#I’m getting worried about the moves twitch is making right now

[bellesdreamyprofile]

benny & y/n : the wedding (part 7)

It was a sunny Wednesday morning. Kind of early for Benny and definitely way too early for Johnny and the entirety of the group. Tired faces and hands covering their mouths from impolite yawning, eyes glancing at the ticking clock. Sighs filled the cool air as the guests gave each other knowing looks.

Kathy stormed into the garden, her breaths not in synch. “Any moment, you guys.”, she announced and marched back into your house.

Johnny shook his head and elbowed Benny. “Think she changed her mind?”, his tone was teasing, but the blonde man actually considered his words. What if you had changed your mind?

“I’m even wearing my nice jacket.”, Cal commented, showing off his outfit - no sight of stitches or grease. 

Corky rolled his eyes at him and raised an eyebrow at him. “Only the lord knows what would’ve happened if you weren’t wearing your nice jacket.”, their bickering went back and forth, a nice distraction from Benny’s stormy mind. 

His lips twitched at the sight of his friends invested in a minor issue. Benny closed his eyes for a moment and let out a low breath, his hands in front of him, desperately trying to disguise his queasiness.

Johnny nudged his side once again, this time keeping the snarky remarks to himself. “Don’t you worry, kid. She’ll be out any minute. You know how ladies are. Taking their sweet time with makeup and shoes and—“

Muffins.

“Sorry! These took forever to bake!”, your sweet voice was the only thing he could make out as well as the incredible sweet smell of the muffins. Benny’s eyes finally moved on you, his heartbeat increasing by the second. A knee-length, white dress adorned your body and long, bouncy curls framed your face. He predicted a little pink lipstick on your lips - you had the tray in your hands and the muffin tower covered your face.

The guys moved forward to grab one of the sweets, but Kathy swatted them away with a glare. “Help her set the tray on the table, you moron.”, their gazes immediately lowered in embarrassment as a few others laughed along. The tray was safely set on the table and you were able to finally breathe out in satisfaction.

With your hands on your hips, you admired your creation as a smile graced your lips. A tapping on your shoulder made you flinch a little. You turned your head to the side and caught a glimpse of Kathy.

“Hey crazy.”, she smiled a little and you automatically reciprocated.

“It turned out well, didn’t it?”, you asked, your words sounding dreamy. Kathy laughed and threw a glance at Benny who was nervously looking your way.

“Y/N, you know you’re about to get married, right? And that your future husband is a mess of nerves and anxiety over there?”

Your smile dropped at Kathy’s words and your eyes immediately shifted on Benny, whose own gaze moved away from you.

“Oh crap, I almost forgot.”, you hastily looked around for your flower bouquet, another wave of laughter escaping Kathy. She eyed the flowers on the table and handed them to you.

“You ready to do this?”, Kathy’s tone was comforting as she wrapped her arm around your body. You let out a deep breath and nodded, your gaze darting on Benny, who was now talking to Johnny.

“Yeah, I am.”, a shaky smile appeared on your lips at the giddy thought of soon becoming Mrs Cross. I’m gonna marry that man. My forever person.

“Who’s gonna walk you down the aisle?”, Kathy’s observation made you blink quickly and your lips part. You were at loss of words. Nothing about the union of you and Benny was traditional - no floor length dress, no wedding cake, no tuxedos and nobody to walk you down the aisle.

“I don’t have a family anymore, Kathy.”, your words were slow, but they held no remorse or sorrow. You had accepted that fact a long time ago. For you did have a family, but moving from your hometown felt like a slap in their face.

Kathy’s gaze softened at your tone, but she had an idea. She looked at Johnny from over her shoulder and then wrapped an arm around you. “Let’s give the bride a proper entrance, yeah?”, you could only offer here a confused look as you were led back to your house.

“She’s going back inside again.”, Benny noted, his eyes fixated on you. “Why is she going back to the house again?”

Johnny didn’t know what was happening either so there was no concrete way to comfort his friend. “She brought the cake, kid. Now the homemade buffet for the guests?”, he tried to joke a little and as he was about to add another comment, he made eye contact with Kathy. She curled her finger at him, indicating him to follow her.

His brows shot to his forehead in confusion, but he reluctantly followed her instructions. Benny looked at him in question - not only did his bride leave him, but his best man was making a run for it too.

“Gotta help bring the food to the table, kid. I’ll be back.”, Benny simply nodded at the distraught tone his friend used. He shook his head as second thoughts started clouding his mind and looked down.

“Just so you know, Benny is losing his mind over there.”, were Johnny’s first words to Kathy. The bride nowhere in sight. “What the hell is going on? Tell me she ain’t thinking of running away.”

Kathy shook her head. “Y/N doesn’t have nobody to walk her down the aisle.”, Johnny’s foot stopped tapping as the reality of the situation settled in.

He nodded, looking down. “So… Me? She’d want me to walk her down the aisle?”

The woman nodded. “Well, that was my suggestion anyways. You ask her first.”

His eyes widened. “You want me to ask her? You’re outta your mind.”, he said hastily. “Besides… What if she says no?”, Kathy fought back a smile at his insecurity and then shook her head.

“She thinks the world of you, Johnny, trust me.”, Kathy promised with a reassuring smile. “She already said yes on marrying Benny - I think you’re in the clear.”

Johnny spared her another glance and rubbed his cheek. Ever since you were admitted home from the hospital, Benny had been extra caring and (don’t tell Benny) even embraced the softer, more sensitive side of himself. Johnny liked that. He was glad you were there for his friend, and getting to know you on a more personal level, he was glad you were in his life too.

“Hey kid.”, you glanced over your shoulder at the familiar voice.

“Hi Johnny.”, you mumbled, fiddling with the lace of your dress. “I think Benny is waiting for you out there.”

But the man smiled a little and simply offered you his arm. “How about you and I take a little walk?”

You looked up, your lips parting in surprise. “Really?”

Johnny laughed. “Really.”, he confirmed. “Though we have to get going. Not only is my hair turning grey, but your future husband’s might too if we keep stalling.”

You let out a chuckle and secretly imagined your Benny with strands of grey here and there. You couldn’t wait to see that. So you took Johnny’s arm and smiled widely at him.

The door opened again, earning a reaction from Benny, who was soon going to be made a saint for waiting as patiently as he did. But oh, it was worth it. You in that pretty dress and tears in your eyes as you were walking towards him.

Johnny winked at the groom and almost jealously tightened his arm around your hand. The guys were staring in awe, almost unable to believe it was finally happening - and that Johnny was the one chosen to walk you down the aisle.

Once you were standing in front of Benny, Johnny took you by surprise by kissing your forehead in a loving way. “Go get him, kid.”, he mumbled in your ear and shot you a smile, moving to stand as Benny’s best man.

You were only able to smile as you shook your head a little. Benny grasped your hands and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Hey baby.”, he said quietly, making you look up. You smiled and bit your lip at his words.

“Hi.”, you mumbled with a big smile. Danny had already started with the officiation, but you couldn’t pay attention to what he was saying — too many thoughts were crossing your mind. And noticing Benny’s blues so focused on yours, you predicted that he wasn’t listening to what Danny had to say either.

Every now and then, you felt the familiar squeeze from his touch, almost reminding you that all of this was real and that you were really doing this.

“— do you Benjamin Cross take Y/N Y/L/S to be your lawfully wedded wife?”, Benny’s eyes never left yours as his lips parted to let go of the long-awaited answer.

“I do.”

A squeal died in your throat as the giddiness took over you now. You just couldn’t wait.

“And now, do you Y/N Y/L/N take Benjamin Cross to be your lawfully wedded—“

“I do!”

Laughter was heard from the few guests, Kathy covered her mouth as a chuckle escaped her lips as well. Danny shook his head with a smile.

“I now pronounce that you are husband and wife. You may kiss—“

Benny couldn’t wait any longer and pulled you closer to him, his hands leaving yours to grasp your cheeks as he finally kissed you.

They lived happily ever after.

THE END.

A/N: oh, what a ride! I'm so happy about this chapter & the ending of the little series. as always, let me know what you thought and if you have any ideas of what I could be writing next, please comment 💋

bless you for taking your time to read this 🤍

MASTERLIST

Taglist: @leonesimp @cwallace02sblog @alexa4040 @notaceventura @wonderland2425 @thefastclownprince @ughdontbeboring

[skygenders]

Like as a jewish person I have really appreciated Hasan Piker’s coverage of Palestine. He is one of the few online spaces I trust that I’m not gonna get antisemitism shoved down my throat. So it’s upsetting to see people attempt to deplatform him for antisemitism because he’s against the genocide

[gojosprettyprincess]

TOJI N MEGUMI’S SWEET GIRLFRIEND!!!

Cheating, breeding kink, forbidden relationship. Megumi is 20 n reader is a bit older, Brief Toji x reader. Not proofread

★彡

Imagine Megumi walking around the house shirtless, exposing every inch of his skin from his hips up, His smooth skin glistening under the warn-toned light as he walked into the kitchen for a snack but then Toji spots the fresh series of red, angry lines scattered across his upper back. He’s not dumb, he’s a grown man in his early 40s, he’s basically an expert at that shit considering the fact that he has them too. He knows exactly what it is and what caused it.

He starts teasing Megumi about it, about how his boring, grumpy ass is actually getting some pussy—not knowing that the pussy he’s getting is his sweet little girlfriend’s while he’s away on missions, absolutely oblivious to what happens between his son and girlfriend while he’s not there. The harsh markings from your sharp manicured nails mauling his son’s toned back as he fucked your slutty brains out and digs his cock deep into your insides while giving you one of the best dicking of your life, right on top of you and Toji’s bed.

–––

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend of his that wakes up at 5am sharp to make breakfast and see him off to his 3-day mission just to have his son’s throbbing hard dick nestled deep into your greedy cunt—stuffing you full to the brim while his tip nudges against the deepest part of your pussy just a few hours later.

Megumi was three years younger than you, never had a girlfriend before and you felt bad for the poor boy and was soo tired and annoyed of having to keep buying new panties since the old ones were used to wrap around his preverted cock to jerk off, staining it with his seed instead of doing you and his father’s laundry so you had to find a way to deal with it…

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend he calls every evening while he's away to make sure you’re alright and if you’ve eaten dinner, not knowing that his son is eating dinner right now—behind you, on this knees as his rough hands spreads your soft cheeks apart, nose pressed deep into your creamy folds while he sucks on your twitching little clit with fervor and intensity, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

Your juices drips down his chin disgustingly as he devours you like a homeless man eating his favorite meal for the first time in years, groaning vibrantly against your twitching core as he tastes your sweet pussy—desperately lapping up every bit of pussy juice he can suck out of you, making you audibly stutter but Toji doesn’t question it, maybe you’re just tired and miss him too much or something. You bit your lips, moving a hand down to push Megumi’s eager face further into your horny pussy as you teasingly wiggled your cheeks in his face. Your eyes roll back when you felt Megumi’s sly tongue dragging flat against your asshole, licking a long stripe at the fluttery hole before attempting to pry it open with the tip of his tongue, “Mmm, don’t worry baby I’m fine—just have a sore throat that’s all” you reassumed your older boyfriend on the other end, reasoning why you’re making odd noises.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend he calls Megumi for—to check up and make sure you’re safe and okay. After all, while Toji is away, Megumi is the man of the house, not knowing that you’re on your knees as they speak, both hands digging into his muscular legs for stability as he fucks his thick cock deep into your skull, his leaking tip oozing with pre-cum, dripping at the back of your throat as you look up at him with pleading eyes as your mascara mixed with tears drips down your pretty face while he just smiles down at you darkly—reassuring Toji that his girlfriend is well taken care of.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend who he promises to breed, babbling about how much he wants to give Megumi a sibling and watch your belly swell with his kid as he’s pounding you deep and hard in full Nelson, his huge tip nudging against your bruised cervix, brutally splitting apart your cunt while whispering into your ear. “Hah—fuckkk doll, your tight pussy is swallowing my dick so good, fuckk imagine if I fill you up and breed this pretty little pussy with my seed, How does that sound darling? Wanna give lonely Megumi a sibling to take care of?” He questions your fucked out self as he licks away the trail of salty tears lingering on your face. Not knowing that Megumi is just like him. Their minds are sooo alike. “Shitshitshit—such a good little horny slut, this pussy’s taking my cock sooo well baby. Whaddya say we make old man Toji a grandpa? Fuck he wouldn’t even have a clue it’s not his” he laughs into your ears as he licks your earlobe while drilling his swollen cock into your soppy cunt from behind, against the kitchen counter just 20 minutes before toji gets home.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend who gets her sweet cunt and tight asshole stuffed full with his son’s seed almost every other day. Megumi would brutally fucked your tight pussy against the bathroom sink while he’s taking a nap, your panties bearly hanging around the sides of your ankles as Megumi manhandles your body back onto his cock—forcing you to meet his thrust halfway as he pounds it into you, he's so girthy and big, definitely not as big as Toji’s but it’s definitely a lot more stiff and eager, his tip bullyingly grazes against your g-spot as you cried out, making him grunt before quickly slapping a hand over your mouth to shut you up. “Can’t a nasty whore shut the fuck up? Or do you want him to wake up and see you creaming on his son’s cock? Is that what you want? Such a cock-hungry little slut.”

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend that he buys sexy lingerie for, to wear and model them for him and he finishes off the show by ripping them to shreds off of you and fucking you into a brainless whore—but like father, like son, Megumi does the exact same when he’s not there. It’s like they both think alike when it comes to certain things—that being sex. No wonder sometimes some of them tend to go “missing” leading him to buy you even more for his son Megumi to fuck you in. He loves seeing you all dolled up with your matching pink panties and bra. It makes both of them absolutely feral.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the adoring girlfriend who he fucks absolutely stupid and good, to the point where your toes curled as your eyes roll back to your skull—a moaning mess as he forces out orgasms after orgasms out to you till the whole mattress is drenched and soaked with cum. The only (downside?) would be Megumi hearing everything from the next room, brows furred together has he angrily fist fuck his pulsating cock, imagining he was the one drilling deep into you instead. The next day he’d corner you while your sitting on the couch and manhandle your body so you’ll be face down and ass up—stuffing three thick, long fingers into your tight asshole, stretching it apart while he snakes his tongue deep into your hungry pussy—exploring your insides. Your asshole taking in his fingers with pure pleasure as you buckle your hips back onto his face, like a whore—eagered for more.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I THINK YOUR LOVE WOULD BE TOO MUCH ; SATORU GOJO

summary; satoru knows that you’re worried about something. he just doesn’t know what.

word count; 4.1k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, sickening amounts of fluff, (that’s literally all. that’s it. thank you for your time), you’re both down horrendous, the ”something” reader is worried about is very very silly <333, mostly satoru’s pov!!

a/n; i love this man so fucking much my chest hurts so i dug up the sappiest wip i could find in my drafts <333 you can tell i completely lost the plot halfway through but just pretend that i didn’t ok. i dedicate this to gojo nation :3

satoru feels your stare prickle at the back of his neck.

he’s rummaging through the fridge, one hand on his hip, grabbing two cans of iced tea from the bottom compartment. peach for him, lime for you. his infinity is down, the pads of his fingers meeting chilled aluminum, condensation licking at his skin.

but the goosebumps that sensation causes is nothing compared to the ones he gets from this — your stare digging into the back of his head, your attention aimed directly at him. when he turns around, closing the fridge with a bump of his hipbone, you freeze. like a deer caught in headlights. 

satoru grins.

”you checkin’ me out?”

”no,” you blurt. his smile only grows.

”aw…” he waltzes across the room, from the kitchen island to the living room, fuzzy socks against the floorboards. ”what’s up, then? something on your mind?”

with a clink, he puts the cans of tea down on the coffee table. you murmur out a breath of thanks, but make no move to reach for either of them.

now that he’s close enough to see you properly — he thinks to himself that you do look a little ill at ease. something in the crease between your brows, shying away from the eye contact he wants. something in the way your voice comes out somewhat strained.

”it’s nothing… i just —” 

you stop. gaze fleeing from his own, slipping down to your lap. he thinks you look particularly small like this. curled up on his expensive couch, curling in on yourself; gnawing at your bottom lip.

”… i’m being dumb.”

satoru hums. tilting his head, taking you in — wasting no more than a mere moment before taking action. 

you feel him plop down next to you, a shift in the weight bearing down on his couch. comforting. when you glance up, he’s smiling, patient and light. hand sneakily slipping between the cracks of your own, squeezing your palm, running his thumb over the ridges of your knuckle.

”wanna tell me about it?”

from behind the black layer of glass obscuring your frame, satoru watches you intently. watches your expression shift, drinking in the twitch of your brows, how the colour of your eyes flickers in the light. the way your soul sulks and sputters under the weight of his all-seeing gaze. 

you part your lips. slowly, searching for the right words — only to close them again.

you try once more. hesitant. 

all you can manage is a frustrated huff.

”it’s nothing, honestly,” you’re quick to backtrack, wincing inwardly. ”i've just… been thinking. i guess.”

a hum. his smile doesn’t waver. ”about what?”

you avert your gaze. biting your lip, again, turning away from him; resting your chin on the heel of your palm. avoiding his stare like it could turn you to stone. he barely picks up on the words you murmur, flowing out beneath your breath.

”i... can't tell you.”

satoru raises a brow. 

a moment passes. two, three — the silence is telling. you can hear the discontentment in his voice, despite his attempts to mask it.

”why not?”

”i… haah.” you scoot away, just a little more, turning away so he can’t dissect your expression the way he’d like to. ”i just can’t, okay?”

silently, silently, he observes you. the little of you he can see, at the very least; fixating on the side of your face, your cheek, those fluttering eyelashes. as if it could tell him something. you can’t see the way his eyes narrow, behind his shades, black glass shielding you from the weight of his scrutiny.

satoru bites back a huff. 

curiosity and impatience aside, he feels offended. thoroughly so. he doesn't like it when you shut him out, like this, when you don’t allow him to soothe you.

your relationship has been a slow one — steady, a kind of settling in he never thought he’d experience. calm waves lapping along the edges of smooth sand, washing away tiny pebbles and handfuls of sea glass; delicately coming closer. getting him used to the sensation before gently urging him to take a dip. 

that’s the kind of love you share. 

so it stings, a little, when you won’t let him return the favour. it stings in the same way his phantom scars itch on cold nights.

he knows opening up isn't easy. for you, for anyone, least of all for him — but he still finds himself feeling a little bit dejected. because he's supposed to be your safe space. the person you can trust with absolutely anything.

(if he can’t be that, for you, then what the hell is he even good for?)

he can’t help but feel the slightest tug of worry, too. seeing the tight line of your closed lips, that hardness of your expression. the unmistakable stress accumulating in the corners of your eyes.

but he doesn’t voice that worry. he simply gives your hand another squeeze, and smiles a little wider.

”try me.”

a sigh flows from your lips. ”you don't get it, satoru.”

your voice has a bite to it, now, just a little harsh. something akin to a soft hiss — defensiveness, he ultimately settles on. but why?

”it’s —” you muster up a glance his way, the slightest little peek, before turning away again. blurting out the words on the tip of your tongue. ”it’s so fucking embarrassing. you’ll laugh.”

satoru blinks.

”… huh?”

”you’ll laugh, and you'll tease me, and — ” he feels your hand slip from his own, muffling a groan as it covers your face. ”i’ll never live it down.”

you’re hiding, squirming, and satoru’s curiosity increases at an alarming rate. he leans forward, trying to catch a glimpse of your face, but you don’t let him. 

now he’s nothing short of intrigued.

”i won't,” he says, simply. voice as clear as glass. you scoff into your hands.

”you will!”

”i promise you i won't laugh.”

”you always say that.” a sigh falls from your lips, deep and heavy, as your hands finally slip down to your lap. ”but you never mean it. you’ll laugh so much. i know you will.”

you bite down on your lip. he wants to cup your jaw and kiss you, mend the bruising with a swipe of his tongue — but he tactfully decides against it.

”it’s — it's so…” you trail off, fidgeting with your hands, nervously linking your fingers together. gazing down with a pout. ”so stupid.” 

”baby…”  his voice takes on a fond tone, tender and patient. everything he strives to be, when it comes to you; you and you alone. ”c’mon. you can tell me anything.” 

with a sense of delicacy, he takes your hands into his bigger ones. tucking them into his palms, bringing them into his own lap — meeting your meek eyes. 

”right?”

through the blue of his gaze, he watches you falter. watches your eyes soften, crumbling a little, as you silently weigh your options. you look flustered.

then you slowly part your lips.

”you’re gonna think i’m just joking, or whatever, but — but i mean it. i’m…” your throat bobs with a shallow gulp. ”i’m seriously worried.” 

satoru nods. ”i’ll take you seriously.”

you look up. all you’re met with is a reassuring smile, familiar dimples, the slightest hint of a kind blue behind his shades.

and you finally give in.

”i… i think i might —”

shifting and squirming, your gaze flits from spot to spot, hands still intertwined with his own. you’re caged in, forced to face him, and it only adds to your nervosity. his eyes never leave your face.

”i think… i…”

your voice comes out sounding tiny. gaze stuck to the couch beneath you, as your lips form around the right syllables, and you finally blurt out out the words you've been trying to keep at bay —

”i think i love you too much.”

…

silence.

you still refuse to meet his gaze. a red hue crawls up your neck, spreading to the tips of your ears, heartbeat pounding under your ribs. the sentence spills out of your lips like an arrow; so rushed he barely deciphers it in time.

before the silence can swallow you whole, you continue. trying not to stammer, holding back an embarrassed wince. pouting softly, brows furrowed as your clammy hands twitch anxiously against his own. ”like... to the point where… it drives me a little insane.”

and then you wait. with bated breath, too embarrassed to look up, bottom lip tensing and softening between your teeth. dreading the explosive reaction he’ll undoubtedly give you.

… except it doesn’t come.

he’s not saying a word. nothing. the silence is so deafening you could cut it in half, lingering, festering in the air around you. all you hear is your own stupid, erratic little heartbeat — refusing to settle down. 

a couple painful moments pass, before you physically can't take it anymore.

as slowly as you can muster, your gaze travels upwards — from his lap to his chest to his exposed collarbone, until his face finally enters your field of vision. you can’t resist the temptation.

(why is he being so quiet? satoru is never quiet.)

you meet his gaze. or what you think is his gaze, anyhow, because you can’t see the way his eyes are squeezed shut. what you do notice is the twitch of his lips, quivering ever so slightly, as if unsure of which direction to go — and you know one of satoru’s sharp teeth must be biting down hard to keep them in place. his shoulders are shaking, only barely, and he breathes out sharply through his nose; in a desperate attempt to keep his promise.

desperately struggling to maintain his composure. 

he makes the mistake of opening his eyes, and all that effort goes down the drain. met with the sight of your flushed face, wide eyes, shining with embarrassment and disbelief. 

like a stack of cards blown over by the wind, satoru’s poker face crumbles. he fails to bite back the wide grin that breaks out across his lips, showing off the white of his teeth, and a soft bout of fresh laughter flows from out his lips.

you gape at him. 

then your brows furrow, harshly, and you choke on a scoff. with a start, you’re scrambling to stand up, tugging your hands away from his. 

”see?” you hiss, almost tripping over your own two feet as you shoot up from the couch. ”i told you! you're laughing!”

(you sound so embarrassed he thinks he might cry.)

satoru gives up. laughter reverberating throughout his entire body, deep and loud, from the very bottom of his gut — enough to have him clutching at his sides. that only makes you flush deeper, glare harder, and all he can think is that he wants to kiss you silly.

”you promised!”

”i’m —” he chokes on a sharp wheeze, one hand reaching out to keep you from leaving. ”i’m sorry, baby, i —”

but he only ends up doubling over. sputtering with laughter, feeling the leather of the couch meet his cheek. you turn away sharply, and he pulls himself up again. ”wait — sweetheart —” 

a fond chuckle rumbles through his chest, his long arms circling around your waist and pulling you into his embrace. caging you in. you struggle helplessly, trying desperately to break free, but it’s useless — he’s the strongest for a reason.

all you can do is writhe and grumble under your breath, inhaling a familiar scent of vanilla and musk. the fabric softener he uses puts your senses hopelessly at ease, but he’s still laughing — so you can’t help but kick and struggle seamlessly.

”let me go, satoru!”

said man chokes on another little laugh, shoulders shaking, tucking you so close he can feel the pitter patter of your heartbeat against his stomach. you’re so upset with him. but he can’t stop, can't reel it back in, and every weak punch to his chest and muffled protest just makes his composure feel more out of reach. he tried his best. 

he really, really did. 

he tried so hard not to laugh.

(”i think i love you too much.”)

god. just what is he supposed to do with you, huh?

”i’m sorry,” he grins, almost entirely out of breath. ”’m not doing it on purpose, you're just —” 

a sudden fit of giggles. 

"you're so cute.”

”satoru, it’s — not funny,” you whine, practically burning up. every single sound he makes buzzes in your ear. ”i’m serious. i —”

you squeeze your eyes shut. giving in, finally, allowing yourself to melt into his arms. limbs losing their feistiness. he delights in the sensation.

”you don't get it.”

it’s a whisper, muffled against the fabric of his shirt, but he hears it nonetheless. deep breaths, he reminds himself. it’s hard to take such an adorable confession seriously, but he tries. for whatever reason, you genuinely sound troubled. 

”wait, so you —” he bites back an amused breath, but can’t hide the palpable smile in his voice. ”you love me… too much?”

a groan. you hide away, nuzzling further into his chest; your safe harbour. 

”… i told you it was embarrassing.”

”it’s not,” he’s quick to console you. ”i’m just confused.” a big palm glides across the back of your head, smoothing down your tousled hair. he pats your head softly. ”i mean…” 

a deep inhale. his heartbeat finally settles into a calm rhythm, slow and steady, lungs flooding with oxygen. he breathes out through his nose.

”is that really such a bad thing?”

”it is.” a frown finds its way onto your lips. your reply is instantaneous. ”i don’t think it’s normal. i’m just…”

satoru listens. patiently, feeling your fingers grip onto the edges of his shirt — comforting yourself with the soft fabric. then you sigh.

”i don’t know. i just can’t, like…” you grapple for the right word, moving your hands haphazardly, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. ”comprehend how much i love you.”

satoru bites back a smile. 

(his heart flutters, flutters, flutters, like cherry blossoms on a windy spring morning.)

before he has the chance to, you part your lips again; speaking in a soft voice. resigned, he thinks. ”it’s just weird. it’s not exactly bad, but —” 

you bite down on your lip. 

”... it’s scary.”

a soft coo buzzes in your ear. satoru can’t help but pull you closer, closer still, smothering you in the warmth of his embrace. conveying what he knows will be too much for you to hear in words — what he knows he couldn’t convey in the language that you speak. you feel warm, still burning up a bit. like a little firefly. 

he isn’t faring much better, though; a vague heat blooming under the skin of his nape. smiling so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt.

(what on earth did he do to deserve you?)

a firm jaw settles on the top of your head. satoru parts his glossy lips, voice flowing out somewhat breathlessly, affectionate as can be. 

”don’t you think i feel exactly the same about you?”

his pulse trembles against you. when you strain your ears, you can hear the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat, mingling with your own; still resounding in your ears. 

”… i dunno.”

satoru’s hold around you tightens, ever so slightly. something in the way he cradles you, strong arms around your waist, a low hum accompanying the light squeeze of his limbs. he can’t see your face, from this angle, but his pupils still flicker downwards — hungry for a glimpse of your expression.

then he smiles. 

”i’m terrified of you, y’know?”

you blink. once, then twice, eyelids fluttering. a moment of silence passes.

”… huh?”

”beyond terrified, actually,” his smile builds into a grin. ”i’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it. no one scares me more than you do.”

satoru pulls away, just a little, just enough to finally get a good look at you. your eyes are brimming with confusion. a large palm goes to cradle your cheek, and he tilts his head — inhaling a breath.

”i love you so much that it hurts.”

…

a soft chuckle slips from out his lips, when he catches your flustered, wide-eyed stare. sneaking a hand towards the small of your back, leaning in to press a kiss against the apple of your cheek.

”i adore you,” he whispers, smooth syllables melting into a purr. you stiffen under his touch. his fingertips trace the lines of your jaw, lips trailing down to your neck, chaste and sweet as he nips at the sensitive skin. muttering under his breath. ”you have no idea.”

and you truly, truly don't. satoru doesn't think you even know the half of it. 

you can’t possibly know what you mean to him — that your very presence makes him forget who he is, what he has to be, a weight on his shoulders he grew used to long ago. you can’t possibly know that just the feeling of your hand in his makes the distance between you feel so inconsequential. 

you are the most precious thing in his life. he doesn't think you could ever understand the weight that sentiment carries — he wouldn't want you to. 

and here you are, so awfully worried, because you're too in love with him. he still can't help but grin. you’re so sweet, so silly. the words make him feel as if his heart is crumbling.

”… i can't believe you’re real sometimes.”

something tender rests under the whisper. something frighteningly sincere. it makes you feel a little like you’ve been sliced open. it’s raw, it’s heavy and light and it’s love. it’s satoru — all his little inconsistencies, and the stability beneath it all. 

and some part of you knows that he's telling the truth. that he understands your ridiculous little confession, your embarrassing worries. satoru understands. 

that alone is enough to quell the turmoil in your chest. 

(what he gives you is a love as boundless as the sky; one that covers everything you could ever be. unconditional.)

”so there’s no need to worry.” 

he pulls back, lips leaving your skin. you still feel their warmth linger. his shades have slipped down, barely hanging on to the bridge of his nose, and you can see the blue of his eyes. they’re shining like jewels, soft around the edges. consumed by love.

”there’s no way you could ever love me as much as i love you.”

gazing into his eyes, as if hypnotized by their glow, your own gleam with a mesmerizing shine. glazed over with something sweet and wonderful, something satoru wants to burn into his retinas so he never forgets it. he wishes he could wring it out of you and put it in his pocket — but it looks prettier behind your cornea.

he savours the moment, slowly, until it abruptly ends.

with a second of pause, your brows draw together, forming into an irritated furrow. lips tugging downwards into a frown. ”that’s not true.”

satoru blinks. still smiling. 

”i love you way more,” you huff. petulant, almost, something soft and amused in your tone. he thinks the sound fits you more than anything; unburdened and stubborn.

(as charming as you are, though — this is one battle he refuses to lose.)

”nu-uh,” he pokes the tip of your nose, delighting in the soft flutter of your blinking eyelashes. ”i love you more. sorry, sweetie.”

a huff. ”you don't.”

”i do.”

”you don't."

this time, you're the one reaching out, the pad of your finger landing on the tip of satoru’s nose — teasingly trailing up to the bridge of it. his heartbeat stutters, but he feigns nonchalance, raising an unimpressed brow; eyes unknowingly gleaming with mirth. 

and mischief.

you barely have time to react. one moment you're seated on satoru’s lap, the next you're looking up at him with your back against the couch. he towers over you, keeping your hands pinned above your head with a single palm. 

a familiar chill runs down your spine.

”i do,” he grins, free hand reaching towards you. recognizing the danger of a situation you've been in more times than you can count, you try to squirm away — but you don't get very far.

satoru’s fingers ghost over your sides, and panic floods your wide eyes. 

even though you know exactly what’s about to happen, a yelp still pushes past your lips when he begins to tickle you. mercilessly, fingers trailing over your most sensitive spots. all you can do is squirm, trying your damnedest to bite back the bout of laughter crawling up your throat —

but apparently neither of you are very good at that.

when the familiar cling of your laughter finally spills past your lips, flowing into satoru’s ears, his smile blooms into a grin. big and happy, childish in its innocence — not even attempting to hide his joy. his own giggles melt into your soft wheezes and desperate pleas, as you struggle to break free, straining against the firm hold he has on your wrists.

”i love you way, way, way more,” he continues to tease, halting his movement just enough to let you catch your breath. ”it’s not even close.”

even as giggles breathlessly spill from your lips, you manage a shake of your head. ”no, you —”

”wrong answer.”

he cuts you off with a smirk, and the torture starts anew. you can't get the words out, caught in your throat and muffled by a loud squeak, followed by forced laughter. satoru watches, in pure adoration, waiting for the moment you finally relent. 

it doesn’t take long.

”f — fine, fine!”

he stills. eyes crinkled, shades barely hanging on to the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to keep going. if only so he can hear your melodic giggles.

”can’t we —” you struggle to catch your breath, words stuck between bouts of leftover laughter. cheeks flushed and chest heaving. ”just call it a tie?”

satoru pauses. he drags it out, exaggerated, building up suspense. eyes narrowing playfully. ”hmmm…” 

then he smiles. a soft, resigned little thing. 

”alright, alright.” he leans forward, keeping you in place. ”that works, i guess.”

and then his lips meet yours. soft and glossy, tasting of cherries, a pleased sigh against your mouth. you’re still panting a little, but he doesn’t seem to mind — slow to pull away, with a drawn out mwah, grinning boyishly at your disheveled state. he lets your wrists go free.

an unimpressed look is all you give him, quick to melt into a soft chuckle. 

”well, that’s that.” you push yourself up with your elbows, fixing your tousled hair. ”now we can forget this ever happened.”

satoru raises a brow. 

”oh, i dunno about that,” he purrs, voice ripe with mischief. a teasing glint flashes in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you, and it’s enough to have your face heating up again. the sight makes him coo. ”you love me so much you can't comprehend it, huh?”

you blink. it takes a moment for your expression to shift, from bafflement to embarrassment — but he thinks it’s all worth it when it does. barely restraining the urge to kiss you again.

”satoru…”

a giggle leaves his lips. reaching a hand out, he pinches your cheek. ”you’re cute.”

with a roll of your eyes, you swat him away; unable to bite back a smile. “quit it.”

”aw.”

he looks so smug. you can’t help but want to bite back, somehow — so you muster up your most shit-eating grin, a distinctly teasing lilt coating your sugar-sweet voice. 

”you love me so much that it hurts, huh?”

satoru blinks.

endearment blooms, in the depths of his cerulean eyes. he watches you carefully, awfully amused — thinking to himself that he must be rubbing off on you. what a scary thought.

”yeah,” he breathes, a sigh laced with sincerity. cupping your cheek with the palm of his hand, settling on the option he knows will fluster you most. ”i do.”

this time, you’re the one who blinks. once, twice, before letting out a groan — slumping against his broad frame. satoru chuckles, breathlessly, consumed by you; by every move you make. all six of his eyes aimed directly at you.

(if he gives you the sky, then what you give him is a love as steady as the ocean; one that’ll drown every bit of his sadness. entirely unyielding.)

”can’t you ever just let me win?” you mutter, breathing in his cologne and tugging at his shirt. pressed up against him, on his couch, safe and secure. right where you should be.

he noses at your neck, pressing a little kiss against your pulsepoint. a quiet, quiet offering at the altar of your soul. ”nope,” he hums, smiling cheekily. 

”i love you too much for that.”

[kurooh]

Can you make something with Sero and Shinsou? Maybe they firts eating you out or making you squirt (I'm just really dumb I asked in the comment section and I don't even know if I'm sending it in the right place, it's my first ever ask, so sorry for anything and the bad english, I love your writing so much lots of love for you)

SOMETHING NEW ☆ MY HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. featuring midoriya izuku, sero hanta, kaminari denki, shinsou hitoshi, & takami keigo trying something new in the bedroom with you.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, threesome, oral, facesitting, squirting, a vibrator, filming, orgasm denial, nothing too crazy

xoxo, juno. no worries your english is perfectly fine!! i saw your comment but i’ve been busy so i’m sorry this took a while 🥲 thank you & sending you lots of love <3

MIDORIYA IZUKU + a vibrator

“uhhh, what setting do you want it on?”

you giggle softly as izuku fumbles with the wand, eyes widening when it buzzes out of control once he mistakenly presses the highest setting. “how about you amp it up as we go, ‘zuku?”

he’s flushed down to his neck as his thumb rubs reassuring circles into your thigh, wand moving closer to your cunt. the head settles onto your clit and izuku pushes two fingers inside of you, which you adjust to with a hushed exhale.

“‘s good,” you nod, laying back onto the pillows as heat settles in your lower stomach.

“i’d hope so,” izuku chuckles nervously, curling his fingers inside you and prodding against your g-spot while the vibrations against your clit get barely stronger. “is this okay?”

“hm, yeah,” you huff, wiggling your hips as your hand comes to rest on top of his. he watches as you push the vibrator harder against you, gesturing to the buttons. “do it like you mean it, ‘zuku.”

“are you sure?” he’s painstakingly awkward when it comes to trying something new, having never used a vibrator before or watched you use it. you’d been working together to clear out your nightstands when he came across the pink wand, questioning what it was until you told him and asked him if he’d like to try it out on you.

“of course i am,” you wink, hand slipping away from his and relinquishing control. carefully, izuku presses the button, turning it up and increasing the power of the vibrations against your clit.

the new, welcomed change in stimulation pulls delicious moans from your lips, and his cock eagerly twitches in his pants. with this, he could easily have you sobbing and begging for more. what if he paired this toy with his cock sometime?

the simple thought has him creating an entire scenario in his head, unconsciously amping it up a few settings.

“fuck!” you exclaim, back arching right off the bed as you buck closer to him. “i-izuku, that’s perfect.”

“yeah? feeling close at all?” he hums, voice lilting into a curious, innocent tone. the setting is changed again, buzzing growing louder as your clit swells beneath the head of the toy.

“n-now i am,” it’s so much stimulation and the continuous, random changes of the settings make it so that you can’t catch your breath. just seeing you spread out for him on the bed has izuku’s eyes widening and growing teary as he thinks of how far this could go.

“already, huh?” izuku finds his confidence growing, a large palm coming down roughly against your ass. “know what, baby?”

he flicks his thumb against the button and the change has your eyes rolling back into your skull. some kind of noise comes from your parted, spit slicked lips in place of your voice.

“how about,” his eyes rise to connect with yours, gleaming with something filthy. “you don’t cum till i tell you to? is that alright, baby?”

KAMINARI DENKI & SERO HANTA + threesome

“so, about that bet..” a smug little smile has denki’s lips curling, and hanta’s eyes rolling in aggravation.

“seriously, dude? you wanna ask right now?”

“shut up, there’s no rule against it,” the blonde replies petulantly, sticking his tongue out and still fucking into you, maintaining his brutal pace with long, languid strokes. “so? we’re dying to know.”

you shudder, gagging on hanta’s cock as denki pulls you back onto his own, asscheeks slapping against his thighs.

“i don’t think she can answer you, idiot.” hanta bites back a moan, scoffing towards his best friend instead. denki’s shameless, moaning in between each word he says to either you or hanta.

“feelin’ good, baby?” his jaw clenches at the sight of hanta’s hand on your head, urging you to take his cock deeper into your throat.

the whole reason you’d even gotten into this situation was because the three of you found out you were all fucking one another on the down low. then questions were flying through the air like arrows, each of them hounding you about who you thought fucked better. i don’t know, you’d said, let’s all find out.

drool races down hanta’s balls as you choke on his length, which tenses and thickens on your tongue. “shit, i’m gonna cum,” he gasps, hanging his head and looking down at you with stars in his eyes. “w-will you swallow it all for me?”

“you’re losing for sure, couldn’t even last more than three minutes,” denki laughs, interrupting hanta’s moment of bliss with his stupidity. thankfully, he’s ignored, and hanta pretends he’s not even there, allowing himself to cum down your throat with a groan. he’s forced to steady himself by planting his hands on your back, already beginning to shake as your throat contracts around him.

“real greedy, huh?” he gasps, his voice raspy.

despite all his talk, denki follows suit, desperately rubbing at your clit so you’ll cum with him. thankfully, hanta pulls back to watch, fingers stroking over the taut muscles of your shoulders.

“fuck fuck fuck,” denki sobs, beads of sweat racing down his nose as he feels his body grow hotter. “b-baby, gonna cum inside you—”

your back arches, body nearly collapsing onto the bed. “i’m cumming too,” you manage, swallowing as tears fall from your eyes. your last demand is simple before you fall forward into the duvet. “d-denki, fuck me through it, please..”

hanta’s already hard just from your voices, slowly stroking his cock while denki pushes himself halfway in and lets go with a choked groan. cum spurts into you, and he pulls out quickly, watching as it pours from your sloppy cunt.

“well. i’m ready for another round.” hanta’s voice is playful but you and denki are exhausted, collapsing on one another with heaving sighs.

“dude, read the room,” denki huffs, wiping the sweat from your forehead and offering you a bottle of water.

“oh, you cannot be talking,” hanta snaps, fully naked and jumping up in astonishment. “i recall saying the exact thing when you were—”

they start arguing, and you just turn over and pray you fall asleep. even when they realize you’re trying to sleep, they go back and forth about waking you up.

SHINSOU HITOSHI + facesitting & squirting

“come here, now.”

“are you really sure? i can always just lay on my back like usual, i really don’t want to hurt you.”

hitoshi scoffs, impatiently waving you over with a bored huff. “i promise you won’t. sit down and stop worrying, baby.”

you balk at his lightly demanding tone, crawling across the bed and biting your lip as you position your thighs on either side of his head. still, you’re hesitant — it’s obvious in the way you’re hovering above his face.

“my tongue won’t be able to reach your clit,” hitoshi says bluntly, unimpressed with your nervousness. what are you so afraid of? you’ve been together for so long, you should know by now that he’d be happy to go out between your thighs. air simply doesn’t matter when your pleasure’s on the line.

a whimper slips past your lips and you lower yourself carefully, clit bumping into the tip of his nose. “is this good enough, toshi?”

“mhm,” comes his voice from below you; he’s entranced by the sight of your soaked pussy, practically dripping, all from a few well placed kisses along your body. “relax and enjoy it, okay? i want this—i want to taste you.”

“o-okay,” you huff out, and hitoshi rests a large hand on your asscheek. if he spanks you, you might lose your balance and crush him.

“don’t be afraid to make a mess for me, baby,” his last words are no louder than a whisper, and he gives your clit an experimental lick. his tongue is silky, sticky with the saliva that’s been pooling in his mouth at the thought of tasting you.

“again,” the command rushes past your lips before you can stop it. “lick my clit again.”

hitoshi’s hand comes down hard against your asscheek, and you waver above him; he notices your pointless resistance to sit fully. how cute, you’re that concerned for his ability to breathe.

“where are those manners, baby? as far as i’m concerned, you haven’t the liberty to ask for anything without fully sitting down.”

oh, so he’s trying to force you to take a seat.

but you shut up, lowering yourself down further, and hitoshi lets out a moan of approval, licking up your sticky pussy. glossy strings of slick gather on his tongue, and your taste is truly so addictive that he can’t help but rush in for more without taking a moment to breathe.

“oh, hitoshi,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. he’s pushed two fingers inside of you without any hesitation, filling you up and stretching you out deliciously. the initial sting before the rush of pleasure is a feeling that makes your head spin.

“mmm,” hitoshi groans deeply against your cunt, nose pushing into your clit as he speaks. “put your hand on your lower stomach for me.”

without asking questions, you do as he says, placing a hand right above your pelvic bone. his hand moves from your ass and comes down on top of yours, pushing it down into the soft skin.

“good girl,” hitoshi huffs out, lavishing your clit with attention from his tongue, curling his fingers inside you while also pressing your hand into your lower stomach. a new pressure builds inside you, white hot and only making your pussy even wetter.

what is this?

hitoshi feels the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm without needing a warning; your walls squeeze his fingers so hard they’re almost pushed out, muscles in your thighs tensing on either side of his head. “it’s coming, ‘s coming,” is all you can sob out to describe the unfamiliar feeling that’s taken place inside your body, “hitoshi, it’s gonna—”

oh, the way you say his name is something he’ll always commit to memory no matter how many times he’s heard it. your voice is frantic as you give in to the pleasure, sitting all the way down on his face and then grinding on it. this is what he was after the whole time—he wanted you to use him to get off, take the lead so he’d have no choice but to follow.

“hitoshi,” is all you can sob out, voice breaking into teary moans as you succumb to pleasure. out of control, your pussy gushes waterfalls of liquid onto his face, into his mouth, all over his skin.

even as you’re riding out the high on his face, hitoshi’s sure to help you through it, tonguing at your sensitive cunt and drinking in everything you’re giving him. “it’s t-too much, i can’t take it,” and you try to move off him, but he easily prevents you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking tightly.

the action pulls a pitched whine from you as you realize you cannot move away and catch a break from the intense pleasure.

“toshi—”

“that was fucking perfect,” he grunts against you, licking your mess off his lips eagerly. “i want you to do that again for me.”

“what was that?” you muster, lifting up with a gasp. your pussy made quite the mess — covering his entire face with shimmery slick and other juices.

“you squirted, baby,” hitoshi says simply, “and you’ll get more familiar with it in just a moment.”

“what’s that mean?” nervousness lines your words.

“you’ll get more acquainted with what it is after some practice. it’s better to learn sooner rather than later, hm?”

TAKAMI KEIGO + filming & orgasm denial

“hehe, is it on, kei?”

“shhh! it’s been on, babe.”

you suppress a cute laugh, looking back to the phone propped up on the dresser. from a distance, you see your reflection — you’re on your belly, between keigo’s thighs, face to face with his hard cock. you’d been going back and forth about when he’d go away on missions, how you both needed something better than your imaginations while you were apart.

keigo wiggles his hips, pushing close to you impatiently. you roll your eyes, making a show of leaning forward and taking him in inch by inch, until you’re gagging at his base.

“jesus, fuck—!” his back lurches off the bed and he laughs awkwardly at how quickly he’s reacting, but it dissolves into a groan almost immediately.

his fingers lightly ghost the sides of your face as he looks at you adoringly, “you’re beautiful when you’re sucking me off like this.”

you hum appreciatively, the vibrations resonating through his entire lower body and pulling a gasp from his throat. he wants to say more, but he doesn’t want to have to hear his own voice every second when he’s jerking off in the future.

just the thought of jerking off in the future makes a fantasy play like a video behind his eyes — you, fingering yourself to his moans and gasps of pleasure. how would your nimble fingers toy with your clit in place of his own? would you cry out his name as you cum, tears streaking down your face from the intensity of the stimulation? at the same moment, would he be thousands of miles away doing the exact same thing?

“s-shit, baby,” keigo stutters out a curse, his thighs trembling beneath your fingers, nails pressing into his skin to keep steady. “i’m gonna cum soon.”

his words spur you on, and you take him deeper, increasing your pace. the squelching sound of his cock stroking into your throat grows louder, filling the air. that video is about to become the most valuable file on his phone.

the desperation hangs off every word of his, sending a bolt of pleasure right between your legs. there’s a delicious tension in the air between you, and he’s raring to relieve it, hurtling closer to his orgasm by the millisecond.

one of the biggest pro heroes in japan has been reduced to a shaking mess by your touch; keigo’s wings flap violently, kicking up stray vermillion feathers and messing up the blankets. his voice breaks as you pull your head back, then take him deep into your throat. “i-i’m gonna cum— dove, swallow it all,” with two fingers, you tightly squeeze his base and pull off his cock with a pop.

“what are you—? why did you do that?” this denial is so frustrating that he feels a pathetic lump in his throat and tears pricking the corners of his eyes. he was so close to his euphoric high, only for you to rip it away.

“not yet,” is your calm answer as your free hand pushes his jolting hips down. “soon enough, keigo. let’s have some fun before you cum.”

his wings are trembling, quivering from the force in which his almost orgasm was ripped from his grasp. usually, he’d be annoyed, but this is so devastating and he can’t place why. he tries to nudge your head so you’ll suck him off to completion.

“i’m in control now,” you say into his skin, peppering featherlight kisses along his shaking thighs. you look back at the still recording phone on the dresser, and your lips split into a grin. “kei, it’ll be alright. just a few more times and you’ll be cumming in my mouth.”

he can’t help but feel like there’s dishonesty behind those singsongy words, and nods trustingly. “make me cum for real this time, baby.”

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Oral Arguments

Pairing: Husband!Bucky x Female!Doctor!Reader

Word Count: 2,072

Warnings: oral sex

A/N: I’m not usually a fan of the Y/N and Y/L/N thing, but needs must. Sorry, I just had to vent about this personal issue. Thank you Daisy @firefly-graphics for this banner!

It was late when you finally crawled into bed. Bucky was already there, for once. 

“Hey, doll!”

“That’s Doctor Y/L/N to you, buddy,” you poked him angrily in the chest.  “Not Mrs. Bucky Barnes!”

Bucky’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, shocked by your sudden outburst. He had no chance to make a rebuttal as you continued with your rant.

“Just because I’m a woman, it doesn’t make me any less of a doctor… or professional, for that matter,” you grumbled.

“Of course it doesn’t.”

You continued without listening to his response. “I hate that parents say ‘tell the lady what’s wrong’ but with male doctors it’s ‘tell the doctor’.”

Even though he longed to interrupt with words of comfort, Bucky suspected that you wouldn’t take very kindly to it at this particular moment in time. 

“I’m sick of being known as somebody’s appendage. I worked my ass off to get my degree and to hold the position I do now and it’s infuriating that it means nothing.”

You barely noticed the look of shock and worry on Bucky’s face as you vented your frustrations.

“This is your fault, that’s what it is!” You turned to him and poked him in the chest with your index finger.

“M-my fault?” Bucky asked, eyes widening with surprise.

“Yeah! You had to go and make me fall in love with you and marry you!” you pouted. 

“Oh, well then I guess I’m guilty as charged. I don’t regret it,” Bucky smiled, relief washing over him.

“Well now it’s all Mrs. Barnes this, Mrs. Barnes that. I mean these are the same people who once called me Dr. Y/L/N. Just because I’m married I suddenly lose my title. It’s not fair. I hate that I have to work twice as hard to prove myself of being capable.”

“I know, doll.”

“It’s exhausting.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine.”

Suddenly you felt incredibly dejected and your shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry… for yelling. I shouldn’t have.”

“You have every right to get the respect you deserve.” Bucky out his large hands on your arms, gently rubbing them.

“You know I love being your wife. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But not I’m just-”

“My wife?”

You sighed, feeling deflated and completely out of steam.

“I know just the thing!” Bucky’s lips twitched with mischief. “Turn around.”

You did as he asked and Bucky shuffled up behind you, his long thick fingers massaging the knots from your shoulder blades, making you moan in pleasure, and sending pulses of warmth through your neurons. You could feel the knots of tension ebb away with the kneading of his strong digits. Slowly, his touch softened to feather light brushes across your bare shoulders.

The tip of Bucky’s nose tickled your neck, taking in your scent: jasmine and watery cyclamen shampoo. His warm breath sent shivers down your arms as he traced the contour of your neck; lips followed in suit, sweeping the skin on the nape. Bucky moved closer, his chest flush against your back as he nibbled at the helix of your ear, teeth gently scraping your skin.

“Buck, that tickles,” you giggled and turned to face him.

Tilting your face up to meet his eyes, you met his gentle soft look of adoration. You could feel his love and devotion and an almost schoolgirl blush rose to your cheeks.

“Buck, I-” you opened your mouth to thank him, but he silenced you gently with a tap of his finger to your upper lip.

“Shhh, you deserve nothing but the best.”

He traced the outline of your lips, grazing the grooves first with his forefinger, but as you closed your eyes to enjoy the sweet sensation, the texture of his contact changed. Tantalizingly, his lips danced the tango with yours, you breathed in the scent of scotch, and knew that he had indulged in a nightcap before you had rather obtrusively invaded his peaceful evening. Tilting your head back and lifting your jaw, you reached forward longingly, craving the taste of his tongue, his own unique twist of coffee and whiskey. Except that his mouth was just out of reach, guarded by this handsome nose. Every step you took to claim his lips was countered gracefully with the nuzzle of his nose against yours. Unable to satisfy your craving, you opened your eyes to glare into those sapphire orbs, which you knew would stoke the fire that was already raging inside of you. His eyes were wide open, pupils dilated, waiting to meet your gaze, filled with mirth and lust.

“You know it drives me nuts when you tease me like this.”

His lips turned upwards into a smirk at your words, but he remained frustratingly silent, so unlike your smooth-talking husband who always had an opinion, always something to say.

Instead, his thumb stroked the notch of your clavicle tenderly, his fingers working their way across your shoulder, slipping off the silky strap of your chemise. For every motion his fingers made, his eyes never left yours, his attention never waning, even when they brushed your nipple, making you gasp and lean back into his chest. His hand lingered on your bosom, as the other explored the remainder of your body, roaming over your arm, across your stomach, stroking your thighs. Up and down, his hand glided over your frame, every caress did nothing but ignite an insatiable yearning, a longing to be filled.

Each seductive slide, the occasional tantalizing twirl, he edged closer to satisfying your ever increasing desire but never quite giving you the relief you craved. Releasing you from his embrace, Bucky lowered you down onto the pillows behind you, stopping for a moment, only to gently brush the stray strand of hair from your face and give you an adoring smile before returning to his ministrations. His mouth left a blazing trail of kisses from your jaw, down your chest and belly, stopping short of giving you any real pleasure, only adding fuel to the tempestuous flame that raged at your core.

The base of his palm nestled itself on your pubic symphysis as comfortably as though it was made to be there. The pressure applied by his digits made you whimper longingly, each push at the fabric of your underwear made you buck your hips wantonly with the smallest of hopes that he would give you the release you desired. Keeping his hand hovering over the wetness permeating your panties, he placed a hand between your thighs, pulling them apart, splaying your legs, making a great show of his microscopic examination of your personal anatomy.

Finally you could no longer take the agonizing wait for your own gratification, the words burst from your mouth without thought or control, “Bucky please, could you just fuck me already?”

“Gladly,” he growled, although you could barely hear him over the blood coursing through your vessels.

Bucky was rarely one to rush into things headlong, rarely. Pushing aside the small strip of material covering your dripping slit, he slid his fingers between your folds, sending a burst of ecstacy spiraling through to your fingertips. Ever so slowly he parted your lips, lowering himself between them. 

You held your breath in anticipation of what you knew was coming, his eyes told you exactly what he intended. Despite the promise of pleasure, you weren’t prepared for the electrifying sensation that burst through you as Bucky’s tongue touched your clit. This was only the first of a series of impulses, delightful, delicious, delectable, dazzling, delirious! They fired through your nervous system, sending waves of euphoria to every fiber of your being. Twirling, flicking, sucking, he devoured you with fervor. Within minutes you felt dangerously close to coming undone, your body undulated with the rhythm of his tongue. It was a struggle to keep your eyes on him, your hands clutched at the sheets; he was certainly enjoying watching you unravel at the seams. 

Just as you thought you couldn’t stand it anymore, Bucky made you cry out as he slipped two fingers inside you, flexing them slightly into the shape of a hook as he dragged them in and out of your leaking center. The thrusts weren’t hard, neither were they fast, just paced, the same as the stroke of his tongue. Together they massaged the small bundle of nerves to reach your zenith, making you convulse in bliss as your orgasm finally hit, like a tidal wave, strong with its first impact but spreading far and wide, filling every nook and every cranny in its fluidity.  He continued to milk you through your climax, until the tide ebbed away, leaving you lying on the beach of paradise.

Needless to say, he looked rather proud of himself, as he rose from his position. Bucky pulled back the scrunched up material of your lacy garment, smoothing away the creases before leaving a chaste kiss on your silk covered lips.

“One of those would be nice up here, too,” you smiled, pointing at your mouth. 

Still sat between your open legs, Bucky leaned over to indulge you in a real kiss. And even as his tongue worked its magic in a whole new way, you became aware of his throbbing appendage as it pressed against you, begging for attention.

“Buck, do you want me to take care of that for you?” you breathed out between kisses.

He finally spoke, “no, it’s fine. Today is about you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind… in fact, I want to.”

“It’s ok, I got this,” he rose to go to the bathroom.

“Buck!” you called after him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Wait!”

He turned to look at you expectantly.

“Stay?” you asked hopefully, then hesitantly, “if you don’t mind, I- I’d like to watch.”

His eyes darkened. “Really?”

You patted at the space between your legs. “Only if you want to.”

Bucky crawled back to the space he had not long evacuated and it occurred to you that he suddenly looked a little unsure of himself. This wasn’t something either of you had done previously.

“You probably need to remove your pants to deal with that,” you nodded at the bulge in his pants that seemed to be ever increasing.”

“Doctor’s orders?”

“I recommend removal for thorough examination,” you sat up, curled your legs beneath you and leaned closer for a view.

The tables had turned and now your husband was the one sitting exposed between your legs. He stood to attention before your eyes, hard and erect, with a glisten at the head which told you he was ready for action. The urge to reach out and stroke him was strong, but you held your hands away, as he had asked. Your breath came hard and fast as you watched Bucky work his hand up and down his length. 

Mesmerized, you found it impossible to tear your eyes away from the way Bucky’s fingers slid over the ridges of his erection, the well defined grooves that frequently drove you crazy when he pushed inside you. Intently you watched, that was until you felt Bucky’s eyes boring into you. Your gaze snapped up to meet his. The smirk on his lips was bigger than ever and for the first time all evening, you felt a blush creep into your already flushed cheeks, the garnacha rosé turning a merlot red. You bit your lip and smiled shyly. It was Bucky who broke eye contact, as his eyes rolled back and his eyelids fluttered furiously.

“Doll, pass me a condom- quickly.” 

“Why?”

“Easier clean up,” he muttered breathlessly. 

“I have a better idea,” you pointed at your mouth. 

There was no time for objections or closing arguments, the verdict was in. Panting slightly, he nodded and you nimbly scooted around to place your mouth at his tip, in time to see him shudder and catch the eruption of his sweet silvery elixir. Bucky did his best to keep his gaze glued to yours, as you swallowed the luscious nectar of his rapture, giving his tip a quick but unauthorized kiss. He watched as you withdrew your lips, stained with succulent drops of milky paradise.

Both of you lay back on the pile of pillows behind you, much more relaxed than you had been before.

“Buck?” you called tentatively.

“Mmmm?” he hummed in response.

“You can call me Mrs. Barnes whenever you like.”

[harmeu]

GUILT

(HSR MEN X READER) (ANGST)

(GN!READER) 

Synopsis: You and Sunday were dating but then you overhear him talking to those who work with him about how you’re just a pawn for his games.

SUNDAY:

Soft footsteps echoed as you walked through the halls of where your beloved boyfriend Sunday lived. Though a feeling of unknown dread crawled onto you as if warning you of something soon happening.

Click. Click. Click.

Your eyes lit up as you heard your boyfriend speaking to those who worked under him and you couldn't help but eavesdrop. The curiosity of how he acted when he wasn’t around you dwelling in your mind.

“It’s simple. I’m using them. They are just one step closer for me to get closer to my goals.” Sunday said with a calm smile, hands gently tracing his desk looking down at the men who were talking to him.

You were confused.

What were they talking about?

“Sir..are you sure? Aren’t they attached?”

“My so-called significant other is definitely attached. Though that benefits me. Much. More. Easier. To manipulate.”

You paled.

He was using you.

Tears bubbled up in your eyes and you held your hand to your mouth to stifle any noises of sadness that were threatening to come out.

Hitching and turning on your shoe you make a dash for it unaware that Sunday caught a glimpse through the slit of the door open with his eyes. His wings twitched in surprise and soon lowered as a disgusting feeling of shame hit him.

It was an oddity for Sunday.

“Oh dear.” He murmured out making his way out to find you.

Synopsis: Aventurine and you dated but when he bets you in a game everything goes downhill.

AVENTURINE:

You catch your boyfriend, the renowned gambler betting as usual. You told him his hobby wasn't good. But as if that would stop him. Eventually you gave up and just let him do what he wanted despite worry filling you each time he pushed a chip forward with his iconic trademark smirk. 

“Babe..” You murmur out unease written all over your face.

“Oh! Hey darling~ this man just won’t seem to give up..even after I basically drained his savings. He’s penniless and now putting bets on things he doesn't even own!” Aventurine chuckled, holding his head amused.

“Maybe you should stop? It's getting intense, no.?” You worriedly whisper out.

“Oh no no no sweetheart. Once you go in. You can’t come out.”

“Huh?” You fluster.

“In gambling! What were you thinking of?” His smirk grew and became more toothly as you spluttered but it soon died down as Aventurine noticed that the man he was gambling with was slowly earning his chips back.

“You pull up a tough fight.” Aventurine spoke and you just knew he was going to pull an impulsive move. 

“Seems my chips have vanished. What a shame. Yet I do not intend to lose. I bet..my darling sweetheart right here.” 

You flinched at his words staring at him with a ‘did you really just say that’’ look making Aventurine smack back into reality.

“Oh..doll wait I didn’t mea-”

He got cut off by you walking off.

Ping! New message!

(AVENTURINE HAS SENT $1,000,000)

Synopsis: Dating Dr. Ratio was nice. Though he puts more time with other matters, neglecting you.

DR RATIO:

You hadn’t seen your boyfriend Veritas in a while because of him either studying, working, teaching others, or doing something other than hanging out with you. You're aware of his passion to join the Genius Society but he can work on that while hanging out with you too right?

You felt left out.

So you decided to make your way to his office excited to see him but also a bit nervous due to the thought of him brushing you away to work on something else.

You knocked.

“Come in.” You hear his British pompous voice making you crack a small smile not hearing it in a while.

“Veritas..” You open the door smiling but it broke as you saw him writing down something in his notebook not bothering to spare a glance at you.

“What is it? I’m quite busy.” He whispered out, still looking engrossed in his work.

“Do..you want to hang out? It’s been a while and I’ve been worried about you overworking yourself. And I miss seeing you.” You blush at your own words staring at him.

Veritas sighed, dropping his pen and rubbing his temples.

“Dear how many times must I have to tell you that I am busy?” Annoyance is apparent in his tone making your eyes droop in defeat.

“Oh. Sorry. I just wanted to ask..since it's been such a long time.” Another sigh left Veritas as he ran a hand through his hair and finally made eye contact with you.

“I’m doing work at the moment so please leave me to it.” He picked up his pen again taking a glance at you but his eyes widened as he saw your vulnerable expression of defeat. You nodded softly and shut the door leaving.

Veritas stared at the door, his heart clenching in what he just did. Guilt poured onto it.

“My lord.” He murmured holding his now aching head.

[darnell-la]

Love your work! it’s so good, i was wondering if i could request another darkpervy!Logan and reader, She’s sleeping and he sneaks into her room and does whatever, you can decide if she wakes up or not and what they do, thank you!

note: we’ve been gone for a little, but we could never not come back with a dirty, dark, and pervy Logan Howlett post.

———

Logan wasn’t the type to think about secrets the group exposes on themselves on their drunk Friday nights, but what y/n had said earlier had been in his head for the last hour.

“Is it normal to, like, pass out after you finish? I’m not joking- Shop laughing!”

Everyone took what she said as a normal dirty secret, but Logan? God, he got hard within seconds of hearing her secret.

Now the man is outside of her room, listing through the thick door for her moans. He could tell she was close.

“F-Fuck,” y/n whined as her legs began to shake. Logan did his best to keep himself back from cumming right then. Her voice was enough to make a mess in his pants.

After Logan heard a few whines that sounded low and dead, he knocked on her door. He prayed she wouldn’t answer, and thank god she didn’t.

Logan quickly entered her room, closing and locking the door before anyone saw him in the hallway.

The man slowly turned around and met y/n’s sleeping body. She really wasn’t lying.

Logan was excited, heart pounding as his cock twitched. He knew tonight would be the best night he’s ever had.

“Can smell that pussy from over here…” Logan spoke low as he came up to her bed. He thought about taking his time, maybe eating her out or jerking off over her face, but he decided he needed to be in her.

Logan quickly undressed himself before hovering over her, getting in between her loose legs to spread them apart. “So perfect,” was all he could say.

Y/n isn’t too much of a heavy sleeper after she goes out after an orgasm, but for some reason, she hasn’t woken up yet. That orgasm had been one of the top bests.

“Gonna get this done quick and easy, okay, princes?” Logan spoke as he began pushing at her entrance, instantly feeling her tighten around his shaft. Logan groaned loudly as y/n whined, slowly waking up.

Y/n spoke, but Logan couldn’t understand her. She hadn’t even known what she said. She was out of it, and that only made her look better to the man.

“Keep it down, baby,” Logan said as y/n’s head slowly began to move, but she wasn’t fully awakened. She knew something was going on, but she felt pressure in her lower stomach and head. She felt a good kind of dizzy.

“So fuckin’ wet, Bub. You weren’t gonna tell me this? I thought we were close friends?” Logan said as his hands grabbed her lower body, pulling her into his now hard and deep thrust.

Y/n’s eyes squeezed before she tried opening them. She had failed a few times until they finally opened. That meant nothing though, as they were rolling to the back of her head from the sudden pleasure.

“Feels good, sweetheart? Tell me. Tell me you feel good, y/n”, Logan growled as he looked down at her smaller girl, watching her struggle to stay awake and take him.

“Lo?” Y/n asked, which came out as a whine. “Ah huh, I’m right here, baby. It’s me,” the man assured as her hands touched anywhere to grasp what was happening to her.

“L-Lo,” y/n whined, feeling his cock slip into her with ease as she grew more wet. Now she knew she was being fucked, but her brain still couldn’t comprehend the situation.

“Don’t worry — I’m close,” Logan spoke, confusing y/n as she slowly lifted her head. The young lady focused on what was thrust in and out of her cunt, and when she realized it, she couldn’t help but moan.

“Logan,” y/n whined, eyes still on the way his cock pushed into her. “You like it?” Logan asked again as one hand rested on the back of her head, keeping her up to see the view as the other strongly gripped her waist.

“I-I don’t know,” y/n said, but lord knew she loved this. “C’mon, Bub — Tell me you like it. You take me too good not to like it,” Logan said, feeling himself near. “I-I like it,” Y/n’s low voice echoed through his brain.

“Fuck yeah — You fuckin’ like it, baby? Like me having my way with your half-unconscious body?” Logan couldn’t stop thinking about how much he loved her being this way. He never knew this was a kink until earlier today.

“I-I do,” y/n replied right before a pool of cum gushed out of her. “Oh yeah, baby — That’s what I like to see,” Logan picked his pace up, feeling his cock goat h uncontrollably.

“Once I fill you up, I won’t be able to stop,”

[leaderwonim]

WHAT’S YOUR ETA ?!

pairing. exbf’s best friend!heeseung x fem!reader

summary. although heeseung’s always believed in bro code, he can’t help but call you when he sees your boyfriend, park sunghoon, cheat on you with some girl at a party. don’t worry though, heeseung can prove he’s much better than sunghoon.

“Hey! Y/N?” The voice of Lee Heeseung comes through your phone, his camera shaky and pointed at the ground which was covered in what you can only assume is confetti.

“Heeseung?” You say quietly, rubbing your eyes as you sat up from your bed. “Don’t you have a performance later?”

“I cannot believe this,” you recognize the voice of Park Jongseong, who recently became close friends with you after discovering you both liked cooking.

“Isn’t that your boyfriend?” Heeseung moves the camera view from the floor towards the pool of a house you don’t know, zooming into what looks like your boyfriend, Park Sunghoon, talking to another girl.

“Hurry up and get over to Lia’s house!” Jongseong says, eyebrows furrowed. “Oh my God—look at them.”

When the camera finally clears, you realize it’s Yuna standing next to your boyfriend, touching and grazing his arms while he smiles down at her.

Unable to handle it any longer, you practically jump up from the bed, running into your bathroom with your phone in hand.

“Hey, me and Jongseong have to perform,” Heeseung speaks up. “We’ll call you back!”

Heeseung hangs up the FaceTime, and you want to slam your head against your mirror when the sleepiness wears off and you let what you just saw sink into your brain.

“It’s always the girl that he tells you not to worry about,” you say grumpily, brushing your teeth so harshly that the toothbrush practically falls out of your mouth.

By the time Heeseung and Jongseong finish their performance, the crowd was cheering like crazy, but they were both too concerned as to where you were to care.

“Hey Hee!”

The voice of Park Sunghoon almost makes the two boys fall back first into the pool, but luckily Jongseong gripped the back of Heeseung’s shirt tightly so they wouldn’t trip.

“What’s up?” Heeseung chuckles nervously, eyes wandering around to see if Yuna was hanging around nearby.

He knew Park Sunghoon all too well to know that he was most likely going to take Yuna to his house after Lia’s party. Sunghoon was his best friend, but that doesn’t automatically mean Sunghoon was a good person.

“Your performance was killer, man.” Sunghoon pats Heeseung’s back, “you too Jongseong, the way you dance was just flawless.”

“Mhm.” Jongseong tries his best to smile at Sunghoon, which didn’t work because it looks like he was constipated.

“Okay.” Sunghoon awkwardly smiles, patting Heeseung’s back one more time before descending back into the crowd.

“What was that?” Heeseung says, laughing so hard he has to clutch his stomach. “Your eyes were twitching and you looked like you’re gonna poop!”

“Shut up!” Jongseong pushes the older boy back in annoyance. “I didn’t want to speak with that cheater, Y/N’s my friend.”

It was as if Jongseong’s mention of your name spawned you to the party because there you were, walking up to them with the angriest look a woman could have.

“Where is he?” You say, scanning the crowd with a glare.

“Whoa there,” Heeseung places both his hands on your shoulders, “do you really want to do this here? I don’t want Sunghoon to embarrass you.”

“Who says I’m going to end it?” You say, challenging the two boys who’s jaws practically drop to the ground.

“What? Cmon! He’s real bad Y/N, just end it.” Jongseong begs.

“He’s right,” Heeseung says, bambi eyes dosing down at you. “Don’t indulge him.”

“Promise me you’ll pop his tires with me if he embarrasses me?” You ask Jongseong, who automatically nods as he lets out a small giggle.

“Popping his tires and keying his car.”

“Okay,” you take a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”

You spot Park Sunghoon easily now, it wasn’t so hard when Shin Yuna was all up on him.

“Sunghoon!” You yell, which attracts the bystanders nearby. “You cheating bitch!”

Sunghoon’s expression quickly turns into panic, his face converted into a nervous fit of giggles that past you would’ve found endearing and cute.

“What on earth are you talking about?” He chuckles, grabbing your arm as he smiles at bystanders. “Can we not do this here?”

“Oh we’re doing this here.” You elbow him in the stomach, which works because he groans and loses the grip he had on your arm. “We’re done, over. I’ll mail your shit to you so I don’t have to see you ever again. And if you try to come back, I’ll make sure to have Heeseung beat your ass.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows furrow and his expression darkens. “Heeseung? Why would my best friend beat my ass for you?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” You grin. “He was the one who told me you were cozying up with Shin Yuna you bastard!”

“Okay—that’s enough,” Yuna steps in, which only fuels your anger even more.

“You’re so lucky I don’t believe in violence.” You spit out at both of them in disgust.

“Oh please, you wouldn’t dare to hit me.”

“But I would.” Sunghoon has no time to react to Heeseung’s words because his face was already met with the older boy’s fist, making him collide with the floor.

“Holy shit!”

“Sunghoon!”

While Yuna’s busy helping Sunghoon off the ground, Jongseong grabs both you and Heeseung, running towards Lia’s backyard door.

“That was fucking amazing.” Jongseong breathes out. “You punched your best friend.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung sucks in a breath when he realizes it’s starting to bruise. “He’s definitely gonna kill me.”

“Not if I kill him first,” you mumble, carefully grabbing ahold of Heeseung’s hand. “We’re gonna need to bandage your hand. Come to my house.”

Jongseong watches with a smirk as you still hold onto Heeseung’s hand. He walks behind the two of you, happy that you were finally with someone better than Sunghoon.

“This has happened more than once, hasn’t it?” You say, frowning as you patted Heeseung’s bruising hand with ointment.

“I saw it before but you weren’t there,” Heeseung says, sucking in his breath. “I didn’t want to believe Sunghoon was cheating on you so I waited to see if he was gonna do it again. And he did.”

“What an asshole,” Jongseong adds in. “I’m gonna key his daddy’s money Mercedes Benz.”

The three of you laugh, the sadness of the situation wearing down slowly.

“Thanks for telling me Hee,” you say, finally making eye contact with him. “I know you guys were friends for a while.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do what’s right.” Heeseung sighs. “Remember when you couldn’t come to Jongseong’s birthday because he wanted you to help him with economics homework?”

Jongseong lets out a gasp. “Oh my gosh, now that Heeseung’s mentioned it, you did miss my birthday because of that fucker!”

“And remember when I got into trouble? He ditched me even though I’m the closest friend he has.” Heeseung chuckles bitterly. “Or when I got broken up with and Sunghoon told you not to comfort me because it wasn’t your place.”

“I now realize how much power he had over me,” you say, lips curving into the saddest frown Heeseung’s ever seen.

“Hey—it’s okay.” He reassures you. “You were being manipulated by him, it’s not your fault.”

“It’s really not!” Jongseong yells from the living room.

You two roll your eyes at his small commentary, and when you lock eyes again, Heeseung can’t help but break into a smile, admiring how beautiful you looked.

“You deserve better.” Heeseung says breathily.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” His eyes trail down to your lips before looking up at you with those brown bambi eyes again. “You deserve better like me.”

Heeseung doesn’t have to say it twice before you’re crashing your lips onto his, the shriek of Park Jongseong and a cup breaking goes unnoticed by the two of you.

[sooniebby]

Don’t ask how I thought of this… it’s trans male reader, no set character—imagine whoever you want. Bottom reader. Use of pussy, and other “feminine” words. This lowkey just self indulgent, so the reader isn’t fully transitioned 🫶🏼 don’t read if you get dysphoric easily.

You knew your friend did “sex work” on the side. And the reason why it wasn’t true “sex work” was because it was just him and his girlfriend recording themselves having sex and posting it onto Twitter.

It was just a kink for them, really, he never said anything about getting paid for it. But you remember them thinking about putting a paywall to see the full videos.

More power to them, or whatever. When you became roommates with said friend, him and his girlfriend made sure to record any videos when you were gone. Which was great.

It wasn’t until the two broke up, amicably actually, she just found out she was a lesbian—you thought his Twitter porn days were over now he didn’t have a partner. Since he didn’t like doing solo content

What you didn’t think was that he’d ask you to do something with him

“It’s just until I find someone else,” he said, nonchalantly.

“But it doesn’t give you money.”

“Oh we did make money off it. Not a lot, but decent money. Julie was gonna keep doing it with me just to keep some money but now she’s making lesbian content.”

“But girls! Wasn’t it straight porn?”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m straight… the viewers won’t care, pussy’s pussy!” He laughed until he saw your face. “Oh well if it makes you uncomfortable you don’t gotta do it. It is a strange request.” He moved to get up until you grabbed his hand.

“How much?”

“Huh?”

“How much do you earn from the videos?”

“Depends. The viewers love oral sex and teasing videos. Those usually get over… 2k—”

“—I’m in.”

“Seriously?”

“Cash is cash. They won’t be seeing my face right?”

“No. The focus,” he kneeled down close to you, “will be on down here.” His hand trailed against your crotch. “You just gotta lay there and be pretty, baby.”

No wonder the girls who ever dated him cried when they broke up. Who would willingly leave someone with a tongue like this?

You had told him there was no way you’d allow him to call you baby girl or anything of the sort which he happily agreed.

“Don’t worry. It won’t take long.”

“Wouldn’t want it to.” You muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed to be nude from the waist down in front of your friend. He smirked slightly grabbed his phone as he aimed it to film your crotch area.

“Don’t say that—not when you’ll end up begging for more.”

You didn’t even get to retort that as you felt his finger rub against your clit. Your breathing hitched as he was slow with his touch, teasing your outer lips. Down and up, small strokes, and a light push.

You could see why these videos got viewers—it was driving you crazy each time he teased your clit before pulling away. Your hips began flinching slightly, subconsciously trying to rub your pussy against the palm of his hand.

“Did I say you could do that?”

You instantly froze, dropping your hips right back down on the bed.

“Good boy.” He whispered, making sure the phone didn’t pick it up.

What the fuck?! That… that was for you alone, right? While you were reeling at how easily he could command you, you cried out feeling two fingers shove itself inside your hole.

His fingers moved fast, spreading you open. You didn’t even realize you weren’t hiding your whimpers as you tried to calm down from the sudden pleasure. Your legs twitched and spasmed, fingers digging into the bedsheets for some sort of stability.

But then he stopped. Just as fast as he started.

He ended the video and wiped his fingers against your thigh, smirking. “Alright, last video, then that’s it. You doing alright?”

“H…huh…?” You could only sputter out, reeling in shock.

“Starting video now.”

You glanced down, watching as he pulled out his cock from his sweatpants. Oh, he was.. a bit big. His cock flopped right against your pussy, causing you to shudder in response.

It wasn’t that you were a virgin… but fuck, you were embarrassingly excited to have his cock so close, just inches away from your hole.

“Condom?” You whispered

He didn’t answer, subtly shaking his head. You watched as he started the new video and placed his cock right against your pussy. You couldn’t look away, wanting to see if you could really take in something so thick and long.

But he didn’t.. push in?

With his free hand gripped tightly on your hips, he began rubbing his cock right against your pussy. You whimpered, biting your lip to try and keep your voice down.

You tried to rub against him but he held you down easily with his hand on your hips. It surprised you that he could do that with just one hand but you weren’t complaining.

“You want it, huh? Just look at it,” he moved the phone down to get a good look at your soaked pussy. “Never seen someone this wet for me. I’m flattered, baby.”

His hand released your hips and he suddenly stopped moving. You looked over to him, wondering why in god’s name he would stop. But all you saw was a shit eating grin. He wanted you to do the rest.

Any sort of self respect you had was gone. You just wanted to cum already.

You began to move your hips, rubbing your pussy against his cock. A few times, by pure luck, his cock threatened to push inside—but each time he’d fix his cock. Why would he let you get fucked?!

No matter, you reached down to begin rubbing your clit, needing some form of stimulation when he grabbed your wrist.

“I thought you were a good boy?” He asked, a false sense of sadness in his tone. “C’mon, be good for the camera.”

Once again, he made sure only you heard that. Why’d he keep doing? To rile you up? You’re already close anyway.

But then he stopped…? Again?!

“All done. Thanks again, man.” He patted your tummy and got up, pulling his pants over his cock. You wouldn’t deny that you felt your word shatter seeing it being covered by those stupid excuse of pants.

“That’s…?”

“I’ll send you your cut by the end of the week!”

He was leaving? After all that? He was just going to leave without fucking you? You quickly sat up on the bed and grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving. He didn’t turn over to face you, keeping his gaze on his phone.

“Wait… that’s it..? N..nothing else?” You whispered breathlessly, needing release, quickly. And you didn’t want to rely on some plastic dildo when there was a real thing just a few inches away.

“Yeah. I just needed two videos for this month. Why?”

“I… I…”

“Begging for me?” He asked, cheekily, looking up to finally look at you. “C’mon, use your words. What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“Do I? Because if you don’t say it, I’ll do what I want with you.”

It didn’t take long for him to make you cum. As soon as his cock entered your pussy, you came. And then he really did what he wanted with you. You were too far gone to really think as it happened, but you were sure he took many pictures after, enjoying the sight of your cream filled pussy.

You certainly helped him again, and a few times after that…

Though… you’re starting to wonder…

You can’t find his and Julie’s twitter account…

And when you, embarrassingly, asked Julie—

She said they deleted the account when they broke up

Ooh. Spooky lol, what can I say? I love manipulative men…

Tag list: @flurrina @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @remdayz @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @iwishtobeacrow @smellwell @tomoeroi @tehyunnie @love-kha1 @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience

[moonstruckme]

Omg Mar I’ve just read your first time with James and I love it! Could you write something similar with Sirius? I just think that the first time with him would be very different from James but equally fluff!

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: smut mdni, inexperienced reader, reader has pubic hair

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“You okay?” 

You rip yourself forcibly out from inside your own head, looking down at Sirius. His lips are kiss-swollen and parted slightly, eyes of almost all pupil inspecting your face. 

“Yeah,” you say. “Why?” 

Sirius’ eyebrow twitches. You know he doesn’t believe you. “You got sorta tense, all of a sudden.”

You lay your head back on the pillow, sighing. “Sorry. I’m just a bit nervous.” 

He melts in the face of your unease, setting his chin down on your stomach. “Don’t be sorry. What’s making you nervous, sweetness?” 

You toy with your bottom lip. Truthfully, you’re not sure. You’re beginning to wonder if you’ve initiated all this before really thinking it through. 

It’s not like Sirius hasn’t seen you naked before; he’s lying across you now with his chin denting into your belly and his fingers playing idly with your pubic hair. You’re not necessarily worried about the pain, either, after all the time Sirius has spent getting you ready with his touches and his tongue. Your cunt is weeping and desperate, and the sight of your boyfriend, nude and beautiful and already hard from touching you, makes you feel just as needy. 

“It’s new,” you say. That’s what it boils down to. It’s new, and you want it to be nice. 

Sirius’ eyebrows pinch. Not in confusion, but in understanding. “I know. I know it is, baby.” He kisses beside your belly button, sweet and lingering, like a promise. “You know I’ll take care of you, yeah?” 

His phrasing makes blood rush to your cheeks. “Yeah,” you admit. “I know.” 

“Good. And we can stop if you don’t like it.” Sirius’ eyes glint with smugness as his lips quirk. “But I think you’ll like it.” 

You grin back at him, and your brain starts to buzz with both giddiness and anxiety. “Yeah?” You take a breath. “Prove it.” 

He blinks. “Really? You ready?” 

“Do it before I change my mind.” 

“Not really what I’d like to hear,” he says, but he’s unwrapping a condom. You watch fascinatedly as he rolls it up his length and lines up over you. “Are you really sure?” 

You look him in the eyes, letting him see that you mean it. “I’m sure.” 

“Okay.” Sirius’ hands find your hips, steadying himself or you, you’re not sure. “Okay, baby, I’ve gotcha.” 

You feel yourself tense when the head of his cock brushes through your folds, spreading slick around your entrance. You try to relax. Sirius bends over you and pushes in all in one motion, swallowing your small sound of surprise with his mouth on yours. 

“That’s my girl,” he says, voice already a tad hoarse. You’d laugh at him if you didn’t feel a tad hoarse yourself. “How’s that, honey? You okay?”

You hum, trying to reckon with the feeling of him inside of you. It is new. Different than you’d expected, but not bad. Far from bad. 

You tighten your cunt experimentally, and Sirius gasps. 

“Fuck—let’s not do that just yet, okay? Trying to last more than a fucking minute here.” 

You laugh. It feels odd and yet so perfectly right, laughing in bed with your boyfriend, the both of you naked and vulnerable and yet your same ridiculous selves. 

Sirius grins down at you, planting a kiss on your lips. “Ready for a bit more, sweetness?” 

“Wait, is that not all of it?” 

“Ha, ha.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Go ahead.” 

Despite your joking, Sirius watches you carefully as he pushes in further, stopping when you tense. 

“Oh.” Now it’s a stretch. Not quite painful, but getting there. 

Sirius’ hand moves to your side, sweeping up and down pacifyingly. “There?” 

“Yeah, I think. Is that all of it?” 

He chuckles. “You’ll know when it’s all of it, babe.” 

You blow out a breath. “How much more is there?” 

“Not much.” His touch creates a warm trail up and down your waist, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “You can handle a bit more for me, yeah?” 

“I think so,” you say waveringly. 

“You can,” Sirius assures you. “I know you can, baby. I’ve got you, okay?” 

You push out a breath, letting his certainty bleed into you. “Okay.” 

It goes quicker than the other pushes, and you do know when Sirius is all the way inside you. His pelvis presses into yours, closing what space remains between you. You choke on a gasp. 

Sirius’ hands are soothing and searing, one holding your shoulder while the other slips down to grope your ass. He smears kiss after kiss onto your face. Soft, sweet praises murmured against your cheekbone. 

“I’m okay,” you tell him. 

“Yeah?” He looks at you severely, relenting only when you nod. “You did so good, baby,” he says, lips finding yours. “I knew you would. So good for me, my good girl.” 

The words warm you like they knew he would. Sirius beams at you and kisses your cheeks while you squirm underneath him. 

“You were right,” you say. “I do like it.” 

He chuckles at that. “That’s good, sweetheart, but we’re not at the best part yet. Do you want me to show you?” 

You nod eagerly. 

The sound that tears from your throat when Sirius drags his cock backwards, making you tighten on him like a vice, is too mortifying to be borne. Your boyfriend reacts like he’s just unwrapped a gift, grinning before he thrusts back into you. 

He does this several more times, eliciting several more sounds which you vow never to think of again, before he brushes up against something sweet inside of you. 

You clench around him, one hand flying to your mouth to smother your moan. 

Sirius makes a low, satisfied sound. “Here, huh?”

He finds it again. You think you’re barely even a person at this point, just a collection of nerve endings that your smug boyfriend knows just how to use. Your brain buzzes like that’s all it remembers how to do. 

“Aw, baby.” Sirius kisses you, laughing against your lips. “I told you you’d like it, didn’t I? Sit tight, sweetness, we’ll see just how much liking we can get out of you.”

[chuuyasheaven]

“ ➸ Nothing matches your touch !! ”

SCENARIO. Chuuya was on a week long mission, and you missed him and his touch very dearly. You tried to wait for him but couldn’t, even hearing his voice through the other end of the line was turning you on. You tried touching yourself but he does it the best, so once he’s back, he gonna make up for those touches you were longing for.

TAGS. C. NAKAHARA / FEM! READER, husband! Chuuya, wife! Reader, pet names, masturbation mentioned, eating out, p in v, praise, overstimulation, slight teasing?, they are fucking but making love at the same time (if it makes sense), short probably, grammar, etc.

NOTES. This was started on the morning of my math final, idk when I’ll finish it (I FINISHED IT ON SATURDAY!!’) .. enjoy! And were are JUMPING into the story :3

Your fingers were running through his ginger locks as he grabbed onto your waist, never letting you go while his lips were on yours. It’s been only a week but it felt like several weeks going by slowly. Chuuya couldn’t admit how much he missed you, how much he missed your touch on his body. But you had no problem to, you were telling him that as soon as he went through that door.

“Missed me that much, sweetheart?”, he asked in a teasing tone as he placed you on the bed. He knew you did, way more than he probably did. You nodded as you leaned back, waiting for his next move. Chuuya got his knee between your thighs when he also got on the bed, hovering over you with a smirk. “Want me to make up for every night I wasn’t here?”, Chuuya didn’t really give you a chance to answer that, he simply just kissed you again, god how much he missed those soft lips of yours. When he pulled away once more, he shoved his knee against your cunt slightly, you let out a strained whimper at that. “Fuck, you’re probably wet right now, aren’t you?”, you nodded desperately, getting more worked up as more time passed. “Please, Chuuya, I missed you.”, the lust in your voice made his dick twitch in his pants. “Don’t worry, I got you, baby.”, he cooed.

The shorts you were wearing gave him easy access to remove them quickly along your panties. “Did you try to touch yourself while I was gone, doll?”, you nodded slowly, waiting for him to finally touch your wet cunt. “It didn’t feel as good as you do.”, Chuuya placed a quick kiss on your lips before slowly going lower to sit between your thighs. “Yeah?”, you nodded again as you felt Chuuya caressing your thighs while spreading them to get closer to your cunt. “Can’t wait to taste you again.”, he admitted with slight excitement, digging into your cunt immediately. Once he started to eat you out, your head threw itself back in pleasure. Chuuya ate you out like a starved man, god, he didn’t know how he survived so long without tasing you for about a week. Your fingers found themselves tangled up in Chuuya’s red locks again, unintentionally pushing him in deeper. His hands found themselves on your thighs and held onto them for more stability. “Ah– Chuuya, I’m close!”, you moaned out, this only made him eat you out sloppier, his tongue knowing which places to hit to make you see stars. Your thighs began to slightly shake, the knot in your gut was close to snapping, and Chuuya kept on giving you more pleasure until you cum undone on his tongue. “Fuck, c’mon, cum on my tongue, doll. Let me taste you more.”, his words rather muffled as he was still between your thighs, still very close to your cunt. The vibrations from his words sent you over the edge, making you cum almost instantly. When Chuuya got back up from between your legs, he was smirking, licking up any of your essence that was trying to escape. “Good girl,”, he praised you, walking towards you slowly while undoing his belt. “Ready for the rest? Or are you already tired?”, Chuuya knew the answer to that one, and his guess was confirmed when you gave him a short response on it. “N–no. Please, I need you so bad.”, all he could do was chuckle low as he was staring down at you, his cock hard and excited. “Yeah? You need me this bad, sweetheart?”, Chuuya bent halfway down to get close to your face, stroking his cock slowly before lining it up. “Want me to fuck you as good as I can, hm? You want me to make you scream my name as loud as you can?”, Chuuya whispered against your lips as his tip was teasing your now sensitive cunt while he was talking dirty to you, slowly letting it drag itself up and down your folds. His teasing got you even wetter than before, you were whimpering from the stimulation he was putting you through. “Chuuya. . please.”, you begged him in a desperate whisper, making him smirk.

“Please what, baby? Can’t wait any longer?”, you shook your head, he chuckled low once again, pressing his tip on your cunt, not pushing it in just yet. “So desperate f’me. . I can feel how wet you are, baby. Who am I to make you wait any longer?”, and with that, he pushed himself in slowly, capturing your lips into a kiss quickly before cursing under his breath. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight for me, you might squeeze me dry, doll.”, Chuuya started to move, starting off slow so you would get used to the feeling. Soon enough, he started to get faster, chasing after your orgasms. You had to grip the sheets from how fast he was getting, his tip continuously hitting your sweet spot. God, you might never get over how big he actually is. “You’re doin’ so good, princess.”, he praises in between grunts and thrusts, his grip on your waist tightening. All you managed to do was to scream out his name in between moans, locking your legs around his waist to get a better angle. It didn’t take long for you to feel your second climax nearing itself, clenching down on his cock at least twice. “Chuuya!”, was all you managed to say that wasn’t slurred. Chuuya, on the other hand, was grunting from all this, he wasn’t able to fuck you this good for a week! His cock started to twitch inside your overstimulated cunt, letting him know that he was growing close too. “Chuuya, g–gonna cum!”, you warned him again, Chuuya was speeding up even more. “Can you hold on f’me, princess? Promise I’ll make this fast.”, you nodded, trying your best to wait for him. After a couple of fast thrusts, which hit your sweet spot way too good, he felt himself starting to cum. “Cum, sweetheart! Fuckin’ cum for me.”, his cock was twitching inside you again as you finally came over it. While Chuuya was emptying his load into you, the last couple of curses fell under his breath. “Fuh–huck. .”, your tight grip on the sheets got loose again, both of your chests falling up and down from breathing heavily after the session you both had.

“ You did so good for me, baby. Let’s just stay like this for a little, yeah? ” ♥

[carmenberzattosgf]

carmen who’s so obsessed with you…and how he keeps fucking into you even after he’s cum…overstimulation settling in and he doesn’t even care…his eyes welling up with tears but he keeps going…“lemme—one more, baby, jus’ one more, s-so good, don’ make me pull out yet jus’ one more f’me”

Oh my god. Yes. Anon I LOVE you.

Carmen would fuck you for hours if he could. He’s obsessed with you. The sound of your whines is music to his ears. Every single moan spurs him on to go faster. Deeper. Harder. The way your wet cunt squeezes around his cock feels like heaven.

He relishes in the way you cry out when he spills inside of you. Your body tenses and you fall over the edge. You dig your nails into his back, into his hair. Basically into any part of him you can grab. Your skin is on fire.

Carmy doesn’t want to stop. Not yet. His hips thrust sloppily into you, still. He’s lost the precision of his movements, but the strength behind them hasn’t subsided. “Shit– Carm. C-Carmy”

His eyes stare down into yours. Whimpers leave his throat with every thrust like each one pains him. You can make out tears swelling up in his eyes. He’s so overstimulated he can barely speak.

“J-jus’—fuck. Gimme one more baby–“ He’s struggling to keep going, the veins on his neck bulging out from tension. The sound of his cock plowing into you fills the room. His cum makes a mess all over the sheets as it drips out of you. Carmy’s eyes drop down to the sight. Your thighs are covered in him. His cock aches inside of you. He needs you to cum again.

“Can’t, Carm— I can’t—“ you beg him. It’s too much. All the sensations overwhelm you.

“Come on baby—you’ve been doing s-so fucking good f’me. Don’t wanna pull out u-until you cum around my cock again.” His tears are more obvious now, threatening to spill over his lashes. He’s so fucking desperate. He needs to feel you cum for him one more time. Clumsily, he rips one of his hands away from holding your hip, and places his thumb on your clit. His callused thumb rubs quick uncoordinated circles on the bud, aided by the slick of his cum. “Cum f’me baby. Let go a-around me. B-be a good girl and cum.”

Your legs quiver as you fall into pleasure, hooking around Carmen’s waist. Stars explode across your vision. You’ve never cum this hard before; you gush around his cock this time, soaking the sheets even more. Your needy whimpers fill the room as Carmy finally slows to a stop inside of you.

His face rests in the crook of your neck as he tries to catch his breath. His cock twitches inside of you still. You reach your hand up to thread through the curls at the nape of his neck. He’s covered in sweat but you couldn’t care less. “Holy fuck, Carmy— I’ve never—“

He cuts you off before you can complete your sentence. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” His voice is muffled in the skin of your neck, but the arousal in his voice is clear. “Wanna do it again. W-want to feel it on my tongue. Taste it.”

You can imagine the sight before you right now. Carmy with his head between your thighs. His tongue lapping at your center, taking breaks to beg for you to gush on his tongue. You press the thought back. Not right now. “Woah, woah, woah. Next time. Yeah? I think right now we need to worry about getting up.”

“Just wanna stay inside of you. Please?” Carmy always gets like this after he cums. He craves the skin to skin contact afterwards, not wanting to pull out of you too soon.

“Carmy. I’m covered in cum, and so are you. Let’s shower, and then sleep in the spare room. Come on. Get up.”

“Fine.” He sighs, finally lifting his head to look you in the eyes again. You don’t think you’ve ever seen his pupils blown so wide. “But I’m serious. Want to make you squirt on my tongue next time.”

You both make the shower quick, ready to go to sleep. When you both slip under the sheets in the spare room, you answer Carmy’s question before he can get all the words out.

“Baby? Can— can you—“

“Yeah.” Wordlessly you move to straddle his hips as Carmy lays on his back. His cock is still somehow semi-hard. Slowly, you sink down onto him all the way the hilt. You both sigh as he bottoms out inside of you. You lay down on top of him, chest to chest, as his arms wrap around you. The gentle movements of his breathing lulls you to sleep, safe in his arms.

[b3ach-bunn7]

FORWARDS BECKON REBOUND

You find Dabi bleeding out on your front porch. Despite recognising his face from the five o'clock news, you take him in.

angst, villain dabi, quirkless reader, Dabi POV

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He should’ve killed you the minute he’d woken up. 

Left your house burning blue with you inside of it, before you even had a chance to run. But it had been Dabi who’d passed out outside your house, and it had been you who lugged him inside, lanky bones and all, so he felt some obligation not to do it. He was barely conscious, just awake enough to hear you mumbling curses under your breath as you scrounged through your cupboards for a first aid kit. 

It wasn’t a nice way to go, bleeding out on a random street. It was embarrassing, the famed cremation villain dying to a knife wound that hit a little too deep. He’d killed the man who’d stabbed him, of course, but that fact that he would kill Dabi was what had him praying to a God he didn’t believe in that he’d live. Maybe it was a fitting death. A person like him, bleeding out with the dirt of a flower bed slipping down his shirt, only the sounds of the night echoing in his ears. 

And then you appeared.

Wearing scrubs that fit too loosely over your body, a puffer jacket and a scarf covering the lower half of your face. He had enough energy to wonder why someone like you, someone that looked down at him with so much worry etched on your face, was in a neighbourhood like this, one where people like him lurked. You dropped your bags, abandoned the scarf and the coat and dropped to your knees. He’d watched your scrubs soak with blood as your hands hesitated in front of him.

“God. Fuck. What do I- Fuck.”  You grabbed your scarf and wrapped it tightly around his chest and then you slipped your arms under his, groaning at his dead weight. 

“This is my good deed for the day.” You huffed, starting the slow drag towards your home.

And he’d passed out after that, he thinks. Everything is very jumbled up but he supposed that’s what happens when you’re bleeding to death.

And when he woke up he thought he might be in heaven. A heaven that was very cluttered and full of way too many pictures hung up on the walls. His head was killing him, and his chest fucking hurt.  He was sprawled on a couch too small for him and his legs were touching the floor. He tries to rise and he stops, immediately, cursing at the shot of pain that spreads through his body.

“Oh no, don’t get up! The stitches will pull.” 

He turned his head to the source of the voice and it's you.

On your knees, scrubbing at the blood stains on your floor. The sleeves of your hoodie were pulled up past your forearms and you were wearing shorts that rode up your thighs. He would’ve made an inappropriate comment about the sight of your legs but he has no idea who the fuck you are.

“I- I’m a nurse so don’t worry, the stitches are done right. That’s for you, too. You should drink it, you lost a lot of blood.” You laughed nervously, pointing at the coffee table.

There was a juice box waiting for him. He didn’t grab it though. Just kept staring at you, silent.

“Uh. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You hand twitched like you’re about to offer it to him, but you decided against it.

There’s no way you don’t know who he is. Dabi’s face has been plastered on the news more times than he can remember, and his face isn’t one you can forget. He watches you now, your eyes flitting from his face to his chest. You sit back on your knees, rubbing at your face with your clean hand.

“I- I can make you some food. If you think you can stomach it.” 

What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t you know what he could do to you? How quickly he could kill you?

He moved to stand again and you got up that time, moving towards him. “Look, seriously, you can’t move. The stitches will open and I can’t deal with any more blood today.” You said.

Dabi cursed. You flinch at the deep gravel of his voice.

“I know you probably think I’m crazy. I just- You can stay, until you can move again. It’s fine. I just don’t want you dying in my house, please. Or on my driveway.” You breathed out, taking another step back.

Dabi looked at you again. You looked like he could take you out now, stitches and all. He’s sure if you were going to call the police, you’d have done it by now. And he can’t remember the last time somebody actually doted on him. So he made the incredibly stupid move of listening to you. 

He reached forward and snatched up the juice. He popped it open with his thumb, downing it in one go, squeezing the carton to get it all out. Dabi threw the empty carton on the floor when he was finished. He leant his head back on the couch, and drifted off quickly into sleep.

The first few days are spent in and out of consciousness. The times he is awake, he doesn’t speak to you, not unless he has to. When you ask him what size clothes he wears, when you ask if he has any allergies. It doesn’t stop you from talking though. It’s all you do, whether to a friend on the phone or just to yourself. 

The couch has become the place he spends most of the days. He doesn't move unless it’s for the toilet or to let you change his bandages. The one time he’d actually gotten up for longer than five minutes was so you could clean the couch, silently mourning the fact you’d have to get a new one once he was gone. His blood still stains your carpet though, faint but there, and he feels something he can’t describe at the fact a part of him will always exist between your walls.

The first time he does speak to you, he doesn’t even mean to.

“God, the lady at the pharmacy definitely thinks I’m a serial killer. I'm there for bandages and painkillers like, four times a week.” 

You sigh and drop the shopping bags on the floor. You’re in your scrubs again, blue this time, as opposed to the green ones he’d stained with his blood. You run to the kitchen to grab a wet cloth and the antiseptic, and Dabi sits up gingerly on the couch.

He isn’t exactly healed, but you’d assured him once he could be conscious for longer than an hour that the cut wasn’t as deep as it seemed. It still hurt like a bitch, though, and his stitches still stung as he pushed himself up. YYou kneel in front of him, carefully unwrapping the bandages around his chest. You keep your distance, just close enough so that you can reach him. The bandages stick to his skin and you make quick work of cleaning it, dabbing it with antiseptic. 

Dabi notices that you won’t ever look him in the eyes. Always darting around his face but never at him. You always linger on the scarred skin around his body, the staples hastily holding them together. You’re looking at them now, absentmindedly as you search through the bags for the bandages.

“My skin gross you out, lady?”

Your eyes do look up at him then, and Dabi feels like he should definitely talk to you more if you’re going to look at him like that. You laugh nervously and he tilts his head, blue eyes boring into yours.

“No, I just. Ha, no, I just haven't seen anything like it. The staples-” 

Your hand touches one gingerly and before you can move it away he grabs it with his own. He lets his hand heat up, not enough to hurt you but enough to let that lick of fear inch up your face, and he grins. Your hand is soft against the calloused, scarred skin of his, and he rubs his thumb up and down the back of it, watching the shiver you try and hide from him.

“Did I say you could touch?” He raises his eyebrows and you snatch your hand back. You turn away, inching just that little bit away from him.

“You didn’t complain about my touching when I dragged you from off my front porch.” You mumble under your breath.

His grin widens at that. “You got a mouth on you. But it’s okay, you can touch me anywhere you want, baby.”

Oh, that look. You were cute, he’d admit. He loved those shorts you were always wearing. Made your ass look amazing.

Your cheeks turn a delicious red. “I- Shut up. Let me finish.”

“Yeah, I’ll let you finish.”

“My god. Are you twelve?” You huff, placing the dressing over the stitches.

Dabi just watches you. He enjoys the way you squirm under his gaze. “You’re brave, sweetheart. You know who you’re talking to?”

You don't respond for a few seconds. “Of course. I’m not stupid.”

“Really? I’d say housing a villain in your house is pretty stupid.”

You say nothing, just gesture for him to sit up from the couch, where he was leaning against it. Like this, him sitting up and you still kneeling in front of the couch, he towers over you. It’s a compromising position, you fit in between his spread legs. Dabi can imagine you like this in another situation, maybe without the bandages and without that shirt you’ve got on.

You wrap the bandages around his chest silently. You finish, pinning it down so it doesn't come loose. You look back up at him. “It’s nearly been two weeks. If you wanted to kill me you would’ve.”

“Maybe I’m waiting until I’m all healed up. Really take my time with you.” He lets his voice drop, a low drawl.

You swallow. “I hope not. Would be a waste of my time if you did.”

Dabi scoffs. Your eyes trail back to his staples. He tugs at one and you wince. “Does- Does it not hurt?”

“Nah. Lost feeling a while ago. These staples are the least of my worries.” 

After that little encounter, Dabi takes to annoying you anytime he can. You’re avoiding him, he can tell, and it’s pissing him off. You spend every day holed up in your room while he has to sit on the couch like a fucking idiot and just wait. Maybe for you to call the cops on him, maybe for him to commit some heinous crime because he’s so fucking bored.

It’s why he starts trying to piss you off. Purposefully loosening his bandages, whining about the pain. You don’t complain, just dutifully bring him water, bring him whatever stupid request he asks of you. You’re being too kind, and he knows it’s fake. He wants to see how long it takes until you break, until that pretty polite smile you throw at him turns into that delicious anger from before. He wants your real emotions. Not this fake shit that makes him want to set the couch on fire.

Maybe it’s fake, or maybe Dabi can’t accept anything from anyone, not without them expecting something in return. And until he figures out what that is he doesn’t give a shit what you think of him.

It comes quicker than he thought. Only three days later, after he spent the entirety of your work phone call turning the TV higher and higher, until the show he was paying no mind was so loud you had to walk out the room. You’d come back out twenty minutes later and there it was, that frown he was missing.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You snap, snatching the remote off the coffee table to turn the TV off. Dabi just watches you, a small amused smile on his face.

You shake your head. “Don’t just fucking sit there. You’ve been trying to piss me off for the past few days and here, I’m giving it to you. Happy?” You yell.

You rub your eyes furiously. “I just- I don’t get it. I’m- I’m helping you, I kept you from dying. Why are you being suc-“

“Why?”  

His voice is enough to silence you completely and he likes what little control he has over you. 

“Why what?”

“Why the fuck are you helping me? I don’t understand you.” He says, watching you pace across the living room.

“Some fucking nobody in the middle of a shitty town in an even shittier apartment housing me. Why? Makes no sense to me, and I don’t like things that don’t make sense.”  

You stop. You flalter slightly. He catches it, the way your hands twist in the hem of your shirt.

“What, you expected me to let you die?” 

“Yeah. I do it a lot.”

“Yeah, well not everyone is a sick sadistic psycho like you are.” You snarl.

You seem to regret the words the second they leave your mouth. Dabi grins and you cross your arms and look away.

“Aw, don’t get all shy on me. I love that bratty mouth of yours.” You grimace at his words.

“Shut up.” You in breathe once. Purposeful and unsteady.

“I don’t know- Well I do know what you’re like. I guess all of Japan does. But I wasn’t going to let you just die on me like that. I don’t give a fuck who you are. Nobody deserves that.” You speak purposefully, trying hard to hide your emotion.

“And what are you expecting back?”

You look at him, then. And he sees something shift in your expression and you scoff.

“I don’t want anything back. I just did a good thing. I know that might be a foreign concept to you, but to us normal people it isn’t.”  

So bratty. He’d shut you up if he could move without popping a stitch. 

“Just.” You rub your eyes again. “Just stop trying to piss me off all the time. It’s working and it’s so fucking annoying.”

“And what makes you think I’m going to listen to you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the fact you’ve been living in my house for two week?”

“I don’t fucking understand you.”

“I don’t understand you. I mean, how much time and money have I spent on you? It took me ages to get all the blood out my carpet and my toilet. And you still fucked up my couch, even though I covered it up. You think I can afford a new couch? One not covered in blood? I just-“

You pause. Take another deep breath.

“I don’t really know why I’m doing this either. I feel weirdly obligated to. As a nurse, and all. And- I don’t want the hassle, and the attention that would’ve been brought at my door if i had called the ambulance. And I’m sure you wouldn’t have either. So just do me a favour and stop making it so difficult.” 

He stares at you. The slump of your shoulders and he thinks the emotion he’s feeling is pity, or something similar. He doesn’t really know and he doesn’t really care.

But he still wants the healing, and he wants that really good ramen you made the other day. So he shrugs.

“Whatever.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Fucking hell.”  You mumble, stalking off into the kitchen.

Things change after that. You slowly start to spend more time with Dabi. Which might be an overstatement. You sit on the loveseat beside him. Usually reading or catching up with work or throwing too much commentary at a show he’s watching. You catch him staring at your book once and you hold up the cover to him. The title reads, ‘The truth behind the Commission’.

“Quite the problematic read.” He nods and you smile slightly.

“I guess. I like this author. He doesn’t bullshit.”

“You hate heroes, then?”

You shake your head quickly. “‘No. Well. I don’t hate them, I just. There’s a lot of things wrong with hero society. A lot. And I think a lot of heroes get away with shit they shouldn’t because of that title. I don’t know. It’s all fucked, and I’m not gonna sit here praising them just because they do good things. Doesn’t make them good people.” 

He doesn’t reply that quickly and you look sheepish. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

He makes a noise. “Nah, I loved your little anti-hero rant. The league could use a girl like you.”

Your face pales and he barks out a laugh. “Don’t say that!”

After that you start leaving books on the coffee table for him. He doesn’t thank you for it. 

The second time Dabi decides he’ll trust you happens quickly. There’s a box of pizza in front of the two of you, and you’re both not paying much attention to the TV. He’s more looking at you, the way you twirl a strand of hair around and around your finger, bite at your top lip when you’re thinking. Then your face frowns.

“Ew. Pass me the remote.” You hold your hand out to him.

He looks at the TV, and there’s daddy dearest. It’s a documentary, he thinks. Some stupid shit that praises the worst man in the world because he’s a ‘good hero’. He’s got his reason to hate him. But the look of disgust on your face is more delightful than it is confusing. 

“What? Not a fan of our number two hero?” The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth but the look on your face washes it away.

“Fuck no. There’s something about him I don’t trust. I don’t fucking like that guy.” You frown, quickly changing the channel. “I miss All Might.” 

He doesn’t reply to that. He doesn’t know what he’d say if he did.

And then Dabi realises he actually likes being around you. Especially when you’re always staring at him when you think he doesn’t notice.

“You know, I bought you shirts, too.” You speak the words quickly and without making direct eye contact.

Dabi had taken to not wearing any, despite the fact you had bought him some. He only wore  different sweats you’d bought him, slung low on his hips. He always ran hot anyway, and you never complained until now.

He grins. “Aw, this ain’t a pretty sight for you?”

“No, of course not!” 

You face flushes and Dabi leans a little further down on the couch, letting his sweats drift a little lower. Dabi knows he’s fit, and he knows the distinct shape of his V line is what’s making you avoid his form on the couch entirely. He’s not stupid, he’s caught you looking before.

“Right, I didn't mean that. I was just wondering. You know?” 

“Right, right. Don’t worry, baby, I wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable. Be a doll and pass me that shirt, yeah?”

You nod. So obedient, he thinks. He grabs the shirt from your hand, letting his fingers drift against yours. You hand twitches slightly and Dabi smiles, sickly sweet.

“Thanks.” 

“S’fine.” 

When you give Dabi the green light to get up and move, he waits for you to go to work so he can thoroughly snoop around your house. He walks his way around the living room that he's grown too accustomed to. He doesn’t care about the kitchen or the toilet he’s been to a million times. Where he really wants to explore is your bedroom.

You’re so stupid. Letting a villain like him in your house. His hand trails over your dresser, the souvenirs and trinkets from holidays and birthdays. There’s even more pictures in here and you’re so loved he can feel it through the paper. You’re always smiling, teeth shining and impossibly bright and for a split second he wonders what you’d look like smiling at him like that.

Your room is quite messy and it doesn’t surprise him. Clothes littered all over the floor, books and a makeup bag scattered over your desk. Your bed is hastily made and your sheets are a soft pink. And he can see you on it begging for him so prettily, so obedient like you always are for him. 

He opens your bedside tables drawers, searches through the junk for something. He doesn’t even know what. There’s old movie stubs and receipts held together with a bobby pin. A postcard from someone called ‘Becky’ in Italy. Some empty lip gloss tubes and a candle burned down to the bottom. Then he sees a small rock. Hidden beneath the postcard and a letter telling you to go to the opticians. Shiny and blue just like his eyes, his flames. He turns it in his hand for a second, the smooth surface cool on his skin, before pocketing it swiftly. 

You don’t notice when you get home. If you do, you don’t say anything. 

You only get bolder in your approach with him after that. You start sitting on the couch with him. You ask him stupid small talk questions. What’s his favourite colour, his favourite food. And if you see how incredibly weird the whole situation is you don’t comment on it, so neither does he. Dabi feels more like a roommate than a patient now. You both don’t bring up the fact he’s healed enough to leave. You tell him he needs a few more days and he lets you lie.

“It’s nice having someone else in the house.” You say one day.

The two of you were on the couch, just that bit closer than the time before. Dabi’s arm rests on the back of the couch, and if he moved just a little to the left he’d be touching you. 

“What?” 

You shrug. “I get lonely, you know? All my friends live miles away, and the same with my family. I don’t know anyone around here.” 

You turn to him then, and shoot him a small smile. 

“It’s nice having company. Makes my house feel lived in.”

“Even if it’s a big old villain?”

You roll your eyes. “Haven’t been very villainous though, have you?”

“It’s never too late, baby.”

It’s the beginning of the end when he starts to do stuff for you.

It’s nothing crazy at first. He sees dishes in the sink so he puts them in the dishwasher. There’s a load of washing in the washer so he puts it in the dryer. He's just bored. He hasn’t left this house in weeks now, and while he likes the stress-free environment, he’s starting to feel antsy. 

And then he saw your face once, looking at the empty washer like he’d given you a diamond ring. And it felt good that he put it there. And Dabi decided it couldn’t hurt to pull his weight a little more around the house. If you’d look at him like that again he’d do anything you asked for.

You come home at three in the morning one night. Stupidly, he thinks. The area you live in is not a safe one, but it’s hardly his problem if you get kidnapped on your way back. When you walk through the door, the lights are all low and you stumble, mumbling curses under your breath. You turn them on and Dabi thinks you look perfect. Cheeks red from the cold, the dress you’re wearing slowly slipping up your thighs. The top is cut enough to make your tits look great, and you brush a strand of your hair out your face as you bend down to take your shoes off. He shouldn’t look, but really it’s all your fault for inviting a villain into your house. What did you expect?

You look up and your face lights up when you see him.

“Dabi! Oh my gosh, hey! I did- I thought you’d be sleeping.” You say the last word in a whisper.

And if that wasn’t tell enough that you were drunk, the way you almost fall walking to the kitchen is. You grab a water from the fridge, and Dabi watches as you down the whole thing in one go, drops of it dripping down your chin and your neck. You breathe heavily, chest heaving up and down as slump against the counter.

“God, I'm so thirsty. The drinks, I mean we had drinks. Of course! Mimosas and like, they were all pink and glittery. Can you tell I’ve been drinking?”

“Oh, not at all.” 

You grin. “Okay! Good! And then, this guy kept buying me drinks. So many drinks. The pink ones again. And I drank them. They were good, though.” 

You walk over to the couch and plop yourself next to him. Your bare thigh presses into his and Dabi lets it. He’s more focused on this little friend of yours buying you so many drinks than anything else.

“What guy?”

“Dunno. Some freak. I think- He was hitting on me. That's what my friend said to me.”

Dabi nods. “Mhm. You didn’t like him?”

You grimace, shaking your head.  “Ew, no way. He’s- He was so blond. And like, preppy. It was gross. He was gross.”

Dabi snorts a laugh. You grin at the sight of it. “Blond and preppy not your type?”

“No. No. I like.” You turn to face him. You cross your legs on the couch, tugging your dress down as it hikes up. You look at him quizzically before nodding your head, like you’ve figured something out.

“Actually, you are my type.” 

Dabi thinks he needs to get you drunk more. He likes the way you’re looking at him.

“Really?”

“Oh for sure. I like- You know like, emos.”

Never fucking mind. 

“I’m not emo, what the fuck?”

You laugh, loud and boisterous. “You so are! The black hair and, and the staples are like piercings. I bet you listen to heavy metal. Do you?” 

“Shut the fuck up.”��

You giggle, leaning over to rest your head on the couch. Your eyes travel down to his torso, exposed in the vest he was wearing. You reach a hand up, tracing it down the lines of his muscles, over the scarred skin. 

“Love your arms. So big. Can’t even wrap my hand around them.” You mumble. You demonstrate, taking a deep breath when your finger can't meet at the other side. 

“And. I like your voice. So raspy. It’s hot as fuck. And your eyes. So blue. Like the ocean. Like hat billie eilish song.”

He huffs a laugh. You look up at him, eyes shining from the light of the TV. You smile softly, hand still burning a hole on his arm. 

“Thanks if- for not killing me. And going all villain on me.”

Dabi hums. Sees your eyes trail down to his lips and back up to his face. 

“Never say never.”

“Shut up. Don’t say that. You’d never kill me. I’m too loveable.” 

“Too fucking full of yourself.”

“Wish I was full of you.” 

Your hands cover your mouth the second you say the words and you sit up suddenly. Dabi barks a laugh, and you whine, covering your face with your hands.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m so drunk. Oh my god.” You groan.

“Don’t worry, baby. We can make your dreams come true.” He smirks.

“Stop. Now. Before I die of embarrassment.” 

Dabi pats your shoulder. “S’fine, baby.” 

You slump a little, yawning loudly. You glance down at his hand that still hasn’t left your shoulder. “You're so warm.”

“It’s almost as if I have a quirk that produces fire.”

You roll your eyes. You turn slightly and lean against Dabi. He stiffens slightly as you adjust yourself, pulling one of your throw blankets down over your body. 

“The fuck are you doing?”

“I’m cold. You’re warm.”

“Go sleep in your bed, you idiot.”

“No. Don’t tell me what to do.” 

“The fuck?” 

You don’t say anything. Dabi looks down and your eyes are shut. He can feel your bare skin on his body. It’s so cool in comparison to his. That’s why he lets you stay there. He’s warming you up and you’re cooling him down. And you just stay there, sleep soundly like he isn’t a murderer, like he isn’t worth the same as the dirt on your shoes.

The next morning you don’t speak of it. Just rush yourself to the bathroom because, like an idiot, you went out on a Wednesday night like you didn’t have work the next day. 

Dabi realises he needs to leave when you almost kiss him.

You’re not drunk this time. He wishes you were. Wishes he could blame it on the alcohol coursing through your veins and not something else. This time, you aren’t both sitting on the couch like you usually are. You both stand at the big window in your living room, Dabi smoking a cigarette and you looking at the stars. It’s late, but it’s a weekend, so you don’t have anywhere to be. You’ve been talking and he’s been listening. The occasional response. He’s more focused on you, on the way the moonlight streaks across your face, the way you’re wearing one of the shirts you bought him. It dips down past your waist and he feels like you're his.

“Oh my god! You’ll never guess who came into work yesterday.” You turn to him excitedly.

“Who?”

“Remember I was telling you about that guy who kept buying me drinks?”

Dabi nods. “The blond one who’s not your type?”

You nod frantically. “Yes. He came in because he had to get tested for an STD! Can you believe that?”

Dabi scoffs. “Yes. Any guy buying pretty girls drinks is a guy that sleeps around.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” You coo.

“Gorgeous.” It’s meant to be sarcastic, but it comes out much more real than he’d hoped.

“Well, it’s no matter. I wouldn’t have gotten with him, drinks or not. I'm safe from any STD’s.”

Dabi takes another drag of his cigarette. “So harsh. It’s what’s on the inside that counts, I thought.”

“Not when it comes to a hookup. And not when there’s literally some-“ You cut yourself off. 

“When there’s what?”

“Nothing. Shut up.” 

Dabi rolls his eyes. He turns so he’s facing out the window completely, resting his elbows on the windowsill. He presses the cigarette into the wall beneath it. 

“Well, desperate times, baby. You wouldn’t believe some of the girls I’ve hooked up with.”

“I find it hard to believe you struggle to hook up with people.” 

Dabi barks a laugh at that. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. “You're hot. Isn’t that all guys need to hookup?”

“The whole ‘wanted villain’ thing scares people off. Usually.” He gives you a pointed look. “That, and the scars.”

You look at him and gesture at him to face you. You’re looking at him so intensely he feels nervous. Dabi, a serial killer with more kills under his belt than you can imagine, is nervous because of a silly little civilian.

“What’s wrong with them?”

“What’s right with them? They’re ugly, and they’re being held onto my face with fucking staples. Freaks people out.” He shrugs.

You furrow your brows. You look at his face, his arms, his chest. Where yes, he isn’t wearing a shirt again. The scar across it from a knife wound that feels years away.

“Shut up. Do you actually think that?”

Dabi tilts his head. “You don’t?”

“Of fucking course I don’t. They- You’re hot as fuck! I don’t understand why your scars would change that?” You splutter. And you look angry for him and Dabi feels his chest tighten.

“It’s alright, baby. I don’t care. My dick still gets wet when I need it to.” 

You wince. “Ew, Dabi. That’s gross.” 

“You’re gross for having a crush on a villain.”

You blush. “Shut up. I don’t have a crush on you.”

“Sure, sure.” 

Dabi can hear the sound of cars a few streets down. The breeze is light, and he can feel it rustling with his hair. He wonders if you notice the white of his roots peeking through. If you look enough to notice. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he feels your hand on his arm. Trailing up and around the divide of skin and scars. Your fingers trace over the staples. You touch him so gently. So softly. He wants to rip your hands off and lean into them all at once.

“Did I say you could touch?” He speaks quietly. You smile slightly, looking up at him for a second.

“I don’t hear any complaints.” 

You brush against the panes of his chest. Dance across the scar that will only ever remind him of you. Dabi thinks he leans into you. He wonders if you notice. You move up the sharp lines of his collarbone, the curve of his Adam’s Apple. And then your hands rest on his face. And they’re softer than his will ever be, free of the marks of his childhood and his days burning to quieten the noise in his head. Your hand curves against his cheek and he wonders if you can feel his heart beating as heavily as it is. 

Your fingers brush under his eyes. The small patch of purple skin that rounds them, like ever present eye bags. 

“Your eyelashes are so pretty. So long. I’m jealous.” You murmur.

Dabi doesn’t reply. He doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. 

And then you look at his lips again. Then back up at his eyes. And you look at him with so much emotion that he wants to gouge his own eyes out so he never has to think about it again. Never has to see you looking at him so tenderly. And when you lean forward, just that bit more, hand still on his face, he takes a breath. 

And then your phone rings, and the moment is shattered. You curse under your breath, fumbling around for your phone. You smile sheepishly as you brandish it at him.

“I’m sorry. It’s my mum. Give me a second.”

The two of you don’t meet at the window again. Dabi falls asleep to the sound of your voice in the next room.

He wishes you were horrible. Wishes you were annoying, or ugly, or maybe Endeavour’s number one fan. Instead you’re not. You’re funny and you’re a good cook. You’re fucking stupid for letting him into your life. You’re so kind. You start bookmarking the parts you think he’d like in the books you leave him and he wants to turn the pages to kindling. You talk to him like you actually give a shit what he has to say. Like you give a shit about him.

Dabi wants to leave a mark on you like you’ve left one on him. Because he’s seen the pictures hung around your house and you’re loved. You have your people, you have a place. You don’t need him. But Dabi? He hadn’t been to the league in however many weeks, and he hadn’t heard a peep. Nobody cares about him. Nobody has his picture up in their room. Dabi could’ve bled out in your driveway all that time ago and nobody would give two shits. 

He wants someone to give two shits about him. He wants you to give two shits about him. And it’s a thought that keeps Dabi up every night. Legs still impossibly too long for the couch, as all he can think about is how you’ve ruined him. You’re too fucking good for him. And he knows you’ll soon realise that. 

That’s why he leaves.

Dabi doesn’t know what you expected. That he’d stay? That you’d live together like this forever? He’s fucking realistic. He knows this goes nowhere. There’s a blue collar prick working in some construction site you’ll end up with one day. A man who you can introduce to your parents, one who won’t stain your carpets with his blood, who you can hang up on your walls.

Dabi takes nothing except for the clothes on his back. He waits until he knows you're asleep on those ugly pink sheets and he slips out silently. And he doesn’t look back as he walks away, as the sounds of life hit him properly for the first time in forever. He doesn’t look down at the front porch where he’d almost died, not at the flowers he’d destroyed when he’d collapsed on top of them.

He leaves before he can destroy everything else. Before he destroys you. You and your soft hands and your piercing gaze. He hates you. He hates you so fucking much he feels flames licking at his clothes at just the thought of you.

When he makes his way back to the league, nobody says much of anything. He stalks his way back to his own room. There’s no pictures hung up on the walls. It’s unbearingly small and it feels so lifeless. He lays down on a bed that fits him perfectly. Digs in his pockets for your stupid fucking rock, the same colour as his eyes, that you had hidden in that drawer. 

Dabi throws it across the room. He watches it hit the wall, skid under his dresser. He leaves it there.

——————————————————————-

yo ah really thought u could fix him 🤣🤣 I’ve been too nice to u guys recently so I had to mix in some angst 🙏 this is much longer than usual so I hope u like!

btw recently every title of the fic is based on the song I listen to while I write it so I highly recommend listening to it while u read these :P

I have been posting an INSANE. Amount. Like I think I posted once a day all last week and it’s all been about Dabi 😭😭 I’m very busy this week, so I fear my streak might be lost

lemme know if u want a pt 2!

[doki-doki-imagines]

tw: smut and fluff, use of safe word, breakdown (Michael), afab!reader.

author note: inspired by his current situation in the manga. And the fact that I miss him. "I miss my wife, Tails. I miss her a lot."

This wasn’t the first time Michael acted like this. Mouth biting into your neck, and hands furiously groping into your fat. Not even a hello before barging into your house, not a single care about what you were doing a second prior; he wants and takes.

You don’t mind that much, a rough fuck is a nice change and it’s not like he ever wants to hurt you, he just needs to release healthily some pent-up anger, and helping him out brings a lot of pleasure to you too. You don’t lose any time in the living room, your legs steady around his hips while he brings you to the bedroom, while his teeth mark the soft flesh of your neck.

The bed creaks under Michael’s thrusts, his strong fingers leaving indents on your skin, moans reverberating in the room. The blonde blue eyes never search for yours, his red eyeliner smudged in the corners. Michael bites his lips until he draws blood to not let any sound escape, something unusual since you tease him for how loud he usually is.

“Michael, red.” But more than that particular is different this time, something hurts and you need to take a break.

But he doesn’t stop, mind lost somewhere else, not with you. Thankfully you are in a position where you can easily move. You sit up, hand gripping his chin to finally be able to see him straight into his eyes. Michael doesn’t stop, if anything his trust only gets deeper, making you wince in pain.

“Stop Michael, you are hurting me.” There is no real anxiety in your voice, you trust him, but there is a hint of anger mixed with pain for obvious reasons.

It’s not the first time you used the safe word, but this time Michael cracks, hips finally stopping. His mouth falls into a deep frown, irises twitching and you can see a sea of anxiety into them, so deep and hurtful that soon fat tears roll down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry-“ He gasps out, hand covering his face, head down in shame. “I can’t make anything-I’m a fucking mess.”  Shivers run down his spine, muscles all over his body twitching and not of pleasure.

“Michael-“ You sit up on your knees after pulling him out. “Look at me.” You softly ask.  Michael refuses, face covered by his hand and soft strands of blonde and blue hair.  “Michael, don’t worry.” You coo, kissing the top of his head while hugging him, drawing small circles on his naked back. He keeps gasping in your arms, face still hidden, but this time in the nook of your neck.

“C’mon look at me, baby” Your voice is saccharine, trying to make him feel as at ease as possible. He doesn’t listen to you, blabbering excuses on your skin, tears now rolling down your back for how copious they are. “Shhh Michael.” You lift his face, your hands cupping his cheek to make sure he has to look at you. His eyes are red, and the pout hits you harder than a stab at your heart.

“It’s not about the safe word, right?” Michael shakes his head in your hand, eyes squeezed close, long blonde lashes sticking together due to the tears. You kiss his eyelid, as fast and as delicate as a butterfly, before asking your boyfriend to open his eyes.

“I think I may know a way to make you feel better? Wanna try?” Michael nods, one hand intertwining with yours before kissing between your palm and wrist.

You take it slow, your lips drifting from his cheek to his jaw, following an invisible path that will lead to his tranquility. Your hands push to his chest “Lay down baby, relax I’m here.” You whisper and it’s enough to convince him, relinquishing the control he so likes to have.

Your lips meet his, and you can taste the salt of his tears on them. It’s a slow dance, no hurry behind your movements, not in your kisses nor in the sweet caresses of your hands. You stroke his dick, grown soft due to the breakdown, making Michael mewl into your mouth, arching his back cutely under your movements.

You lower your core on his dick, making a soft whimper escapes both your throats. It feels so deep, filling you so perfectly you almost think you were crafted for each other. Your hips slowly grind into him, your hands finding purchase on his muscular thighs, immediately flexing under your soft fingers.

“Michael, you feel wonderful-“ You gasp, mouth shaped in a cute ‘o’. The blonde under you bites his lower lip, before looking away, not being able to hold your love-filled gaze.

“No, no baby.” Your hips stop moving while you crouch down a little, hands again on his face, turning it to you “Look at me, look at how happy you make me.”  Your lips are again on his, sucking on his tongue with no finesse, the calm of before brushed away from the passion blossoming into your heart. Your hands wander to his, still gripping into the white cotton covers, afraid to touch you.  

You pull his lower lips with your teeth before breaking the kiss “I wanna feel your hands on me.” It’s an order and Michael doesn’t have the strength to refuse, your softer hands on his rough ones, guiding them towards your waist.

“Only you-“ A gasp breaks your voice “Can make me feel like this” You start to raise your hips up and down his length, thighs already burning, not used to doing the hard work, your partner too used to be in control in any position.

Michael looks like a work of art under you, blue eyes a shade deeper thanks to bliss and lips a delicious shade of red. His abs twitch at your every moan and you can’t resist the temptation to caress them, feeling them under your hands before going to his chest and squeezing his pecs, and playing with his erect nipples that were just screaming for your attention.

You can’t go on for much more, your thighs burn and your apex is approaching, and not just yours.

“Michael, I-I love you.” It’s nothing earth-shattering, words that you both told to each other on various occasions, but a gear clicks in the blonde mind, his fingers gripping tightly onto your skin, for sure leaving signs that will be evident the next day.

He sits up, manhandling your legs around his hips, his forehead knocking against yours.

“Say it again.” He orders, voice hoarse. His hands gripping your middle again, his words sending a shiver down your back.

“I love you, Michael.” You whine, but the sound is broken by his lips on yours. His hands now forcefully pushing you up and down his length, giving you the possibility to fully enjoy him, for your mind to just be filled in pleasure. 

“You are so good-“ Your foreheads brushing against each other, sweat mixing and eyes tearing in pleasure, making it hard to open them up. He pushes you even more towards his body, making you feel every curve and twitch of his body against your softer one.

“I-I’m near-“ You blabber out, but you don’t need to add anything, his tattoed hand moving towards your clit, massaging it with a calm that doesn’t suit the actual situation.

“I love you too.” Michael mewls into your ear, licking the shell.

It's the straw that breaks the camel's back, you slump in his arms, the moans that leave your mouth a telltale sign that you reached your apex.

“Baby, hold on a little longer-“ Your boyfriend gasps, finally looking at you, with no trace of the previous shame.

You feel him twitch inside you, but you don’t feel as overstimulated as you should, your walls still gripping his thick length. Your eyes roll at each of his thrusts, now arhythmic and harsh, desperate for pleasure.

“Look at me.” You have no strength left in you, so Michael takes the matter into his own hands, holding your cheek, almost squeezing your face, not being able to perfectly control his strength.

“You are beautiful-“ He is able to whine one last time, before cumming, tension leaving his body, head turned back showing you his Adam’s apple bobbing.

He lays on his back, eyes closed, pushing you on top of him. His breath is frantic, still recovering from the orgasm.

“Wait-How are you?” His eyes snap open, looking at you remembering how he overstimulated you.

“No, Micha, don’t worry.” You caress his face, brushing away some blonde hair glued on his face due to the sweat. You pull yourself off from him, making you both groan a bit.

“I’m taking a bath, you wanna come?” You ask, smooching Michael on the cheek, your hand caressing his biceps, a gesture he seems to enjoy since he relaxes under your touch.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Michael brushes his eyes, red from the tears and the eyeliner being irremediably smudged.

“You want to talk about what happened before?”

“I don’t want to bother you with my shit.” Michael snaps back.

“It’s not shit, and I want to help you. When you are sad it’s like I get stabbed in the chest, you know?”  You reply your chin on his chest, pulling the best puppy eyes you can muster.

He looks down on you, thinking for a minute about it while brushing your hair, making you purr under his touch.

“Okay then, let’s talk about it while we bathe.” Michael accepts, kissing the top of your head.

You kiss him, a big smooch full of cheer. It’s always so hard to make him open up, but you hope the soft atmosphere will make him melt and finally open up to you.

[springnote]

Mike Schmidt x gn!reader smut

warnings: nsfw minors dni, cockwarming, teasing

Notes: it’s ambiguous of if its cockwarming in vagina or ass to be inclusive + let’s pretend Abby is hanging out at Vanessa’s house

You knew Mike was going to be tired when he came home, he usually was these days, even if he was feeling a little less depressed lately. He still hadn’t told you how exactly he lost his last job, but Abby has opened up more lately, and he seems less stressed since then, so you don’t question it much. Of course, you still loved to treat him to some private time when you could.

Sitting on his bed, you wait for him to come back home. You can’t help but grin a little, knowing he’s going to enjoy what you’ve got planned. As soon as you hear the door freak open, you shift a little on the bedsheets, sitting up a little straighter and tilting your head a little as you hear him walking down the hall.

“Hey (y/n), I’m back—” Mike starts with a sigh as he walks in, before pausing and looking at you.

You’re sitting there, in one of his large hoodies, and only in the hoodie. It smells faintly of his scent of light cologne and something a little woodsy, and you sigh as you bring part up to your nose to sniff at. He watches with large eyes as you spread your thighs, reaching down to your already wet and prepped entrance to trace your fingers a little.

“Hi Mikey…I’ve been waiting for you~” you say a little teasingly, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.

He looks bewildered, dropping his backpack to the floor and just blinking at you. It’s not a bad reaction at all though, and you can see his chest rising and falling a little harder as his hands flex.

“Baby…” he breathes heavily as he steps over, running his rough hands up your thighs to play with the hem of the hoodie, his hoodie. “You look so damn good…”

You gently pull him down onto the bed, and he gets the idea quick. He tosses his tie off, not even worrying about job searching right now as he grabs you. He yanks his pants and boxers down to his mid thigh, before slowly sinking into you. There’s barely any resistance since you prepped beforehand really well, and he groans at the welcoming warmth.

“Damn you’re tight,” he moans as he leans back against the headboard of the bed, closing his eyes as his brows scrunch together. “Just perfect, babe…”

You can feel him twitch a little inside you, and you shiver a little at the feeling. The fullness is comforting but also so arousing, and you bite your lip to hold back a whine. He doesn’t move at all though, his hands staying at your hips as he breathes heavily.

“Do you want me to take charge or do you just want to stay like this?” You ask gently, smiling a little as you lean closer to rest your cheek against his shoulder.

He looks down, giving you a sloppy kiss. His movements are a little sluggish and lazy, but you still moan into the kiss as he slowly runs his tongue over your bottom lip.

“This is good babe…let’s just stay like this for awhile…” Mike sighs again, pulling back a little to give you a drowsy smile.

You shift a little in his lap, feeling his cock twitch again at the movement. He holds your hips a little firmer now, but it’s not in a rough way. He grins lazily again at your teasing smile, a chuckle leaving him.

“Stay still babe, if you can do that for awhile, I’ll make it good.” He says with a bit of teasing to, giving a delicious roll of his hips that makes you moan and grip at his shoulders.

It was going to be a long night.