you’re boring, oh no. He can still see the glint of hatred and defiance in your eyes when he fucks you, how you dig your growing nails into your palm so you can focus on the pain instead of the unwanted pleasure. Understandable. Fucking annoying, but understandable.

It’s just that he thinks that you think that as long as you play by his rules, he’ll treat you like a person.

Which explains why you’re so fucking dumb all the time, not just when your brain is filled with cotton as he drives his cock into your wet and still-so-tight pussy. Man, he’s fucked a lot of dummies in his life, most of them air-brained villainfuckers who ran away crying when he was just getting started, but you really take the cake.

A person… Nah. you’re not really a person to him, not anymore. More like… a stress ball. Yeah, that’s apt enough. He throws you against the wall whenever he’s angry and annoyed. Slight difference is that after he throws you against the wall, he pins you there and forces you to take his tongue down your throat, let your garbled moans out for everyone on the other side of the door to hear, slam himself right into you without caring if you’re ready or not.

(Most times you are, only because Dabi never lets you clean yourself up, never lets you scrape out the unending globs of cum that he specially shoved into you because he had the brilliant idea of shackling you to him with a baby, always makes you walk around in front of everyone with his seeds clearly dripping down your inner thighs then cackling at your obvious embarrassment. Some of them look away while some coo at how well he’s trained you, obeying his fucked up commands without a peep.

He checks. It’s the first thing he does every morning, every night, every time he comes back from fucking whatever. Flipping your flimsy dress up and sticking two of his fingers in you, telling you to shut up so he can hear the gross squelching and see the white fluid coating his digits when he pulls them back out. Only for a second though, because it’s getting pushed into your mouth to be cleaned up nicely. You know the routine by now.

In the beginning, you said no, tried to get every single drop out as soon as possible, then said some bullshit nonsense about hygiene or whatever. Honestly wasn’t listening. To shut you up, he fucks you every day now, replacing the day-old—more like a couple-hours-old—cum with a fresh load. Dabi thanks whatever is higher up for his endless stamina and libido.)

Or a cocksleeve. A live and warm one, responsive too. Clenching down whenever he slaps your ass and tightens his fingers around your pretty little neck. You have no purpose living in the headquarters other than for his enjoyment, for him to use and fill. That’s all you’re good for, now and forever. And you spend most of your time on his cock, whether it be stretching your throat open or stuffed into your cunny, so it’s not that much of an exaggeration? Legs around his waist, clinging on tight whenever he’s walking around, the thumb on your tongue keeping you silent during meetings and soft moans when he cums inside of you. Usually he likes you loud, but it is an important meeting and all, so. Some exceptions can be made.

It’s gotten to the point that your tummy’s a little swollen. Not from being pregnant—boo—but from having so much of his white hot spunk inside you. It’s one of his biggest achievements, making that little bump. And the sight of it makes him raring to go again, to make it even more noticeable. Until it’s finally replaced with a clump of cells. It would be a whole lot more easier if he could shove his cock, or just even the head of it, through the tight opening deep inside you and into the baby room, but fucking anatomy said that’s impossible. He’s even thinking of finding a person with a Quirk that will help him. No luck yet so far though.

Even if there isn’t, it’s fine. He’s gotten a lot of things he wanted so far in life, and this is just another goal he can tick off in the near future. He’s going to make sure of that.

#charmy's craving #dabi x reader #dabi imagine #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya imagine #touya x reader #touya imagine #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha imagine #boku no hero academia imagine #bnha #boku no hero academia #dabi #todoroki touya #touya #smut #female reader

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script-nef · 2 years

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hi i'm just randomly simping for gong yoo now even thought i've watched like one movie that had him-

#it was train to busan #he looked #VERY delectable covered in blood #like sir #you are a whole snack #thank you

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script-nef · 3 years

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hi i'm simping for itto now

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script-nef · 3 years

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me: time to study for the exams

my brain: reverse harem where the reader is the queen and has a horde of husbands (marvel characters) who help her rule the kingdom and also have great sex

me: no wait-

my brain: super soft fic with peter parker

me: hold up-

my brain: 11k+ fic with bucky because you're a simp

me: please-

my brain: unfiltered filthy smut with various characters

me: ...

my brain: :D

me: why

my brain: :D fuck you

#i love how no one in this relationship is having a good time #my brain was specifically made to torture me #the only outlet i have is writing and my depraved friends #:')

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script-nef · 3 years

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das me every day

and will do! thank you for reading!

anything involving rick flag and smut. please. i’m starving out here.

Warning: 18+/smut, hickeys, thigh riding, teasing, desk sex, cum eating A/N: hi, my middle name is "depraved", nice to meet you. hope this is up to your expectations!

There’s just something so comforting about being near Rick. It might be the fact that he envelopes you perfectly with hugs, bends down to place kisses on your face, grips your hand with tender gentleness and whispers I love you just before falling asleep. That’s why it’s always so hard when he goes away for months, no calls or texts as they can be intercepted, just the pre-sending-away sex and his clothes for you to take. A couple of days are okay, a week is manageable but the rare month-long separations are worse.

But the worst is when he’s back home, inside the house and a hand’s reach away but neglects you for work.

Neglect might be a strong word. He’s not doing it on purpose, not really. Just that he likes to get things over and done with so it doesn’t nag him from the back of his head. But it does mean that he holes himself up in the study, shuffling through thick stacks of paper and scribbling info into thousands of boxes. For hours on end. While you fiddle with your phone on an empty and cold bed, eyes glued onto the time and watching it change so goddamn slowly.

It finally turns into nine oh one, and you’re fucking done. Shrugging out of the nightgown, you scour the wardrobe for his shirts, one of the button-ups that cover half your thighs and reach well-past your fingertips. A couple of buttons off the top so that he can see the start of your cleavage. Then, after a second of contemplation in front of the mirror, you slide off your panties and chuck them into the laundry bin. For extra insurance the plan works.

“Rick?” He’s hunched over a file with only the lamplight on. You’ve told him off about how that would ruin his vision but he still does it, claiming it’s more comfortable. You shut the door behind you, silently making your way to his side even though he doesn’t raise his head.

“Nearly done. Just wait a bit, sweetheart.” The low rumble of his voice makes you tingle, the electric feeling shooting to the tips of your fingers and toes.

“That’s what you said an hour ago…” Hints of petulance tinge your words, trying to subtly guilt him into compliance. The scratching of the pen stops momentarily, making your heart soar, but then start right back up again. Your fingers tighten around his shirt sleeve. “Fine. But I’m going to stay right here and you can’t say shit.”

“Sweetheart—” You clamber onto his lap, ignoring the hitch in his breathing as he finally notices what you’re wearing, and plant yourself firmly on one of his thighs. Even wiggle your hips a bit to drive in the message that you’re staying there until he moves. “Fuck, what are you wearing—” You kiss to silence him, arms coiling around his neck and knees digging into the chair.

“Well, you were off for so long, and I got so lonely. Your clothes smell like you so I always sleep in them. And since you weren’t coming to bed…” He releases a groan at your overtly sultry voice and kisses you back, nipping at your lips and tongue trying to slip into your mouth. But you close it shut and lean back, eyelashes fluttering in faux innocence. His face crinkles in confusion, eyebrows tensing together, and it takes all you have to not laugh, lest you give away your plan. “I understand, your work is important and you need to finish this. I’ll just wait here and we can go to sleep when you’re done, right?” The added head tilt makes him close his mouth and nod stiffly, a hand placed on the small of your back to keep you in place. Maybe not the best choice for him because at this proximity you can smell his cologne, woody and familiar, and the scent never fails to make you horny. You can feel your slick pooling into the spot on his pants, leaving a damp patch where your sex directly meets his thigh.

You place your head on the crook of his neck, humming a tune and playing with strands of his hair. He stays still for a while, making sure that you’re not up to anything, then starts writing again. Without pause. You peek a glance back and see him reaching for more paper from a stack, shifting his position slightly to work around you.

You ground your hips down to his leg, rubbing the lips of your pussy on the fabric of his pants with the slightest moan peeking out of your mouth at how good it feels after so fucking long. His thigh is so thick and firm from all the hours of training, feels so good against your aching core. Rick freezes instantly, the hand on the small of your back clenching the shirt now, making the tails of it ride up to expose your bare sex. He takes one look at it and plants his forehead on yours, curses flinging out.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to distract you… I’ll behave.” A glare of fuck, what are you doing to me is shot your way which you reflect with a sweet smile, playing with the buttons on his collar. Picking them open and baring the tanned skin underneath, clean of marks because it’s been weeks. “C’mon, you said ‘nearly done’. I wanna go to sleep with you.” You finish off with a light peck on his lips and a nod towards the pile of work, encouraging him to get to it. There’s a slight tremble in his hand, like he’s just barely restraining himself. He’s so easy, so pliant underneath you.

You latch onto the skin of his neck as soon as he starts again, sucking marks of red and orange onto the skin and slide up his leg, leaving a trail of your arousal in its wake. His hand moves to clamp down on your ass, locking you into place so that you can’t reach his hips, his cock that’s stirring to life. His growl of stop is drowned under your groans as you rut against him, your clit catching onto the cloth and the friction inching you towards your climax. You can feel it bubbling under your skin, the warm and itchy sensation reaching out everywhere, just one more rub and you’ll finally get what you want.

You’re hoisted into the air, your high ripped away from your grasp, and your ass connects with the desk, right on top of Rick’s work. He’s looming over you when you look up, face hidden in the shadows with chest heaving up and down, one hand gripping your waist and the other holding a broken pen. He slants his still-clothed hips into yours without a word, soaking the front of his pants and making you gasp.

He’s hard when you take him out, thick with precum oozing from the tip, dripping down his length and onto your clit. A shiver runs up your back. You try to hold his hand but he slams your upper body down to the desk, spine connecting with the wood, sending everything clattering to the floor, and sheathes himself inside you with one stroke. Your squeals and cries go ignored as he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder to drive in further, to make sure that every single inch of him is pulling you apart. The head of his cock catches every sensitive spot that he knows from countless practices, making you mewl and writhe within his grasp.

“God, baby, did you get tighter while I was gone?”

There’s nothing in the room except the wet slaps of your bodies connecting over and over, your moans that spill out between kisses. Your fingers can barely find purchase on his shoulder at how roughly he’s thrusting into you and hitting all the correct spots, just flailing around uselessly and jelly-like. Electricity sparks across your skin as the shirt rips apart and your nipples brush against his chest, hardening with each contact. He rubs on the nub of your clit, pinching the bundle of nerves and making your toes curl and insides contract. It just makes you feel him that much more, every snap of his hips digging in deeper and taking up extra space that you can barely give. Finally, you pulse around him, keening into his mouth through the blank whiteness of your orgasm because the scraping of his blunt nails against your clit along with his cock that’s making a new home inside of you is too fucking much.

He pulls himself out just in time, the splatters of his seeds hitting the desk and papers crumpled underneath your thighs. Uneven gasps take over the room, the both of you coming down from your highs and back into your bodies. He notices the ink smudging his writing away while you’re blinking the spots away, trying to hear something other than just your heartbeat. Globs of cum decorate your hips, sliding down and staining the desk. You catch a strip of it with your finger, pooling it together until it drips down and into your awaiting mouth.

“Fuck, baby, you’re going to be the death of me.” The chair slams into the wall as he strides towards the bedroom, foot thudding on the wooden floor with you in his arms and you’re still boneless, just the twitches for now. And you have a feeling you’re not going to get control over your limbs anytime soon, not with him making sure the mattress has your body carved into it.

#comment reblog

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script-nef · 3 years

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adkjha i know right there's something so mind boggling about manhandling that makes me weak and pliant-