#fishstyx.dr

[fishstyx]

Slurpee please! With Nagito, Kazuichi, Hajime! Thank you, your writing makes me lose my mind <3

positions.

featuring. hinata hajime, nagito komaeda, souda kazuichi x gn!reader

genre. smut

tw. penetration, oral, breeding, degradation, implied hate fuck, implied mommy/daddy kink

✸ hinata hajime.

• hajime can be bashful when it comes to all things romance and sex.

• that’s why he loves to hit it from behind; it’s just so much easier to take control when you’re looking the other way. he doesn’t have to think about maintaining eye contact, or what to do with his hands, or that stupid face he makes when he cums.

• it’s to the point and straightforward. it’s no-nonsense, animalistic, and—when he’s doing it—brutal.

“on your fours.”

hajime’s tone borders on irritation, no doubt the payoff of teasing him all night long (in front of his friends and family no less). you do as he pleases, a little too eager as you climb on the bed and bounce on the bedsheets. something rages inside of him, quietly but surely, when you turn your head to look back expectantly.

in a blur of motion he’s grabbing you by the hips, clothed cock finding purchase between your asscheeks as he pulls up behind you.

“think you’re such a sly little thing, don’t you?” he growls, bucking his hips to the rhythm of mounting frustration. “think you’re so sneaky, with your hands shifting under the dinner table.”

he scoffs when you press back, ass bobbing up and down in anticipation. like you can’t take him seriously. or—and this makes his blood positively boil—more like you just won’t.

“such a textbook whore.”

he pins you in between his knees, pausing only to grimace at the ache in his balls, a nightlong ordeal with but a single remedy. you wiggle as best as you can in his ironclad hold, and though tauntingly or playfully he can’t quite tell, his mind is already set.

“this is gonna hurt.”

✸ nagito komaeda.

• nagito is more shameless in this regard. when he’s really into it, nothing can faze him.

• he’s starved for close intimacy, so he likes his bunny best in a tight mating press. he wants to feel every inch of you when you’re fucking, and that’s just about as close as he can get.

• even better if you can get your legs around his waist—the second he feels you wrapped around him is the second he’s ready to blow his load.

• good god, he could empty his balls inside you right then and there; but he holds out for as long as possible, if only to ride out the high a few moments longer.

he’s literally balls deep inside you.

he does his best to kiss the strain in your legs better, but every squelch of his slick harkens back to the burn in your muscle and the stretch of your walls. everything’s so snug, from the caress of his tongue to the press of his balls against your ass.

the buzz of your breath is his sole reward, mouth-to-mouth moan dampened by the crush of his lips. he savors it, echoes back in return, even, groaning just a little too loud as he slows his pace.

his thrusts are unhurried yet forceful, each push punctuated by the pause he gives to grind against your pelvis. it gives you shivers and him a means to last longer—though outlasting you outright is certainly out of the question.

so he fucks you even harder when he’s on the brink of collapse, bodies melded together as he coats your walls a solid white. his legs are giving out but he pushes his limit still, cause really, you’re not gonna breed yourself.

✸ souda kazuichi.

• souda kazuichi is a certified cock/cuntsucker. and a panty sniffer. and a general, all-around pervert.

• what he wouldn’t give for the chance to slow down and admire your body…

• there’s something about face-sitting in particular that gets him all hot and bothered.

• maybe it’s the act of being pinned down and sat on. maybe it’s the proximity it allows him to your most sensitive parts, all for himself to admire up close and personal.

• the smell of your slick is nothing short of intoxicating; believe me when i say he could spend all day underneath you.

“faster, baby.”

the broad of his tongue is mid-swipe as you grind on his face, shameless in your request for more. kazuichi is quick to oblige, long, languid strokes morphing into tight-knit swirls of desperation, grip on your thighs tightening as he moans in words of agreement.

“so good to me,” you whisper, hips rocking as his lips buzz against you, rumbly with something eager to please and to be pleased. the way your legs clench around his head is reward enough, but then you’re threading his fingers in his hair and calling his name, telling him he’s your sweet baby boy and that he’s doing such a good fucking job and that you’re so, so close.

he kisses you up as you’re creaming, places chaste pecks along your hip bone while you quiver and quake. he’s using his fingers now, pressuring you to and past climax, over the edge and then some.

don’t get him wrong, he loves pressing his face up against your heat—but he’d much rather watch as you gush at the end.

𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

fishstyx © 2021 ✸ all content and their rights belong to me. do not repost, reproduce, or modify anywhere.

[fishstyx]

Not sure if you're still doing the konbini event, but if you are, instant ramen for Hajime with a bottom fem reader pls? With breeding and overstimulation as the kinks!

𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄 + 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

cw. fem!reader, overstimulation, praise

“taking my seed so well,” hajime practically preens, one hand tangled between your legs, the other pressing down on your abdomen. he can feel his thick cock in your belly this way, as if he’s making sure he’s breeding you right, that you’re taking his sperm deep enough.

you’re nothing but incoherent babbles, stuffed full of hot cum that may never see the light of day if he keeps bottoming out like this. a skilled hand plays with your sensitive nub, fondles it as you spasm in ecstasy, overloaded with sinful delights.

“now that i’ve felt this pussy raw, i can never go back. need to plug you up, need to make my sweet angel all mine,” he says, groaning when you flutter around him. you’re so taut for him, legs wrapped around his back, pussy walls coaxing another load out of him.

mmf, is the only response you succeed with, so pathetic and small compared to all of hajime’s passion and love. he doesn’t mind for a single moment, pumping hot semen inside you regardless, hoping—knowing that this time, it’ll take.

[fishstyx]

instant ramen plz, bottom fem with hajime hinata :0 overstimulation, degrading, & rope bunny ?

𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄 + 𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘

cw. fem!reader, overstimulation, degradation

“so fucking perverted.”

it���s amazing how unaffected, how devoid of emotion hajime sounds, as he eyes his creation—elbows above your head, wrists criss-crossed at the nape—like he’s nothing to do with the very vulnerable position you’re in, legs tensed and jittery.

you’ve creamed around his cock twice already, still buried inside you in its entirety, twitching in virile reaction. hajime’s a very visual guy, you see, so when he sees you with your arms all holstered up, abused pussy red and sopping just for him, there’s no way he’s stopping there.

“whose pussy is this?” he asks, stroking your puffy clit up and down, faster and harder the longer you take to respond.

“yours, and only yours,” you manage between shaky, spent breaths, craning your neck as best you can to watch him rub your juices all over your overworked nub.

“that’s right, this pussy is mine,” he says, that last word rising with venom as his tone begins to sour. “and that’s all you’ll ever be, just a warm hole for me to fuck and suck, my personal cumslut to use however i want, understand?”

and with your hands quite literally tied up, there’s nothing you could possibly do to disprove him, no way to defy the way your distended walls milk him dry, crude noises punctuating each thrust forward.

you understand, alright.

[fishstyx]

instant ramen, fem bottom reader with nagito please? praising, degradation, and exhibition?

𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐎 + 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐗

cw. fem!reader, praise, degradation, exhibitionism, creampie

“feels so ah”—nagito drags his first thrust out in painstakingly slow motion, hips stuttering halfway through his languid movement—“mazing inside you…”

your cheeks heat at his heartfelt words, even if they are only a fraction as embarrassing as your current location; swaddled in moonlight and soft ocean breeze, there’s little to hide you from the residents, and your fellow neighbors, of jabberwock island.

he smirks when you try to stifle your moans, a wedge of your t-shirt tucked in between your teeth, fabric soiled through and through with warm spit and stray whimpers. you can feel the sand below you shifting in your shape as he presses your thighs into your stomach, dry towel the only thing keeping the grain and grit from scoring your skin.

you can’t remember why you ever agreed to this, to haggard breaths and stammering limbs and trembling lips on the unobscured expanse of the public beach, but apparently nagito does.

“to think you’d do this with someone like me, and outdoors at that,” he says, shuddering as he sinks his length inside you, “such an attention whore, aren’t you? a filthy cum dump who just loooves to be put on display.”

your cunt flutters and oh, you’re gripping him for all he’s worth, you must really be a special breed of irredeemable pervert, shameless in the way you chase your high. he gets there first, flooding you with his warmth as he stuffs you full, just like he promised—but really, the night’s just getting started.

𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

[fishstyx]

sloppy.

featuring. nagito komaeda x gn!reader

wc. 0.8k

genre. smut

tw. nsfw, oral, penetration, praise kink, creampie, overstimulation

synopsis. he just can’t get enough of you. even if it means overstimulating himself. even if it means cumming until you overflow.

Nagito never lasts that long in bed.

He can’t help it; the sight of your body writhing in pleasure beneath his own sweltering frame sets off fireworks inside him. And your face—he could never bring himself to take you from behind if it meant missing out on that beautiful face, twisted lewd beyond recognition under his hungered touch. He lives to see you gasp for air as he pistons his length in and out of your quivering hole, always wanting, always needing more. But he feels so bad when he lets loose inside you—filling you with his seed before you’re anywhere close to your high—that he always manages to get it up again. 

He tends to his softened member alone as he sucks your most sensitive spots with greed, lapping your juices up, taking in what you graciously give. It’s always been this way, his head bobbing along your arousal, the vibrations of his aimless humming spurring you on. You push him down by the head, seeking a higher pleasure; he welcomes the pressure with wide arms, overjoyed that you want him that way and that bad. 

Before you know it the head of his pale pink cock is up and running and rutting against you, smearing your thighs in a new coat of shiny precum, and you have to remind him of what he should really be bucking his hips into. The way you spread your pretty pink entrance for him almost brings a tear to his eye, but he knows how much you hate it when he pities himself, so he focuses all his energy on thanking you.

“Haaah, you’re so good to me,” he sighs contently as he sinks inside you, lack of stamina audible in his groggy tone. Through half lidded eyes he drinks in the bliss written in your knitted brows and parted lips as he waits for you to adjust... And then he realizes that you already have. Like maybe he’s already molded your twitching hole in the shape of his hardened cock, curve and all. The two of you go at it so often that it’s certainly plausible, and the minute chance that it’s even a possibility makes him burn with desire.

“Thank you, thank you thank you thank you,” he babbles when your walls close down on him, as if trying to milk his dick dry. He continues to hump you like you’re his favorite toy, hugging you close as if you’ll slip through his fingers if he’s not careful enough. Every time he pulls out a little, he’s mesmerized by the ring of cream that forms at the foot of his shaft. In no time flat he falls off his rhythm, too desperate and too needy to sync with you properly. 

But who’s really to blame here when you have your hands laced behind his neck as he fucks you into the mattress, pathetic attempts at his name: “Ko, Komae—nngh!,” bubbling over your lips before you have to start all over again?

“Shh, shh, let me take care of you,” he says, hoisting one leg over his shoulder, followed by the other. You gasp when you manage to take him even deeper, and he takes your hand in his when the delicious stretch has you digging into the bedsheets. “My hope, you’re taking me so well, better than anyone else ever could.” Fingers interlaced, his breathy groans harmonize with the lewd noises of your messy hole sucking him in, and the satisfying smack of his balls as they slap against your skin. 

With the brutal pace he’s going at, it’s no surprise when he cums again, milky white coating swathing your insides in warmth. Too early, too soon—but then again, this happens all the time. He keeps himself stuffed inside you as he leans down for a kiss, hungry lips chasing after yours. Trembling like a leaf, you moan into his mouth when he thumbs at your nipples, rubbing tight little circles. The two of you stay like that for a while, lost in each other’s proximity and the sharing of one breath, until he stiffens again. 

You know what they say: third time’s the charm.

With the help of his sloppy slick, Nagito sends you over the edge this time, letting you gush all over him as he fucks you through your orgasm. “K-Komaeda, it feels so good!” you cry, rewarding him with the call of his name and a clear view of your fucked-out face. Your pliant hole spasms as he continues his thrusting, rendered frictionless from all the liquid that has yet to ooze out of you.

He struggles to catch his breath as he spills inside you one last time, a panting mess even as he pulls his flushed cockhead out of you with a pop. A trail of cum leaks from your gaping hole and you can’t help but be amazed by just how much there is. It dribbles from between your legs and onto the sheets, soaking everything in its path. Nagito nuzzles into your back, arms wrapped around you, heightened heartbeat but a gentle thud against you as the entire world stills. Body melting into yours, he breathes in your scent, ignoring the dull ache in his sensitive member entirely.

“My everything,” he whispers weakly, totally and utterly enchanted. “You did amazing.”

fishstyx © 2021 ✸ all content and their rights belong to me. do not repost, reproduce, or modify anywhere.

[fishstyx]

“hopeless.”

featuring. brat!nagito komaeda x gn!reader

wc. 0.8k

genre. smut

tw. nsfw, penetration, degradation, humiliation

synopsis. when nagito can’t follow the simplest of instructions, he’s practically begging you to teach him a lesson.

Nagito Komaeda has a habit.

It’s that he can’t be good for you, can’t stay still when you tell him not to move, can’t keep his hands off of you when you’re trying to pin him down. He’s weak and effete—body laced with sickness and fatigue—but he tries anyway, play-pushing you in vain when he isn’t quite getting his way. 

Nagito Komaeda has a habit.

It’s that he whines when you don’t indulge him, that he refuses you when he’s moody, and above all, that he does the exact opposite of what you tell him to do. He just can’t help it, acting up whenever the occasion arises, and lately, it’s been all the goddamn time.

He’s doing it right now, running his mouth with sputters and moans when you told him to keep hush mere seconds ago, whimpering and wailing in retaliation as you roll your hips in teasingly slow motion. How couldn’t he make some noise, he reasons, when you asked him so nicely not to?

Nagito Komaeda has a habit.

It’s that he’s an irredeemable, petulant, all-around brat.

“You’re hopeless,” you think aloud, and his eyes go wide, mouth parted as the color rises to his face. He shifts beneath you, cocking his head as to give you a sideways glance, breathy mewls still hanging from his lips.

“Hopeless...” he repeats, as if trying it out for size, brow furrowed as he turns it over in his head. He startles when you let loose a curt chuckle, tucking stray tufts of hair behind his ear with saccharine-sweet affection. How adorable. That’s all it takes for him to spit the word out like a bad taste, “Am not,” breath hot and unwavering, but you can’t help but notice the split second where he tightens his hold on your back.

“Are too,” you insist, “such a bad boy.” And you swear you can feel him grow against your gummy walls, legs going numb as you let him bottom out inside you. You smirk when he can only manage a breathy moan in response. “I think I’ll have to punish you.”

And then you’re completely still, watching him with intent as the humor slowly disappears from his face. Needless to say, he doesn’t take it well, shifting uncomfortably in the suspense.

“N-Need you to move...” He bucks his hips gently, a plea for friction.

“I’ll move when you agree with me.” You give pause, a devious smile crossing your lips. “I’ll move when you admit it.” He bites his lip in response, peering at you through snow-colored lashes, hoping it’s a ruse. But moments pass and his cock starts to ache for need of relief, itching for some momentum, your refusal to give in slowly sinking in.

He matches your resolve, adamant in holding his ground, trying his best to take the lead and wake his shaky legs from their slumber. He holds you by the waist and slowly, gradually, starts to bounce you on his dick. But he’s unable to get himself off just right, movements jerky and uncoordinated as he shoves his length into you, lack of skill evident in the pout that flattens his lips. He attempts, unsuccessfully, to satisfy himself, but the harder he tries, the hastier he gets, awkward and fumbling.

You don’t bother holding back your laughter, amused by his show of ineptitude, how the length he was blessed with can be put to such utterly pitiful use, and he wilts under your watchful gaze. When a particularly rough thrust fails to humble you, he flusters in shame, halting full stop as he hangs his head in humiliation.

The pause he gives is treacherous.

“I’m... I’m a bad boy,” he finally whispers under his breath, unable to lift his head from its stupor.

“And?” You give pause, unsatisfied with the obvious concession, and he doubles down but a moment’s hesitation later.

“I’m a naughty, worthless little brat who d-doesn’t even know how to use his dick,” he says, strangled force behind his words, clutching the material of the bedsheets as if they were a lifeline. “I’m a slave for sex and I need to be dominated, so please...” He looks so hopeful, so expectant as he chokes out that last word that you finally relent, sinking him inside you in his entirety before riding his length at an angle that has him locked in a full-body shudder.

“Glad to see you know your place.” You smirk when he throws his head back, thoughts hazy and only half-there as you screw him mindless. He keens indecently, overcome with pleasure as you swallow him whole, a reward for his rare bout of honesty.

Nagito Komaeda has a habit.

He’s a brat through and through—it suits him, but at the end of the day, he’s your brat, and yours alone.

fishstyx © 2021 ✸ all content and their rights belong to me. do not repost, reproduce, or modify anywhere.

[fishstyx]

instant ramen pls 😓 can i get komaeda, fem bottom reader with creampie, exhibitionism, and nipple play

𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐎 + 𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐌

cw. fem!reader, nipple play, creampie, breeding kink

“think they can see you from here?” nagito whispers, like maybe the desk-bound busy-bees across the street just might be able to hear you through the floor length window panes and a hundred feet of polluted air. you only manage a whimper in response. with your forearms locked to the glass, tits flat against the cold surface—hot breath staining it opaque—you’re sure of it. the two writhing bodies on the twenty-somethingth floor of this sky-scraping hotel are being anything but discreet.

he’s pulling you back now, hands snaking from your waist and to your chest, fingers loose and flirty as they trace around your unassuming buds. he draws winding trails with skittering touches until they’re pert, twisting and flicking as he coaxes something intangible from you. it comes out a whisper, then a whimper, then a cry, until you’re clenching your thighs together—strange, muffled noises escaping the crook of your elbow. it’s ten in the goddamn morning after all, and even if the white-collar typists can’t hear you from across the pavement, your next door neighbors surely can.

too bad you’re squeezing him so well.

you’re too hopped up on electricity to even notice when he slows the buck of his hips, when he grunts a final time. your legs shake from both the stimulation and exhaustion of it all, and oh, something’s dribbling out from your sopping wet cunt and onto your thighs, and oh, you really hope you get pregnant this time.

𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

[fishstyx]

Instant Ramen, I guess. Can I get Despair Nagito, Fem bottom reader with Dub Con,spanking, and overstim?

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑!𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐎 + 𝐃𝐔𝐁𝐂𝐎𝐍

cw. fem!reader, spanking, overstimulation

“ahh, this won’t do at all…”

you nearly miss his breathy voice, in all its strained fragility, as his bony fingers detangle themselves from your hips. you hate how unaffected he sounds, like you aren’t laying limp and motionless, head planted into the mattress, choked noises seizing up in your throat because it’s too deep and it’s too much.

“…i miss the cute little noises my favorite plaything makes.”

normally, that would get your stomach swarming with butterflies. normally, that would have your stuffed cunt twitching with desire. but it doesn’t, your tummy swimming in hurt, your walls swollen to their absolute limit, the pain you’re in more than you ever bargained for.

you don’t even notice when he raises his hand.

the sudden impact prompts a sharp crack and a strangled yelp—yours—to do battle with the strange, lewd sounds of your pussy sucking nagito in as he continues to double back out.

it burns, stinging even as he winds his arm back, warmth rushing to the fat of your ass when he strikes down, again and again, your lungs exhausting themselves at his sadistic command.

it’s like music to his ears, the cacophony of indecent noises, and he can’t help but laugh knowing that it’s all of his own orchestration. with clouded eyes he lands another blow, a duller thud that throbs down to your very bone; but all that registers is that feathery snigger, a sign he’s nowhere near done with you.

𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

[fishstyx]

A Hajime one? Was it the body slapping, and edging one? It may have been mine.

𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄 + 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆

cw. gn!reader, impact play

hinata hajime is certain you’re the absolute worst thing that’s ever happened to him. for someone who tends to be so serious and so frank all of the time, he’s easily flustered when it comes to all things you. whatever indescribable quality it is—whether it’s the lilt to your voice when you’re teasing him, or the mischief in your smile when you lean in to steal a kiss—it drives him right out of his goddamn mind and you know it.

that’s why he’s so desperate to take control in the bedroom, so willing to steal away the reins in hopes of catching you off guard and unawares. that’s why it’s so infuriating when you seem to sincerely like it, the feeling that your needy gasps and drowsy sputters inspire something he can only describe as fleeting annoyance.

and then it dawns on him, right at the moment when your toes curl and your breath hitches. you’re rutting your hips into his in an attempt to get off, and he’s sliding himself out when he realizes you’re close, cruel smile tugging at the corner of his lips as you whimper for lack of stimulation.

he likes you better this way.

oh, he’s certain you’re better this way when your lips puff up in a pout, petulant whines bubbling from your throat when he does nothing to abate your acts of protest.

you’ve been robbed of your fluttery feeling, flooded with hypersensitive need as he drags his cock along the edge of your poor, deprived entrance.

“hajime, i was almost there…”

the words tumble out with less composure than you would’ve liked, tone equal parts hurt and disappointment and distress. but he only tuts at your objections, hand coming to caress your cheek as he speaks.

“you only get to cum when i say you can.”

and you’re right where he wants you when he smacks you across the face, the sound like a ricochet as it resounds across the bedroom walls, and it’s almost reward enough for all the torment you’ve put him through—but not quite.

no, he isn’t satisfied until he’s marked you up all across your body, stinging pain down your chest and up your thighs, the rush of adrenaline it stimulates just the extra push you needed to find your release. it fills him with such amusement and mirth when you cream not from his cock but from his authority and discipline. soon enough he’s spilling himself inside you, sucking his breath in as he notices you struggling to catch yours. he pounds you with renewed fervor and thinks to himself that he won’t let you get the chance to.

𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

[fishstyx]

“put the maid outfit on.”

featuring. sub!nagito komaeda x fem!reader

wc. 2.2k

genre. smut

tw. nsfw, penetration (pegging), orgasm denial/edging, praise kink, mild (mild!) toxic masculinity

synopsis. peg nagito 2021 + everyone’s favorite e-boy trend.

“You really think I look good in this..?” 

Your jaw slackens as Nagito materializes in the doorway, fingers fiddling with the hem of his skirt. His shoulders hunch over and his legs bend at the knee, but if he’s trying to make himself smaller, it does little to obscure your view. The costume fits him so well, corset detailing and silk satin bows lining his midriff, white ruffle trim splayed out against his wrists and thighs. Flouncy frills flare from his shoulders, jet puffed sleeves rounding out his sharper edges and broader sides. A pink flush creeps across his cheeks when you fail to respond, teeth locking his bottom lip in place like he’s trying to keep himself from saying anything more.

“I think you look great in it!” 

You clasp your hands together in an attempt to ward off your trance and he cracks a smile in spite of himself, relief washing over his features—but your next words have him standing stick straight. “It makes me feel like I should dress you up more often.” 

Suddenly his brows are threaded with vexation, Mary Janes clacking across the floorboards as he makes his way towards you.

“Please don’t joke about that. Even I take some pride in my manhood,” he pouts, somewhat unconvincingly. “But as long as you’re holding to your end of the deal—“

“And whatever deal could you be talking about?” you ask ever so sweetly, lashes batting away all too knowingly. He stiffens at your feigned ignorance, legs knocking together when you tilt your head pointedly. 

“...You know what deal.” 

Nagito averts his gaze, though unable to escape your own, hands clutching at the lacy material as he sucks in a sharp breath. “The deal we made… where I put this outfit on…” You wait patiently, silent stare urging him to finish the sentence.  “...and you pound my unworthy hole into oblivion.”

“Oh? And what exactly am I going to pound you with?”

However fake your play-pretend innocence, the curiosity in your eyes is very much real, blazing with the vehement desire to hear him say it aloud. The remaining shred of his so-called dignity is slashed to pieces, the hopefulness in your voice too compelling to defy.

“My favorite toy. Please, mess me up with it.” Nagito eyes you nervously, expecting rejection or derision or snide, heart fluttering when he gets only an warm smile in return. “The dildo that I can’t live without. I want it—I need it so bad it hurts,” he continues in a near whisper, but it’s good enough for you. You pull him in immediately, your chin nestling itself in the crook of his neck as your lips come to rest at the shell of his ear.

“Such a good boy, using your words so properly.” He shudders against you as you trace the fabric where it lies snug against his waist, mesmerized by the words of encouragement that spill from your lips. 

“I’m gonna make you see stars.”

Nagito practically bursts with anticipation as you snake your fingers up his skirt, unmoving from the spot where you pushed him onto the bed. With bated breath he lets you kiss up his inner thighs—lets you because normally he wants to do all the work, wants to be your little joyride fuck toy, wants you squirming under his touch. It’s all he can do just to watch, cock already twitching from how good it feels, how utterly starved he’s been of hands besides his own between his legs.

You push at his thighs, pressing them far apart for easy access, chaste kisses becoming damp squeezes as you traverse up the length. A silent smirk tugs at your lips as he throws his head back, the tent beneath his apron growing taller by the second. You palm it instinctively, rubbing circles through the fabric and inviting blood to his sensitive member.

But it’s more of a distraction than anything else, your other hand uncapping the bottle of lube with skill, lathering itself up with ease. Nagito pays it no mind, instead drinking in how you fondle him with eerie similarity to the most despicable of his favorite fantasies. So when a lone finger begins to circle at his entrance, he reels with an unexpected jolt, back arched like a cat. You waste no time in sinking a digit inside, sinful groans following one after another.

And then you’re pumping him with two fingers, swirling them in tandem and scissoring them apart a knuckle deep, then another. He’s biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, fighting the maddening urge to move on his own, to just take the reins and ram you inside of him. He’s already coursing with the need for something more substantial, and it’s obvious that he’s ready to take additional girth.

“Used to me already?” you ask, more statement than question. Nagito hesitates before nodding, sheepishness written into the slow bob of his head. “You’ve been playing with this lonely hole behind my back, haven’t you?” But he can’t bring himself to confirm or deny it, the way he peers back at you answer enough.

You reach for the harness in turn, untangling the heaps of straps right before him, his dildo of choice following soon after. You snap the towering thing into place with a satisfying click, swaying your hips as you guide the thigh straps to their final resting place. The fit is snug, belt of the strap just about digging into your flesh—but not quite—and you turn your back to add the finishing touches.

You’re dripping with lube when you face him again, glossy slick accentuating every vein, every bulge that graces your makeshift cock. You chuckle at the way his legs are spread already, the way he’s waiting on you with a look that says take me now, hold me down and fuck me silly.

But he’s ahead of himself as usual, and it’s inevitable that he chokes back a whimper when you disappear inside of him. He gives the prospect of pain no heed, silently pleading for you to move, and you click your tongue in distaste.

“Breathe,” you command, waiting for him to loosen. Green eyes shift expectantly from the strap-on to your own, an exasperated whine starting to form at his lips, but he knows his place and does as you say.

Nagito complies with the rise and fall of his chest, evidenced by the soft sway of a centerpiece bow. His muscles begin to relax even as you’re splitting him in two, and you angle your hips up in preparation. The tip of your silicone cock has barely brushed against his sensitive gland, yet it already has him quivering, hungry for more.

It’s in the middle of a deep breath when you finally deem him ready, doubling back before bucking into that same spot that has his jaw dropping and his eyes squeezing shut. A shaky exhale stutters from his wide-open mouth and he melts into a panting mess as you find your pace.

“Good boy. Such a good boy, making all that noise for me,” you repeat, chant-like words a melody to his ears.

“Y-you really think so?” he struggles to get out, little mewls escaping him even as he speaks. “Even when I’m… being so… selfish?”

“Shh, don’t say things like that. I feel it too, baby boy,” you’re quick to say—and you’re not lying, far from it in fact. The hilt of the dildo rocks against your clit each time your hips meet, the pulsating pressure tempting you to plunge even deeper. And with the face that he’s making, all reddened cheeks and parted lips, how could you not?

You’re snapping into him now, reveling in the challenge posed by the sheer length of his choice toy. It’s hard work with the way he clamps around you, but the tingle it shoots up your spine and the squelch it sends to your ears are well worth the effort. The marvelous stretch draws a throaty “f-fuuuuck” out of him, the god-sent sensation making him throb all the more.

But with every plunge you take, you’re met with the bounce of his pretty pink cockhead, a rebounding reminder of what you’ve left unattended. His neglected shaft looms in stark contrast to his black and white garb, breath hitching when you finally decide to wrap around it. Your movements are painfully slow to begin with, building up the pressure before picking up in speed, and he keens his dissatisfaction until you’re jerking him off to the same brutal rhythm of your rolling hips.

“I think I’m gonna cum,” he cries, locks of hair cascading past his pleated headband as you press into a spot so sweet he thinks he just might come undone; but you have other plans in mind. Your movements slow before coming to a lurching halt, the absence of stimulation quick to dampen the mood.

“Good boys cum when they’re told to,” you say, but the explanation does little to appease him. A look of disappointment leaps to his face, his lips pursed in dismay—or perhaps it’s betrayal.

He looks so disheveled like this, staring at your open palm like maybe his wordless begging can coax you back into stroking him. Hazy eyes glaze over, tufts of hair spilling every which way as he sits himself up, but you aren’t done with him yet.

It’s simple to redirect his movement, his weak limbs no match for your own as you turn him over so he’s kneeling on the bed. He tries to look back but you push him down by the neck, hiking his skirt up as you position yourself behind him. His ass is raised in the air without so much as being told, and you align with his fluttering hole before breaking him in again.

You were right to make him wait; he’s shaking in excitement now, tense with amplified arousal as his knees buckle underneath you. Bottoming out is so much easier like this, your pistons devoured whole and spat back out with each and every thrust. You draw back slowly only to bury yourself once more, repeating the motion until his moaning runs incoherent, completely wracked with shivering pleasure. You can’t tell if he’s humping the mattress, grinding against you, or both, but he’s reaching his climax again and the both of you know it.

“Can I finish now? Pretty please?” Nagito asks, so strained and so breathily that you nearly miss it. “Please, it hurts so good, please please please, I’m head over heels for your cock!”

The thought of stopping again is too cruel for you to give even a moment’s consideration, so you pin his wrist against his back and collect a fistful of hair in your hand before leaning in to award him with the magic words:

“Go ahead, then. Cum for me.”

You slam into him as he rides through the peak of his bliss, squirming in wretched ecstasy as he collapses under his own weight. You can only imagine what kind of expression he’s making with his head face-first in the bedsheets, the kinds of shapes his mouth is forming when you pull his hair back like this. Violent spasms render Nagito otherwise immobile, unable to move of his own accord. He’s going completely slack, quivers shorting until you wonder if he passed out from the aftershock.

It comes as a surprise when you notice him barely holding on, eyelids threatening to shut close when you pull him into your arms. He looks like a cheap whore in that kitschy uniform of his, thick white cum smeared all over the black fabric. Beads of drool streak his chin but he’s too fucked-out to notice, let alone care.

“You did so well for me,” you whisper as Nagito nuzzles into your chest, drowsy and spent. I don’t deserve this at all, he thinks, a dull echo reverberating in the back of his mind.

“I’m so proud of you,” you coo as you stroke his cheek with your thumb. Proud of what? My greediness? My utter uselessness?

But he’s too exhausted to fight your praises, self-doubt dwindling away to nothing as you hum your approval. He snuggles against your palm without even realizing it, subconscious of his mind chasing after contact with your bare skin. In his docile state, you can’t help but to hold him close, intimate proximity sating the needs of which he’s too adamant to admit aloud.

But all good things must come to an end, and eventually, your adrenaline dies down, too. You feel as though you’re a husk of yourself, curling up beside him and letting the fatigue tide you over. As much as you’d love to watch your symbol of hope fall asleep, your eyelids feel so, so heavy now, and you expend the last of your energy on little kitten kisses that trail up his temple and dot down his nose. Your collective consciousness fades away until all that’s left is the syncing of your breath, a singular flow of air where you lay wrapped around one another.

He’ll never admit just how good it felt to be pampered this way, but you’ll never regret taking care of him.

fishstyx © 2021 ✸ all content and their rights belong to me. do not repost, reproduce, or modify anywhere.

[fishstyx]

russian roulette.

featuring. nagito komaeda x fem!reader

wc. 2.0k

genre. smut, dark/taboo

tw. 18+ nsfw, noncon, penetration, gunplay, degradation/humiliation

synopsis. nagito follows you into the final dead room and shows you the proper way to play russian roulette. drv2 spoilers/context (chapter 4) ahead.

“And just what do you think you’re doing here?” Nagito says from behind you, his sudden utterance booming off the solid concrete surroundings. An uncharacteristic disgust drips from his every word, drawn out so painfully slowly that you’re convinced he thinks you a mere toddler.

“Playing the Life-Threatening Game,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible, but he’s caught you unawares. You startle even as you speak, the shudder of your body undoubtedly making its way into your voice. You’re sure that the door had locked behind you, so just how did he manage to slip in while the game was still in progress? Not to mention that the person in front of you doesn’t truly seem like Nagito Komaeda. Sure, he’s always had his quirks, but right now it feels like you’re talking to… somebody else.

“With only one bullet?” is Nagito’s only response as he creeps toward you, frown deepening when you back away, gun clutched to your chest. 

“And what about it?” You do your best to plaster on a brave face, but your arm hits the wall behind you and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how small, how suffocating the Final Dead Room is with another person in it. He lets out a heavy sigh as he corners you, box of bullets in hand. The clatter of metal rings in your ears when he presses you into the blood-stained walls, leaning into your ear to whisper:

“That’s not nearly enough.” He fishes the revolver from your shaky hand with ease, the clinking of extra bullets following soon after. “Even someone like you understands, don’t you?” He loads round after round into the gun, pressing bullets into each chamber until they’re flush against the cylinder surface, and it’s all you can do just to watch. “That the payout of this game rests upon the difficulty you set it to.” 

On top of you still, he picks the sixth bullet up and waves it in your face, almost mockingly. “It’s safe to assume that the killer, a coward among cowards, played it safe and loaded a single bullet same as you did. And as for me—well, I’ve already cleared the highest level.” Sliding the final bullet in with a click, he pushes the cylinder back into the gun frame with marked familiarity. “At least, I thought it was the highest level.” 

“H...huh? Highest level?” you wonder as loud as you dare, earning a scoff from Nagito. 

“And here I was thinking you could follow along with a simple explanation. How short-sighted of me. Well, you can save your questions for later.” Smirking at the sight of your mouth agape, he spins the cylinder before you can interrupt again. “As I was saying, I only thought I was playing at the highest level. But thinking back on it now...” His face draws close to yours, hot breath tickling your skin as he rests the muzzle flat against your quivering lips. “Wouldn’t it be something if you survived this?”

Holy shit.

You struggle under Nagito’s weight, legs going weak under the looming threat of death. How did you let this happen? One wrong move and you’d be nothing but an addition to the bloodstains behind you. “T-This isn’t funny, Nagito.” Your lips tremble around the revolver, heavy and icy to the touch, when it doesn’t budge an inch. 

“What I’m trying to say,” he continues, unfazed, “is that your efforts will be pointless if you don’t go all out here. We’ll learn nothing new if I let you play the way you want to.” You hear the words, and yet you can’t make sense of them. Not when the classmate before you holds your very life in his hand.

“Nagito, please—” you say more forcefully, heart pounding all the while.

“Please what?”

“P-Please put the gun down.” But one look at his face and you know he’s not having it.

“Oh, so you’re not going to pull the trigger? Even if I do it with you?” Sheer disappointment crosses Nagito’s features as he deliberates, armed hand never so much as faltering. He studies your face in silence, the break from his ranting more eerie than comforting. The temperature of the room drops several degrees when he finally speaks again. 

“Oh, I know.” He lowers the gun only to drag it down your neck and along your chest, drawing wide circles around your buds. “Hopeless halfwits like you need a little incentive, don’t you think?”

“That’s not what I—” 

You’re cut off by your own sharp inhale as the gun presses into your abdomen, tracing the outline of your thighs and traveling even lower still. It runs up and down that sensitive spot between your legs, poking and prodding near your deepest nooks and crannies, testing for a reaction. And he eventually gets one, a soft groan tumbling past your lips when he grinds the muzzle against your clit—and although clothed, it sends waves of electricity straight to your core. 

“You were saying?” Nagito laughs when you fail to respond, mortified by your own body’s betrayal. It’s as if you’re frozen in time. Your heart practically leaps out your chest and your eyes, wide as saucers, flicker from the gun to Nagito, Nagito to the gun, and back again. It feels like an entire lifetime passes you by when he continues to brush against the sensitive nub, chasing after another reaction, but you’re paralyzed now. You watch in slow motion as he grows impatient, fingers dipping below your waistband, pulling your panties down just far enough for the tip of the barrel to kiss your bare cunt. 

Move. Move. Move, you tell yourself. Your head throbs and your fingers twitch. He can’t kill you, not in the middle of an investigation. Not when another student was just murdered. Not unless... 

You search Nagito’s cat-like eyes for some glimmer of humanity, a silent plea, a probe into the void itself—one that leaves you with more questions than answers.

Not unless he’s the killer himself.

With the wicked smile he’s sporting, much too twisted and much too wide, you don’t doubt it for a second. But he gives you no time for critical thought, instead plunging the gun deep inside your pulsating pussy, not a moment spared to prep you.

Your back arches instinctively; you weren’t ready for this, not in a million years would you ever be ready for a pistol to slide inside you, such a cold and stiff thing spreading your walls without so much as a warning. It’s so far up that the trigger guard presses into your clit, bundle of nerves puffy and swollen from all the stimulation. A searing sensation emanates from between your thighs and you can’t help but let out a little yelp.

“N-Nagito! Wait...” you try again, a pathetic mewl more than anything else, but it doesn’t seem to register. His expression is unreadable as he inches the gun out little by little, sliding your pants down to get a better view. And then he pauses when the muzzle surfaces from your entrance.

That’s when you see it. The gun’s barrel, glistening with arousal, glistering in liquid coating, and he just holds it there as if to say, would you look at that—you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

“You know, it’s hard to understand you when you mumble.” You choke up when he suddenly jams the gun back in, stroking—no, pounding your gummy insides with fevered delight, your slimy slick squelching below you, pit of your stomach unraveling as the metal warms itself up with the heat of your core. 

A shameless whimper escapes you when he keeps up the pace, dynamic movement burying the pain in pleasure, your mind swirling with delirity. This shouldn’t feel good. And when you stop to think about it, it really doesn’t. Your walls are raw, sensitive, and throbbing, but some primal part of you is overflowing with desire, getting off on the thrill. 

Because every time the rigid ridges of the barrel burrow into you, the knot in your stomach tightens, threatening to cut loose. The gun bottoms out inside you over and over again, relentless in its constant push and pull. It forces your body into submission, coaxing it into something limp, ragdoll, and unrecognizable because the stimulation is just that overwhelming. Your knees begin to give out; it’s too much, the way your tight heat flutters around the pistol, his pistol, juices soaking your clothes and dripping out onto the floor. 

“Nng-Nagito, please stop, I-I can’t—” You struggle to find the right words, stuttering incomprehensibly.

“Hmm, can’t go on? Would you rather be doing... something else?” He cocks the hammer to remind you of your place and you shake your head vigorously, trying desperately not to think about the possibility of death, as well as the ache that grows ever stronger in your core.

“How utterly disgusting. So you admit you actually want this,” he practically spits, your pathetic pussy pulsing in response. 

That’s not true. 

“With a body like this, are you sure your talent isn’t the Ultimate Slut?” 

It really isn’t, you think. But something about his tone of voice makes you clench even tighter around the gun’s barrel, senses punctuated by his ceaseless pumping into that one spongy spot that has you curling your toes. Saltwater threatens to spill over your eyes when he points it out: “I can’t believe it, you’re basically sucking it in. Dirty fucking whore, making my job harder for me.” 

Your cheeks heat up in shame, thighs shifting wider when he nudges them apart, holding them right where he wants you. You squeak when he plunges the gun impossibly deeper, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you realize you’re about to come undone.

The world shudders when you cum on and over the pistol, the overflow drenching Nagito’s hand. A lewd moan like no other resonates throughout the room—and then you realize that it’s yours, that it’s you who’s moaning, you who’s seeing stars while creaming all over a loaded gun. The tears are painting your cheeks now, exquisite sting doing little to comfort you. His hand stills and you collapse to the floor, exhausted from reaching your high, gun still nestled deep inside you.

Sighing in defeat, Nagito crouches beside you, eyeing you like one would a wriggling maggot. You can’t even begin to imagine what you look like, arms and legs splayed out in haphazard angles, eyes glazed over, your mouth wide open as you pant like a bitch in heat. He taps the side of the gun with a sole fingernail.

“Go on, then. Take it out.”

It takes the last of your energy to swing your arm over, hand clenching the grip of the gun in slothful momentum. It’s hard to think straight. It’s hard to think about anything at all besides your sluggish relief. 

Finally. It’s finally over. The lingering effects of your orgasm die out as you’re left with nothing but the violating weapon stuck up your abused hole. It’s all you can do just to tug on it.

But as soon as you start to pull on it, Nagito grabs ahold, his grip much stronger than your own. Everything in its place, exactly how he wanted it. His smile is torturous, haunting.

“Got you.” He guides, or rather forces, your index finger to its rightful place on the trigger, and you do little to struggle.

“No, no more—” Your voice comes out a meek rasp, labored breath falling upon deaf ears.

“Bang,” he says unceremoniously, pressing your finger into the trigger.

“Say, Nagito, tell me something.” Monokuma turned his gaze from the pitiful sight of your passed out form, left to soak in your own juices on the cold hard ground. “You didn’t happen to rig the game, now, did you?”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Monokuma,” Nagito said as he snatched the prize from the duocolor teddy bear, a hefty file embossed in gold letters that read, clear as day: Makoto Naegi. A knowing smile crept to his lips as he pawed through its contents. 

“The gun jammed, fair and square.”

fishstyx © 2021 ✸ all content and their rights belong to me. do not repost, reproduce, or modify anywhere.

[fishstyx]

𝖉𝖗.

➥ fics.

nagito komaeda.

hopeless. ✸ 0.8k words

when nagito can’t follow the simplest of instructions, he’s practically begging you to teach him a lesson.

“put the maid outfit on.” ✸ 2.2k words

peg nagito 2021 + everyone’s favorite e-boy trend.

sloppy. ✸ 0.8k words

he just can’t get enough of you. even if it means overstimulating himself. even if it means cumming until you overflow.

russian roulette. ✸ 2.0k words

nagito follows you into the final dead room and shows you the proper way to play russian roulette.

➥ drabbles.

𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀 𝐇.

𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐎 𝐊.

[fishstyx]

LOL this is so stupid but i want kokichi to edge and degrade me while humiliating me in front of d.i.c.e </3

awwh, i’m embarrassed for u luv. you want him to call you his good-for-nothing lil cocksleeve as he manhandles you in front of all his subordinates? want him to pull out when you think you’re about to cum, telling you to beg for his dick like the pathetic cock-hungry slut that you are? yeah... he’d want that too.

[fishstyx]

LOLLL i'd let him manipulate me and clal me a dirty whore. GODDAMN fish now the brainrot is eating me again grrrr.... /nm /pos - [kokichi's slut]

“you want me to call you a dirty whore?” kokichi echoes, clearly unamused. he closes what little distance there is to separate you, hot breath tickling your ear as you flinch by instinct. “how utterly unimaginative.” his lips graze your skin as his voice drops unimaginably lower, a dangerous decibel you’ve never been privy to before.

“but that’s all i can expect from a cock-hungry cumdump, isn’t it?”

[fishstyx]

kokicihii oumaamnnhtjttntbgfmmm

i'm losing my sanity why is he in my head all the damn time please why can't he just spit in my mouth and call me his good little slut and then put a fucking leash on me goddamn i j jmemwmwndmwm... IM SORRY .... I HAVE NOWHERE TO PUT THIS STUFF.. - [kokichi's slut]

awwh you’re always welcome here luv!! hehe i’m always on some subby bullshit so it’s never a bother. mmgnf spit though.. he loves to wrap his hands around your throat and tell u to open your mouth, that he has a present for u so u better open wide. he misses a little on purpose, just so he can watch his drool dribble down your chin.. ahaha.. he thinks u look the prettiest like that 💗💗