#landon tewers x reader

[thefallennightmare]

Back with another Landon thought since they don’t ever stop. This one is a bit sweeter than the last one I posted. Just sweet Landon.

18+ CW BELOW THE CUT(public sex, unprotected p in v, sweet but slight possessive Landon, praise kink, cock warming, and language)

The sun beat down on my bare back, covered by the thin material of my swimsuit; a cute olive green one. I adjusted my position from my stomach to lay on my back, needing to tan my front side. It was an off day from tour so everyone in The Plot in You camp decided to spend it at the lake. All of us had been working extremely hard the last week so a day outside relaxing in the sun, I was eager to get there; even though the files upon files of photos and videos I needed to edit were waiting for me on my laptop back at the bus. 

“Did you reapply sunscreen?” 

Raising my sunglasses, I raised myself on my elbows as I lay on the blanket in the sand to look over at Josh who was holding up a bottle of sunscreen. 

“Depends, are you asking to reapply for me?” I teased with a sly smile. 

He snorted before tossing me the bottle, me catching it mid air. My casual flirty banter was what I was known for. It was all in good fun and made things comfortable for me to be in a group of guys; as weird as that sounded. Everyone here made me feel welcomed when I first started four months ago which I was grateful for. They were all great friends of mine and the flirting was all harmless. 

Well, all were harmless but for one. 

As I rubbed the sunscreen into my red skin thanks to the tanning, I peered through my sunglasses over towards Landon who was resting in the water on a raft. The tattoos littered his chest and arms almost glowed with the water. I nibbled on my bottom lip when I noticed Landon was already watching me rub the sunscreen into the skin above my breasts. 

Things between us were different from the rest. 

It was always stolen glances, lingering touches, and the occasional finding ourselves stuck in an enclosed space together. But that’s all it ever was, much to my dismay. It was pretty evident I had feelings for Landon but was too shy with him to take it a step further mostly because it wasn’t clear what he wanted. 

Sure he would let his eyes burn as he drank me in or would playfully smirk at me when I was up on stage taking pictures of the band. But he’d never come out right and say anything. 

Noticing he was still watching me, I decided to test the waters with my plan and spread the sunscreen lower in the valley of my breasts. I slowly worked it into the skin while peeling away the fabric of my swimsuit slightly to press the sunscreen into the skin there. I wasn’t showing my full breasts but due to the angle where Landon was floating in the water, there wasn’t a doubt out in my mind he got a little peek. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he adjusted his hat and slowly began rising out of the water to walk up the sand towards me. Swallowing thickly, I glanced at him as he blocked the sun's rays with his large form. 

“Do you need me to get your back?” His voice was strained, almost as if he was trying to hold himself back. 

Phase one of my plan? Check. 

I took a deep breath to gather my courage, pushing away my nerves, and shook the bottle at him. “Do you mind?” 

Our fingers brushed when he took the bottle from me and I felt a spark surge through me when he motioned for me to lay back on my stomach. He sat on the back of my knees, both of his locking me in place on either side of me. The water dripped from his soaked shorts onto my skin, making me shiver. The water had been freezing when we first arrived a few hours ago and I refused to dip my toes in it. 

“Sorry,” Landon chuckled when he noticed me shivering underneath him. 

But it wasn’t only for the water but because of how he felt on top of me when he worked in the sunscreen on my back, working out the tense muscles as he went. I had to bite back a moan not only because of his fingers dragging down my back but because it truly felt euphoric as he massaged my back. 

“Is this okay?” He wondered, moving his hands lower. 

My swimsuit was a one piece but a lower exposed back and the bottom pulled up between my ass cheeks, almost like a thong. 

“Just as long as you cover all of me. I don’t need a handprint being tanned into my ass because you missed it,” I teased while looking over my shoulder at him. 

Landon’s eyes met mine and darted his tongue out to wet his lips when I mentioned my ass. His fingers ghosted over it, a teasing gleam in his eyes now. I froze under his touch, not because he was about to touch my ass, but the fact he could possibly see the wet spot between my legs. Teasing him and then having his hand all over me had worked me up and I couldn’t help the way my body reacted. 

The rest of the guys had parted from the beach and were all swimming in the water, meaning they couldn't hear us. Or see what we were doing unless they were close by. To them, it seemed like Lanodn was innocently applying sunscreen to my back for me. But to us, he was dragging a finger down my spine and over the swell of my ass. 

He leaned his tall body over my back so he could breath against the crook of my neck. “Green is your color, dove.” 

My heart lurched into my throat when his pet name for me lingered into my skin. The first time he uttered it to me was earlier in the week when we arrived at the first venue for the tour and we both found ourselves alone in the truck that held the equipment. I was helping unload and lifted a heavy crate to which Landon was there to grab it from me when I was struggling slightly. 

“Careful, dove. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

I blinked at him. “Dove?” 

Landon’s face twitched when he realized what he had said. “Sorry, it just slipped out. If you don’t like it or are uncomfortable, I understand.” 

“No!” I was quick to wave him off. “I-I like it.”

A wide smirk spread to his face, causing the skin next to his eyes to crinkle. “Good, because it stays. Dove.”

A soft breeze brushed over my skin even with Landon’s body heat wrapping around me as he still hovered. 

“I remember you mentioning you love the color green,” I admitted while removing my sunglasses so I could look up into those dark eyes. 

He hummed while brushing away a strand of hair from my face, applying sunscreen to me long forgotten as he laid his body next to mine. I let my eyes trace the designs of tattoos across his skin and tried so hard not to trace it with my tongue. 

“Can I be honest with you?” He asked while letting his inner battles win and traced his finger over my shoulder, tracing the patterns the freckles made. 

Even though the nerves ate away at me for what he was about to divulge, I did my best to nod. 

“The second I saw you step off the bus wearing this swimsuit I knew I wanted to fuck you in it,” Landon leaned forward to whisper in my ear. 

A moan fell from my lips as I kept my gaze from meeting his, not wanting him to know how bad I wanted that. 

His knuckle lifted my chin, giving me no choice but to look at him. “Can I?” 

Something about him being so sweet with his question made my insides warm, even though I was freaking out. 

“Won’t this make things weird for us?” I asked. 

“I don’t see how,” Landon’s hand was now resting low on my hip. “Something tells me you want it just as much as me.” 

Now I could help the teasing smirk as I rested up on an elbow so I could bring my lips closer to his. 

“I think you’re wrong.”

“The wet spot between your legs tells me I’m right, dove,” he faintly brushed his lips over mine before tapping my hip. “Face the water.” 

My eyes widened. “Wait, we’re doing it here?” 

“I can’t wait until we get back to the bus, Y/N. I’ve been forcing myself to not want you but I can’t do that anymore. I need to feel you,” Landon admitted before helping me turn to face the water while he laid behind me. 

My entire body was set ablaze knowing that he felt the same way I had. Months of flirting and dancing around each other led to this moment; us fucking on the beach while the rest of our friends could possibly see if they looked close enough. I made this known to Landon, who reached for another blanket we’d brought and laid it over our bodies to cover our lower halves. The sun was setting, bringing a slight chill along with it so it wasn’t odd. To everyone else, it seemed like we were taking a nap together.  

Landon’s fingers palmed my ass causing him to groan in the back of my head. 

“I’m sorry if I ruin your swimsuit,” he apologized while pulling it to the side so he could have full access to my pussy. 

“You’ll just have to buy me a new one,” I said. 

A soft kiss to my head. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, dove. If you let me.” 

He pulled out his cock from his shorts and brushed the head along my folds, causing my eyes to roll back as my forehead fell to the blanket. 

“Are you on anything?” Landon asked. 

I nodded while pressing my ass against him. “Please no teasing. I’ve been wanting this for a long time, Landon.” 

He said nothing, simply pressing himself fully inside of me causing us both to moan. At first his pace was slow, wanting to feel all of me as I clamped around his cock. I did my best not to move much, not wanting to give way to the others what we were doing underneath the blanket. Since Landon’s one arm was supporting my head now and the other gripping my hip, I held the bottom of my swim suit to the side so he could fuck into me. His cock was thick, filling me up completely and I desperately wanted to see how it looked. 

Another time. 

“Landon,” I moaned. “It’s so good.” 

His breathing was warm against my ear. “You feel just like I imagined, dove. I’m not going to last long.” 

I pressed a kiss to the colorful designs on his arm. “Neither am I.” 

Both of us moved slowly together, enjoying the sensual moment together as the sun set bathed us both in a glow of orange and purples. Landon left kisses along my neck as he pulled his cock nearly out right before filling me up again; over and over until I was able to finally let euphoria win as I gave into him. I bit the skin of his arm to muffle my yell when my orgasm hit, body writing against him. 

“You did so good, dove. Such a good girl for me,” Landon’s snaps of his hips were becoming more fast paced as he chased his own release. 

Movement caught my attention and I noticed that the rest of the guys were starting to leave the water, walking up to us, and Landon grumbled under his breath. 

“When we get back to the bus, I’m not letting you leave my bunk. I want you all for myself.” 

I rested the back of my head against his chest. “You have me, Landon. Now cum for me. Fill me up.” 

He made a low noise in the back of his throat as his cock swelled inside of me moments before he spilled all of him inside of me, coating my walls. Just in time because Ethan stopped in front of our blanket and looked down at us. 

“Are you guys done doing whatever it is you’re doing or can we eat now?” 

Landon flipped him off and pulled me closer to his chest by wrapping his arm around me. “Fuck off, Ethan.”

He made no move to remove his cock from inside of me as we allowed ourselves to fall into a small nap while the others started prepping everything for our fire barbeque. 

[artificialbreezy]

@thefallennightmare made the Landon brain rot so bad i’m just thinking about how he’d call you peach and be handsy but never any further.

until one night he sees you in that little skirt and next thing you know you’re bent over the bathroom sink while he’s saying, “you wear this for me? wanted me to get so riled up. got what you wanted, peach. spread your legs and let me take care of your aching cunt.”

[motimatcha]

the Forbidden fruit

NSFW: headcanons about your sex life. hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader That feeling when my drafts are almost halfway through the smut with Adam that I wanted to write, but at the last minute I stopped liking that text, so I switched to something else. Everything is (not) good. I wrote this text while listening to Landon Tewers - She Thinks of Me. the meaning of the song is not at all important and has nothing to do with the lyrics, I just liked the melody.

Adam has beautiful hands. Aesthetic. When he takes off his clothes and folds his arms across his chest, rests them on a surface, or carries heavy objects, his veins appear.

His fingers are thin and well-groomed, long, like those of a pianist, which Adam never was.

Just imagine the contrast it has on you during sex. His rough, sometimes wild, character and gentle movements of his hands that slide over your entire body while he whispers all sorts of dirty things in your ear. Imagine those hands touching your hips, squeezing your skin gently but noticeably to make you feel excited and excited, and then with a knee-baring grin, he leaves you unsatisfied.

Adam can and loves to tease. His hands pass dangerously close to your sensitive places, and his words are full of subtext and hints, which are sometimes not covered at all. And because many are accustomed to the character of Adam, who speaks complete nonsense, no one pays attention to the fact that Adam literally said that he would fuck you against that wall before entering heaven.

Adam sure has a sexy morning voice. He can lie on his back, finally finding a comfortable position without his wings getting in the way, one of his arms wedged under your body and resting on your side. He brushes the hair that is falling into his face back before turning his head in your direction. A smirk graces Adam’s face as he rolls onto his side and pulls you closer to him, allowing your two hot bodies to grind against each other. Adam wakes you up with a kiss behind your ear, slowly lowers himself to your neck and whispers some nonsense to you, but you don’t wake up or pretend to be asleep, he takes it as a challenge and the hand from your hip slowly slides down, straight into yours underpants.

Adam likes the cowgirl position when he's too tired but still wants you. This gives you both an imaginary sense of control: you control the speed of the process, Adam controls the movement of your hips.

He likes to look at your hips and butt, whether in tight pants/high-waisted shorts or skirts/dresses that contour your figure. Adam basically likes to look at you in tight clothes, style doesn't matter as long as you like it. Besides that, he likes to see his dick penetrate your body slowly or quickly (well, I mean, he likes to watch your pussy swallow his dick, let's be honest). He loves watching your breasts bounce rhythmically as you move. He loves the feeling of your fingers on his chest as you lean against him, finding a comfortable position.

If you don't mind having Adam's dick in you without having sex, then please allow him. He is overwhelmed by a feeling of unity that has not visited him since the time of Lilith and Eve.

Not against quick sex (or blowjob).

Speaking of fetishes, Adam loves creampies and he doesn’t hide the fact that he’s flattered by the idea of ​​impregnating you. And the latter is not so much a fetish as his sacred duty, because he seemed to be created for this? First man, first man and all that. However, if you can't get pregnant (or it's your mutual desire not to have children due to your lifestyle), he still loves creampies.

Adam loves to leave his marks on you: hickeys and bites, especially on your neck, arms, collarbones, chest, hips... In general, wherever he can reach with his mouth and lips. Adam likes to do this not only because he finds it sexy, but because of his insecurity. He had two wives who went to a dwarf duck! Somewhere in the subcortex of consciousness, Adam wants every living and dead soul to see that you are already busy with him and minding your own business.

Adam will probably let you do anything (within reason and as long as he feels like he's in a dominant position) if you praise him during sex or tell him you wouldn't choose anyone else over him. This will upset him.

I'm not sure exactly what word is supposed to mean what I'm about to say next (at least I've seen it called "happy way", but I can't be sure), but Adam has a faint trail of hair from his belly button to the groin. And although he takes care of himself (if you ask, he doesn’t care until it starts to get in the way), but he will never remove this particular hair.

His cock is worth forgetting about toys. So are his fingers.

Adam doesn't have a favorite place to have sex, but he prefers you to be alone. Teasing in public is a whole different story!

If you want to quickly excite Adam, then touch his wings. But this should not be a light touch to the tips of his feathers, but a targeted stroking of the growth area of ​​​​the wings and between the shoulder blades.

[iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning]

Misc.

Warnings Key

🥀: Angst

🪻: Fluff

🌹: Smut

🌺: Suggestive but no smut

Davis Rider :

@artificialbreezy :

he knows you like his hands 🌺

Jesse Cash :

@artificialbreezy :

jesse brain rot 🌹

@thefallennightmare :

boot riding 🌹

Landon Tewers (ty to @thefallennightmare and @artificialbreezy for this) :

@thefallennightmare :

extra mean! landon 🌹

not sure what to call this one either but jesus fucking christ (this one also has some slight noah x reader in it)🌹

@artificialbreezy :

guessing whose tongue is who 🌹

Ricky Olson :

@circle-with-me :

‘heal me when i’m broken’ 🥀🌹🪻

@ciginatree :

‘Welcome Home’ 🪻🌹

ricky makes you read while fucking you 🌹

@abiomens :

munch! ricky part 1 🌹 part 2 🌹

Vinny Mauro :

@circle-with-me :

‘You Move Like I Want To’ 🌹

@ciginatree :

‘is this okay?’ 🌹

munch! vinny 🌹

[daryascurse]

Chainsmoking His Love 11: The Eleventh Argument

Zeke Jaeger x Reader // follow #CHLZeke for updates // n.s.fw mdni

POV: second person, AFAB reader, feminine pronouns Chapter tags: public sexuaI activity, dirty dancing, nippIe pinching, fingerιng, mutual masturbatιon, thigh fuckιng, love bites, mildly degrading language / dirty talk. I think unintentionally there’s a lot of saliva in this one lol Chapter length: 3.7k

“Your face is still all flushed,” Zeke says, and you tilt your head back, chin out. Sitting at this level doesn’t physically require you to lean forward in this position, but it feels coy, it feels cute to look up at him with the sweetest gleam you can will to your heavy eyes, and it earns a smirk across his lips as he looks down at you. “Yes, this pretty face,” he says again, and he cups your jaw with his other hand, fingers pressing to your cheeks with a squeeze.

You make a squealing noise, and he kisses your mouth with teeth and skin crushed together between the vice of his grip.

He lets go, and your cheeks still ache as the kiss grows violent, fervent.

♡ read more after the jump or on ao3 ♡ // ♡ spotify playlist♡

I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

Author's note: sorry if I'm ever annoying about the playlist, but: I stumbled across two songs that feel very, very fitting for this fic; and I've recently added them (and I do consistently update/ freshen it!). I think "Blind Faith" by Alexa Dark is a perfect anthem for Reader; and, "I May Be Evil" by Landon Tewers for Zeke. Give them a listen if you'd like.

The music is irrelevant, the tempo, the rhythm. It’s just background noise and the last shred of societal propriety to hold onto as an excuse to press your body against another’s. Of course, the dance floor is just as bawdy and seedy as any other of these underground bars and taverns, with eyes only for one’s partner – or partners, as it may be. Some individuals float from group to group around you, ghosts in the basement. And with that, your hands are only locked with Zeke’s, foreheads against each other’s, breath on breath, as his hands slip in that familiar way around your frame.

“Your face is flushed,” he says, and you blink slowly at him.

“It’s warm down here.”

“Down where?” Zeke asks, and his hands are so broad at your hips that with a gentle push he has you turned around with your back to his chest. The scratch of his beard tickles your ear and you squirm, bringing your hips back to his as you sway together. His hands go automatically to your waistband, pushing faster and harder than the hands that been there earlier in the night. Zeke unfastens you easily, and his fingers push into you, framing the plush of your cunt and massaging it. “Down here?”

You feel the softness against your pelvic bone as he teases arousal down to your neglected entrance, and moan. The last few hours have teased and teased.

No, no, how could you ever have thought that Porco could be better? How could you have thought, even through the delusion of alcohol, that these hands were worth questioning or abandoning – how could you have doubted anything about him or his plan?

Still a strange plan.

“Tell me,” you breathe. “How did it feel, watching Porco touch me and hold me?”

Zeke gives a short laugh, hot air from his nostrils at the side of your neck. “Would you like the truth?”

“I’ll take what you give me.”

“Good answer,” Zeke says, and his hands cradle you, one barely cupping over your cunt as the other searches up against your skin under your blouse. The pads of his fingertips skate across the curve of your breast to your nipple, circling it as your shoulders hunch and skin puckers.

You wait, tongue pushing at your lower lip.

“I liked watching you,” Zeke says. “I like seeing your pretty little face go stupid when you get touched, the panic and thrill that rises to your cheeks. That thrill hasn’t left you now, has it?”

He spreads his large, strong hand across your chest.

“It’s such a shame we have to sneak around so much,” he says, with a remorse that almost sounds genuine, as if he would flee the life of a Warrior to live and fuck out the rest of his days with you in the hills beyond the city. He smears his hand across to squeeze your other nipple in harsh tweaks. The pain is sharp, cold, then delightfully hot. You cry out from your throat and move your hips against his bulge rising to urgent prominence. “Because I love taking you out and showing you off – and you like it too, hmm?”

Zeke dips his fingers up, dragging through your folds, and practically hums in your ear.

“Ah,” you choke out as he moves again, down, up, down.

“Look at you, you’re a great dancer,” he says lazily as your hips shake and buck back in response to the invisible puppet strings he jerks you with.

He slips his hand down from your chest, pushing against your rib cage in a rough haste down to lock on your hip. He pulls you against him with a pulse of the music, his cock straining at the fabrics keeping your bodies apart. The disruption of your blouse across your tingling chest is a frustrating distraction, and you give some tugs of adjustment before letting yourself fall back, let your twists mold with pliancy against his hold.

The mix of sweat and liquor in the air gives you cause to lean your head back, to give up some of the physical demand of standing and moving, and press your bodies together with your head against the roll of his collarbone. Zeke’s smell is just at the edge of the olfactory bouquet, pricking at the side of your tongue and making you salivate for him in a numbing way so detached from your body. It’s just a primal need to search for him, to absorb more of him.

You feel behind you to fumble for his body. You turn your wrist and press your hand to where his own shirt rides up over taunt stomach muscles. Zeke sucks air in at your ear and you smile blissfully, drunkenly, in satisfaction. Your hand twitches and you trace the thin curls of hair down, lower than his navel, with flat palm and reaching fingers to scoop below his waistband.

“Naughty girl,” Zeke whispers in your ear. He sounds hungry, and he sounds happy.

Your shoulder strains in the push, but you aren’t even thinking of it, your hand moving automatically to circle him, stroke him. There’s a bead of wetness already at the top of his cock when your hand reaches it.

And Zeke’s lips are brushing your ear, below your jaw, every inch that makes you sink and shudder against him, your fingers tensing and teasing. His hand is rubbing against you, more fervent now. Your hips shake and thighs clench over him, a subconscious pull to draw him closer, closer.

Everything is clumsy in this dark glorified cellar, every groan part of the chattering, singing, screaming cacophony that lets the two of you melt unnoticed into the crowd. Unnoticed even when you guide him right between your thighs, the thick coating of fabric only spurring the need for friction on. Your thighs are tight, your mind thoughtless of the stain he could smear across clothes.

“Wish you’d worn a skirt,” Zeke says. “It’d be easier.”

“If I’d known dancing was the plan – ” you start, and your words slur as the room dances around you.

“Would you have worn a skirt for Porco?”

You open your mouth to give a retort, something that would have been flavored with irritation at this strange insistence, but Zeke’s lips are on your neck in a way that will leave visible marks, something impossible to explain without a high necked blouse or starched collar to hide in the day. You smear your hand back up his waist as his cock rolls between your thighs, grabbing his shirt in bunches. The complaint bursts into moans, high, keening, as his mouth is sharp on your skin.

“I - want - you,” you say, emphasizing each part of the sentence. Wanting only Zeke. Wanting him.

Now.

The alcohol has long dried off your lips, but it’s what shakes in your knees as you follow his staggered motions, his hand secure on your hip now as he breaks from the intimacy of the hold just to guide the two of you out of the crowd, unwilling to actually let go of you. You two must look wild, bedraggled, and you could not care less, because the washroom door is open and no one is inside.

It’s is tiny and cramped with the two of you as he slams it shut and fastens the latch; but instead of shrinking into your shame as you had when Porco was here, it’s that Zeke fills the room. You shimmy onto the counter with his hands still locked on your waist, knocking over a glass that may have been yours, may have been another’s left abandoned here.

“Couldn’t wait?” he asks, his voice thick as he lets go of you to fumble with his pants. You do the same, shifting from hip to hip, shamelessly letting one leg free as the fabric hangs heavy at your other ankle, dangerously close to the restroom floor.

“Neither could – you,” you say with a grin that drops from your lips and turns to a gasp as Zeke steps between your spread legs, sucks two fingers into his mouth, and then pushes them in your cunt. His saliva is thin against the delicate oil already coating your walls, rushing further and further with each plunge of his fingers. You moan.

“Your face is still all flushed,” Zeke says, and you tilt your head back, chin out. Sitting at this level doesn’t physically require you to lean forward in this position, but it feels coy, it feels cute to look up at him with the sweetest gleam you can will to your heavy eyes, and it earns a smirk across his lips as he looks down at you. “Yes, this pretty face,” he says again, and he cups your jaw with his other hand, fingers pressing to your cheeks with a squeeze.

You make a squealing noise, and he kisses your mouth with teeth and skin crushed together between the vice of his grip.

He lets go, and your cheeks still ache as the kiss grows violent, fervent. You whimper wordless sounds against his tongue, lips moving in rhythm of his fingers, hips searching desperately to drive him deeper as you grind against the bathroom counter. It’s messy, the way his lips move on yours, the faint flavor of tobacco and the sour alcohol entwining with your own cloying tastes of the same; the saliva slipping across your chin, the sides of your mouth. Your hands are clutching on his body, one on the bicep slanted in his new grip on the edge of the counter, the other reaching desperately to tug at the billow of his shirt as he leans down, still feverishly fucking his fingers into you.

“Zeke,” you breathe, breaking his name into a kiss on his cheek. “Please.”

“Please what?” he says in that sweet, low, dangerous voice.

“F-fuck- ”

His thumb closes at your clit, pinching you in his grasp, and you lose the sentence into shrill sound lost over the sound of the band outside. And Zeke says nothing but smiles faintly as he pulls his fingers out, suffocates and silences you with a force of them into your mouth. His face is still close to yours, watching the way your eyes roll, lips waver and suck around him, your tongue fighting the pressure of his touch as you drool over his fingers. Maybe it’s the kiss, maybe it’s the faint remnants of his own sucking, but you can taste him beneath the flavor of your own arousal.

You chase that taste of him eagerly as you clean his skin.

When he takes his fingers out of your mouth, you’re still waiting with lips parted, body pulsing with anxious need, as he pushes your hips open wider with a hand on your inner thigh.

“Needy,” he says, and he pushes his cock in.

“Ah!”

Zeke’s other hand pushes on the small of your back, some residual dampness seeping through the back of your shirt, and he groans. “Fucking you before heading out tonight wasn’t enough?”

“Mmm,” is all you can say, shaking into his frame. He groans, leans forward, head against your head. Your weightless leg hooks around the back of his thigh and you grip his shoulders.

“Wasn’t enough at all,” Zeke grits through his teeth, heavy breath trembling and words in staccato with the rhythm of his thrusts. “All I did was point you at that guy and you spread your legs for him to touch you. It was that easy?”

“S-,” you gulp, and swallow. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Zeke says, a touch of hollow laughter in his voice. The arm of his glasses is rubbing against your temple with the force of his body. The broken words and pain at your skin makes you whimper, fingers tightening on the back of his arms. “You’re just my little toy, aren’t you?”

You whine.

“Say yes.”

“Ye-s.”

Zeke pants heavy, hot in your ear. His beard is rough at your jaw. He’s keeping you split open over him, legs spread sore, your pants bundled at your ankle in a way that grows heavier with each thrust. He repeats himself, begging for you to answer, as your feeble mind tries to string together words.

“Say you’re all mine.”

“I’m – all yours…”

“Mine?”

“Yours!”

“Mine to play with?”

“Yes,” you say, the friction roaring under your skin. Zeke makes a groaning sound and leans back, almost slipping out of you as he adjusts. The rhythm of his fucking falters. Your hands fall off his shoulders as he straightens up, and he plants his hands right on your thighs, digging indents at the pressure that forces your legs apart.

He grins with satisfaction. You curl your fingers into the edge of the counter, and lift your other hand. You lick, and as he pushes his hips into you, out, you reach down. You stroke him with staggered, vocal breath as he pumps in and out and so wholly in again. Your saliva and slick oils together on your fingers as he drags his cock out.

“Good girl,” Zeke says in a voice that sends something cold through you. His fingers get harder on your thighs, little painful circles that make you shudder as the beats come below your skin more and more frantically. “Then come for me.”

You feel it rising as he says it, and you reach out for him, desperate to pull him into you and hold him tight– but Zeke doesn’t stop fucking you, even as your orgasm begins to swell, the miniscule muscles within you vibrating with a pulse that you can tell he can feel. All he does is speed up, grunting breaths over you, and you cry his name with a howl as you come in a wave, another wave. The pent up passion shudders through you and Zeke takes it in stride, fucking you through it. Maybe he grins, maybe it’s a shadow of his beard.

He ignores the slight “ow” in your breaths and takes his own time, reveling in the sweet swollen fruit of your cunt. And you twist your fingers, hard against the stone, the tremble of your muscles heightening in some delicious echo of his final thrusts.

“Oh,” Zeke groans.

When he comes, it’s loud, hot, something richer than any before.

You run the faucet when he pulls out, fingers shaking under the water. You awkwardly let yourself down with weak muscles and straighten out your clothing, tugging your pant leg back over your foot to dress yourself. Zeke doesn’t pull his pants up right away but turns to the toilet.

“You were in here when we first came in, right? With Porco?” he asks.

His face is turned down as he does his business, and you twist your lips. “Just to talk,” you say, and forget until you’ve spoken that it’s a bit of a lie.

“You didn’t screw him in here?”

You turn the water off, and scowl. “I’m fucking sick of talking about Porco.”       

“But you would have fucked him?” Zeke says, repeating his earlier question with a strange urgency. “Would you have fucked him after knowing he found you attractive? Would you have gone and fucked him even without an excuse like tonight?”

He turns back to you, pulling his pants up, and the frown must linger on your face. Some emotion that he’s ill-prepared to know, because there’s something strange etched in his expression as well – something like shock.

“Seriously,” you say, and the strength in your voice feels close to sober. “Dirty talk is something else. But I don’t want to go through some weird fuckery like this again.”

He bends his elbow halfway up, palm flat in a mocking version of surrender, as his other large hand pinches the fastening of his pants together. “All right, all right, I’m sorry.”

Zeke does sound more sincere than he did when you brought it up earlier. But something in you refuses to let it go.

“I don’t think you are,” you say, and you can hear your voice rising in irritation. This time, you make no effort to bite it back. “You can’t just keep fucking with me like that.”

“Then why do you keep letting me fuck with you?”

Zeke’s eyes are cold, and he looks almost sober himself as he stares at you through his glasses. Discomfort burns at your palms, and you put your hands on your waistband, adjusting your clothes to divert the energy.

“Do I have a choice?” you spit at him. “You’ve made it very clear that you can control my livelihood, my life, at your whim. Can I do anything but play along?”

Zeke turns his head away, and he pauses for a moment before answering. “I didn’t realize you felt so trapped in our arrangement.”

“I didn’t,” you say. “You said it yourself – that this was something you weren’t sharing with anyone else. I wanted to believe that meant equality. That I was choosing this, over and over, doing things of my own free will.”

He scoffs at the word and you draw in a breath.

“Sorry,” Zeke says. “Sounded like someone I know.”

You squint at him, and shake your head. “Whatever. Zeke, I didn’t plan to pick a fight. And I certainly didn’t actually plan to fuck Porco. Even if you might have planned that for me.”

He doesn’t need to know about drunken fantasies that count less than a refused kiss.

“Sure,” Zeke says. He makes the word sound shorter than it is; as if he could interrupt himself with the next pause.

You wait for him to apologize, to say anything further. But he opens the bathroom door, clearing his throat, and he sounds cold when he does speak again.

“Then I’ll be sure to keep you out of any future plans.”

Unease prickles at the back of your mind as you watch him walk away yet again tonight, and you shiver in an attempt to shake the feeling off as you stand in the doorway, alone in the bathroom once again.

There’s the urge – the anxious regret– to chase after him, to tug on his arm and sob like a child. That you didn’t mean to lash out. That you do trust him, that all you’ve done is trust him. To beg for forgiveness.

To make sure that this isn’t a goodbye, no matter how his words feel.

No, something whispers at the back of your mind.

And you steel your nerves. If the morning hangover dictates shame, if sober reason says that you were in the wrong, only then you will apologize. But you turn away on your own now, and smooth your clothes with sweaty palms. Maybe Zeke should be the one seeking you out come morning. Whatever the next conversation, whatever the roaring of the blood in your ears… these are not words to share tonight.

You totter your way across the floor, where Pieck sits alone at the table. She pushes an opaque cup across the wood at you, and you make a face as you raise it.

“Water,” she says before you can sniff. “I think we all need some before heading home.”

“Thank you,” you mumble. “Where is – everyone?”

“Colt is ill somewhere,” Pieck says. “I believe Porco is looking after him.”

Her face is so placid, so neutral even in the dim light. You find yourself wanting to grab at her hands, to bring her to a corner to whisper and gossip in girlish glee, despite all your instincts screaming at you not to. You want to ask her – how her night has been, where the companion she brought is, what Zeke is like in her opinion of knowing him her entire life. You remember Zeke telling you that the two of you would get along.

But her eyes are guarded. She sits with a cordial wall up. Maybe she just gets along with most everyone.

“I saw Zeke out on the floor,” you say simply, safely.

Pieck nods slowly. “I know. I saw you two.”

You sip water to buy time for a response as that unease tickles again.

“Don’t worry,” she says while you drink. “Porco won’t care about any of it come morning. He has enough of a chip on his shoulder that some drunken misadventure won’t deepen. And don’t worry about me, either.”

“Can I trust you?” you ask.

Pieck tilts her head to the side, considering. “I don’t know about that,” she says at last. “Trust that you and Zeke haven’t been as subtle as you’ve thought. But,” she says, before you can speak, “he is my War Chief. And I have no ill will towards either of you. So, if your question is, if you can trust my silence, then yes. I don’t wish to be involved if I don’t have to.”

The juvenile urge to laugh and chatter away bursts inside you, and you nod together silently, two women hunched over a table in the dark.

“I have to speak candidly,” you say to her. “I hope I don’t see any of you in the morning. Tonight has been more than I expected.”

“Oh?” Pieck blinks at you slowly, with eyes like the half moon. “He didn’t tell you?”

You find your second hand has risen to grasp your cup, a stake driving straight down your body and anchoring you to your seat at those words. “No. Tell me…what?”

Pieck raises her thick eyebrows. “My dear, the war. The technological advances of the Mid-East Allied Forces are no secret,” she says, with a tone as if she was simply telling you about her breakfast plans. “With everything else going on, the Marleyan army has been reluctant to bring out the Warriors till now. They’ve been staving things off as best they can with our own innovations. But the notice came this evening. They’re sending us all to the front lines first thing tomorrow.”

chapter 12

[lilithbasically]

“What’s Best For You”

For @iwasbunny ‘s Toxic Collab 🖤 I very much enjoyed writing this. Thank you for letting me join, bby 🖤

Bakugo x Reader x Kirishima

There is Dark Content in this fic. Please read the warnings before proceeding.

Warnings: Begging, praise, degradation, fingering, like two thigh slaps, manipulation, mentions of baby trapping, pussyjob, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, threesome, daddy kink, breeding kink, non consensual filming, jealousy, possessiveness, masturbation (f mentioned and m), manipulation, dildo play and use, size kink, a couple pussy slaps, slight Stockholm-ish vibes at the end (I’m putting this more for just in casies but better safe than sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️)

W.C.: 3.9K

Pretty sure the banner was made by @doinmybesthere now @katsupeach but I could definitely be wrong I’m sorry if I am 😭 My memory is horrible and I forgot to write it down

“Better start beggin, Princess,” sending you his signature smirk. Bakugo had you in his lap, large hands gripping your hips, holding you in place. His lips and tongue mapping out all the spots along your neck that made you shiver.

“Mmmmm, Daddy, please…”

Chuckling, he takes one of your nipples between his teeth, lightly biting before swirling his tongue over it, your back arching into him. Bakugo looked up at you through hooded eyes, pupils blown wide with lust, “We both know you can do better than that, Y/N.”

“Fuck…please, ‘Suki…need to feel you…please let me feel you…”

“You are feelin’ me, baby. Hands’ve been runnin all over me since I got ya here.” His hands soothing up and down your back and ribs, “Aww whatcha whining for?” He cooed. “If you want something, you gotta use your words, Princess. Say whatcha mean.”

“Wan’ you inside me, please, Daddy…”

Sighing with relief when he reached his hand down, thinking he was lining himself up to finally fill you for being so good for him. Huffing when you felt him sink two fingers into your dripping core. Slowly stroking that little spot against your walls, making you clench around his digits, his thumb dancing around your clit. It felt amazing, as always. Bakugo never failed to make you come apart but you needed more.

“Please, Katsuki,” you whine, burying your face in his neck.

He laughed, slowing his fingers even more, “What, baby? I’m inside you like you asked,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. Gripping your jaw with his other hand to bring your face to his, he licked and bit your bottom lip before thrusting his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your moans. You felt his cock twitch when your hands ran over his undercut threading into his hair. Pushing you back, thumb and fingers still firm around your jaw, his crimson eyes bore into yours, “What the fuck did I say about using your words?”

Your face flushed red with embarrassment, “Want your cock, ‘Suki. Want you to fuck me…”

“See that wasn’t so hard was it?” He asked, grabbing your hips and picking you up, letting his tip tease your entrance.

The highly anticipated moment was abruptly ruined by your phone ringing, the song “She Thinks of Me” by Landon Tewers filling the air. Kirishima told you he set it for his contact as a joke a few days ago but Bakugo knew the real reason. Kiri was your best friend and knew not to call when you were on your “dates” with Bakugo unless it was absolutely necessary so your brain quickly went from needy slut mode to concerned friend in no time at all.

“Sorry, Katsuki, give me a second, it’s important.”

Inside he was fuming but he couldn’t show you that; he didn’t want to scare you off by showing how jealous he was. Instead, he lightly slapped your thigh, giving you a small smirk letting you know he wasn’t mad at you.

Grabbing your phone, you quickly answered, still sitting in Bakugo’s lap.

“Hey Kiri, are you-,” you gasped when Bakugo started playing with your nipples, his thumbs softly rubbing back and forth over them, his tongue darting out every few swipes. Sending him a pointed look, he responded with a wink and continued his work. “Sorry, are you okay?”

While you listened to Kirishima, Bakugo pushed you back, laying you on the bed. You looked at him confused until he sat between your legs and landed a string of spit onto your clit then once again onto his length. He gripped his shaft and slowly started stroking, spreading his spit and pre while his other thumb rubbed circles over your clit. Shuffling closer to you, he held his throbbing length between your folds with his palm before thrusting his hips forward. Gasping and stifling a moan when the tip rubs over your clit, Kirishima asks if you’re okay, a twisted grin stretching across Bakugo’s face.

“Mmhhmmm,” another gasp, “m’fine, Kiri. Please keep going,” returning Bakugo’s stare, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Everything was so sloppy; Your arousal coating every thick inch of him as he slid between your folds, one hand holding his cock in place, the other rubbing frantic circles over your clit. His thrusts became frantic, you knew he was going to cum soon and you fared no better. Your eyes rolling back in your head, your breathing heavy, Bakugo softly stuttering your name.

Shifting forward to grab your phone, Bakugo kept rolling his hips against you, putting your phone to his ear, “Hey, Kirishima. I’d like to hear her scream my name when she cums so she’ll call you back.” He smirked before dropping the phone on the bed, increasing his pace. Bakugo groaned your name, covering your lower abdomen with hot, sticky white ropes of cum at the same time you screamed his name. Pussy fluttering around nothing, body twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, finally catching your breath, you lean forward to pick up your phone. A cold chill runs down your spine when you see the timer still counting how long the call had been.

You swallow thickly, embarrassment painting your cheeks bright red, you rasped out, “Kiri? I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say…” you trailed off. “Oh please, Y/N. Don’t worry about it. Mistakes happen. Wanna just talk when you get back later?”

Relief coursing through your body, you mutter your thanks and agree you’d see him later. Turning to look at Bakugo you swear you can see him forcing down a smile but that would be crazy, right? Surely he’s also embarrassed…right?

Maybe now he realizes who she belongs to

—————

Kirishima couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew who you were with and what you were doing when he called because he specifically planned to call in hopes of interrupting. He never thought Bakugo would go so far as to keep going. Kirishima had seen you naked before, hell he’d even seen you masturbate, not that you knew that, but hearing you moan, the wet squelch of your juices sliding across skin, your cute little gasps catching in your throat sent blood straight to his dick. He didn’t care if your pleasure was coming from his best friend, or that said best friend knew what he was up to himself since Kiri responded ‘don’t mind me, bro’. He was just so fucking excited he was getting to share this moment with you. Tugging down the hem of his sweatpants, his length bobbed against his abs, the tip flushed red, dripping with pre, hissing when he strokes a hand over it, spreading it along his shaft. He put the call on speakerphone, surprised he was already so close as his free hand reached down to cup his balls, squeezing lightly. Whimpering a small, “F-fuck,” when he hears you scream ‘oh god, Suki’, spurts of cum covered his hand, some landing on his chest and abs. He grabbed a tissue to clean himself up just as you picked up the phone, of course he didn’t want you to feel bad or embarrassed. You need to know just how much you can trust him before he has his turn with you. So he does what any best friend would do, he reassures you.

Kirishima waited for 10 minutes, knowing you would have left Bakugo’s by then, and called his best bro friend. “Hey, Bakubro. I think we should talk. Come over tonight? She’ll be here but it needs to look like a casual hang out until she goes to bed.”

Bakugo decided to stay over, the three of you drinking and hanging out well after the stars sprinkled the sky. When Kirishima heard your bedroom door click shut for the night, he lightly nudged Bakugo and motioned for him to follow.

“I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours. And don’t you dare try to lie and say you don’t do anything to fuck with other guys in her life,” Kiri said, leveling Bakugo with a pointed look.

Rolling his eyes, Bakugo grunted, “Fine, whatever, Shitty Hair, just get on with it.”

“First of all, I think we should work together…”

—————

Bakugo was back the next night hanging out with Kirishima on the couch while you blasted music, dancing around your bedroom, getting ready for a date. Thinking to yourself how sweet this one is and how hopeful you are that it’ll go past a first date.

“Oi, Kirishima, I need you to distract her when she comes through so I can get rid of him.”

“You got it, Bakubro.”

Two sets of crimson eyes darted to the door when they heard the knock.

“Hey, guys can one of you let him in? I’m almost ready.”

Both of them standing, Kiri went to the kitchen for a glass of water, while Bakugo answered the door. Sending the man a small smirk and nod, Bakugo let him inside, gesturing to one of the barstools in the kitchen for him to sit.

“So, you’re taking Y/N on a date, huh?” Bakugo stayed silent and appraised his apparent competition while Kirishima made friendly conversation with the intruder. Short brown hair, standing at about 6’ even, toned but not defined. To say the least, Bakugo was not impressed. Walking through the doorway, you pulled him from his thoughts. He watched Kirishima accidentally bump into you, spilling his water over the front of your light blue dress. Brandishing out profuse apologies over his clumsiness, Kirishima vowed to keep your date company while you changed.

The very second your door clicked shut, Bakugo was on his feet. One hand wrapped around the intruder’s neck, he pressed him against the wall, “You will leave and forget you ever had a date with her. If I ever see you near her again, I’ll fuck you up. Don’t text, call, snap, write, message, carrier pigeon, nothin’. You disappear and never return. Got it?”

Your date looked to Kirishima for help but found the prior bright smile replaced with a glare that could rival Bakugo’s. Realizing he was on his own, your date quickly nodded and voiced his confirmation, slipping through the front door while Kiri and Bakugo resumed their positions on the couch.

“Damn, dude. Didn’t know you scared them half to death every time,” Kiri chuckled.

“If I don’t they tend to get ballsy and come back around.”

“Okay so what about Y/N?”

“Just watch.”

Walking back into the living room, your eyes searched for your date. Seeing no one, your shoulders dropped, eyes tipping down to the floor. Watching you crumble made Kiri’s heart hurt and Bakugo was no better but now they have the opportunity to be exactly who you need. They knew you better than any other extra anyway. They knew how to make you happy if you’d just let them.

“Hey, Princess. Look, How bout you go get comfy clothes and come watch movies with us tonight? Sounds fun, yeah?” Perking up at the promise of your favorite movies and your two favorite men, you nodded, turning to walk back to your room.

Movies helped but they didn’t make you forget. That all too familiar anxiety rolling around your chest, weighing you down as your thoughts told you something was wrong with you. Why else would every date never call you back? Sitting on the couch, Bakugo rubbed soothing circles over your back while you sniffled against Kirishima’s shoulder, “I just don’t understand what’s wrong with me. Am I that horrible? No one ever calls or asks me on a second date. It has to be something I’m doing, right? This one didn’t even get through the first date and he ran. Like what the actual fuck?”

“Nah c’mon, Princess. You know better than that. S’nothin wrong with you. They’re just stupid fuckin extras that don’t deserve you.”

“Exactly what Bakubro said. You deserve the world and someone that’s more than willing to give it to you.”

“I need someone like you two,” you laughed, “Both of you are always fixing me up when this happens. I’m so glad I have y’all.”

Bakugo shared a look with Kirishima saying, “We’ll always be here, baby. C’mon…go hop in bed and I’ll be there in a minute.”

Kissing both of them on the cheek, you padded down the hall to your room and snuggled in under the sheets.

“I’ll start working her towards us tonight. She belongs to us, just needs to realize it.”

“Sounds good. Night, Bakugo.”

—————

You were on the verge of losing it. You’ve been searching for the last hour and couldn’t find a damn thing that could make this infernal fucking beeping sound. “Goddamnit what the hell is making that stupid fucking noise?”

Beep…

Beep…

Beep…

“You’re mocking me, aren’t you? You totally are you stupid little fucker. When I find you, ooooohhhhh…”

Interrupted by your phone dinging, you pull it from your pocket and open your messages.

Unknown: Look, I really wanted to go on our date but the whole blonde and red guard dog thing was terrifying. Being threatened isn’t really a great first date activity, for future reference.

“What the fuck?” Muttering to yourself, you thought back to the night you were supposed to go on your last date. Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. Every time you were stood up, or so you thought, Katsuki was always nearby. Every single time he was conveniently in the same area as you like he knew it was going to happen.

Beep…

Your attention was stolen by the little teddy bear sitting on your dresser that faced your bed. The teddy bear that Kirishima gave you for your birthday earlier this year.

“Okay what the actual fuck?!”

Fully alert at your scream, Kirishima and Bakugo ran into your room expecting you to be doing anything other than what you were. Panic quickly set in when they saw the teddy bear you were holding. You were seething. The waves of anger were practically visible as the energy rolled from you.

“So it’s fucking true? You’ve been threatening my dates and making them not call me back? Do you understand how manipulative that is? How much pain your actions have caused me?” Wiping away angry tears before they fall, you turn to Kirishima, “And that probably means that this,” holding up the bear before throwing it against the wall, “was your doing? Fucking cameras, Kirishima? I can’t believe you two. Who the fuck do you think you are? What gives you the right to control my life from the background? To fucking spy on me in the one place I’m supposed to feel the most secure. How many others are there?”

Both men’s eyes glued to the ground, not able to handle being at the receiving end of your disgust and the cause of you feeling betrayed.

Finally, Kirishima glanced up at you and gulped, “There are five more.”

“I probably don’t even want to know where they are. This is…the craziest, most fucked up thing…that’s ever happened to me and it was from my…my two best friends,” you choked out between fits of manic laughter. Stopping when you realized, “Wait…that means you’ve seen me naked.” Gasping at your next thought your eyes flew wide, “You’ve seen…seen me…oh my god oh my fucking god.”

Bakugo finally recovering enough to speak, steps toward you reaching his arms out to softly rub up and down your arms. “Princess, we didn’t mean to overstep, we just want to keep you safe. Those pathetic extras don’t deserve you, you’re way too good for them. Kiri just wanted to make sure you were always safe. Isn’t it better that he used cameras instead of sneaking in here while you sleep? Sure, maybe he saw you naked and some other things but that’s okay. Now he knows exactly how to please you…he loves you ya know. We both do.” Slipping his hand around your waist, Bakugo moved behind you, nodding at Kirishima who tentatively walked to you.

Dipping his face to yours, you felt his breath fan over your face, “I do love you, Y/N…just wanted to feel close to you without scaring you off.” Pressing a soft kiss to your lips, he heard you sigh, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Bakugo’s hand slipped from your waist to your hip, pulling you to your bed. Lowering his lips to your ear he whispered, “We’ve just wanted what’s best for you, baby and we’re it…let us show you…”

—————

Bakugo pulled you to recline between his legs, your back against his chest as he bit and sucked dark marks onto the skin between your neck and shoulder, claiming you. Kirishima stood at the edge of your bed, his eyes roaming over your figure, taking in and admiring every detail, finally in person.

“Goddamn I’ve seen you naked before but this…holy fuck…” he whispered, leaning over to let his hands ghost over your curves, paying special attention to your thighs and stomach. Dragging the knuckle of his middle finger over your slit he groaned, “Shit you have such a pretty pussy, babygirl.” Bakugo removes his hands from your tits as Kirishima moves up, allowing his mouth to suck and bite the swollen buds.

“See, Princess? We know how to take care of you. You can’t be mad at us for wantin to…” Katsuki reasons.

I should still be mad, you tell yourself. And you were right, you should be angry. Even fucking livid but all you could feel was the tingling between your legs and a disturbing creeping question tickling the edge of your brain.

“What would you do for me?”

“Anything,” both men replied simultaneously.

“Anything?” A breathless whisper, “Seems a bit obsessive…”

“Maybe, but we love you…there isn’t a damn thing we wouldn’t do for you, Princess,” Bakugo mumbled against your shoulder. Kiri dipped between your thighs, feeling his tongue trail up your slit, you tensed as he flicked over your clit.

“Oh fuck…holy shit…”

Kirishima lifts his head, smirking at you, “Hey Bakugo reach in that drawer and give me the purple one.”

“You know about that?”

“Of course I do, babygirl. Watched you fuck yourself with it at least six times.”

Bakugo passed the toy to Kiri who dripped a line of spit onto the head, rubbing it against your drenched folds before slowly pushing it into you. Moaning when Kirishima’s lips wrap around your clit, gently sucking and nibbling, thrusting the toy faster, sucking harder. Bakugo shifts behind you, one hand groping your tits, pinching your nipples, the other wrapped around his cock giving long, lazy strokes. His eyes fully focused on watching Kirishima fuck you with one of your favorite toys. Sliding his hand up your chest to your throat, he wraps his hand around squeezing just enough to make you arch your back and bring you to the edge. You moan and pant, “god…fuck I’m g-gonna cum, daddy…”

Kiri sits up, removing the toy, “No, Little One. The first time you cum with me is gonna be on my cock while I stuff that perfect cunt. Now, clean it.”

Gripping your jaw between his thumb and fingers, Bakugo lightly squeezes and holds your jaw open letting Kiri push the toy past your lips until the tip pushes against the back of your throat.

Kirishima watched you suck your juices off the dildo, humming, he asked, “Bakugo, is she as good with her mouth as I’m thinking?” Bakugo knew exactly how good you were with that smart ass mouth of yours. You on your knees with those plump lips wrapped around his thick cock was one of his favorite images. Smirking at his friend’s lust blown eyes he chuckles, “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

“Nah I’ve waited so long to be inside her, I’m not waiting any more.” Throwing the toy off the bed, Kirishima landed a light slap to your inner thigh, “All fours for us, babygirl.”

Bakugo stood at the side of the bed, his cock standing snug against his abs. Seeing a string of pre connecting from his tip to his abs as his length bobbed made you lick your lips, eager to feel him fuck your throat and taste his cum on your tongue. Looking back when you felt the bed dip behind you, your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. Bakugo’s dick was huge but Kirishima’s was monstrous. Long with prominent veins running up his shaft, at least as thick as a bottle of water, the tip flushed an angry red slick with pre.

“Kiri…I don’t think it’ll fit…”

“Awww Little One, don’t worry. I’ll make sure it does. You wanna be a good girl for us right?”

“‘Course she does. I’d hate to punish her by making all of her friends stay away from her,” smirking at your distressed expression, Bakugo continued, “Now be a good little whore and suck my cock while Kiri destroys your pussy.” With a fistful of your hair, Bakugo leads your mouth to take in the head of his dick, thrusting to the back of your throat and dropping his head back to his shoulders, groaning about how good your mouth feels.

Kirishima holds your hips in his vice-like grip, lining up with your fluttering hole.You feel the bulbous head of Kiri’s member finally bully its way inside, you moan sending vibrations down Bakugo’s length.

“Fuck, babygirl…you know how many times I’ve cum all over myself watching you fuck this pussy? You’ve been such a bad girl…giving everything to Katsuki when I was right down the hall,” Kiri grunted, snapping his hips forward, your scream muffled by Bakugo’s dick down your throat.

Every thrust from Kiri shoves Bakugo’s cock further down your throat until your nose is pressed against the patch of blonde at his base. The hellacious pace Kiri set has your eyes rolling back, drool spilling from your lips. Your ass and thighs red and raw from his powerful thrusts.

Laughing at your small whimpers, “Shut up and fucking take it…Maybe I should just get you pregnant, hmm? Then you’ll really be stuck with us. Just keep breeding you…keep you full of babies so you can never leave. Oh shit you like that? I can feel you squeezing my cock, babygirl, no use in lying to me.”

You feel their thrusts getting sloppy, hips stuttering as they slam against your ass and face.

“Hnnnggg…goddamn, baby,” Bakugo moans, “This is where you belong isn’t it? Speared between our cocks…not a single thought in that pretty little head of yours…fuck m’gonna cum…oh shit…you better not fuckin waste any of it…”

The thought of being full of their cum sent you over. Your limbs violently shaking, struggling to hold yourself up any longer. Bakugo and Kirishima filled you at the same time, their cum dripping down your throat and flooding your pussy. Kirishima slipped from you to lay on your bed and pull you into his arms, Bakugo still standing at the side.

“You good, bro?”

“Yeah, Shitty Hair just gotta check somethin’ real quick,” Bakugo said, slapping a hand down onto your abused cunt. “Who the fuck do you belong to, Princess?”

Overstimulated, your body jerks, “‘Suki ‘n’ Kiri”

Another slap, “Who’s gonna block all the other guys in her phone and pretend the cameras don’t exist?”

“Me, ‘Suki, please no more…”

Another slap, “That was for being so damn mean and ungrateful about us doing what’s best for you.”

You nod softly as he crawls into bed behind you, your eyes drift shut as you start to fall asleep on Kirishima’s chest. Threats, betrayal, and manipulation the furthest things from your pretty little cock drunk mind.

_______________

Tag list: @touyasdollmain @raggedyannazon @fatbitchgeek-blog @sunflowers-rae @whatever-the-fuck-i-dont-care @katsukisdynamite @totally-not-bakus-hoe @literotica

[imperial-martian]

Need To Change {James Moriarty x Reader}

A/N: I’ve never done a song fic before, so this is a first, but I hope you all enjoy it.

Requested by Anonymous

Vampire! James x Human! Reader

Vampire! AU, Song Fic

Angst

(Strong Language [in sense of song lyrics], Murder)

•—•

It's five thirty-three,

I'm awake and my bed is covered in sweat,

I can't sleep,

and there's blood on the sheets.

Yeah she likes it rough,

but I don't think she likes all the things that I love,

I need more,

then she wants to give.

.

He was a vampire. You were as normal as can be, a human.  He had his urges, his need for blood. Every vampire does. However, Moriarty was different. He was a killer. The man killed for blood with no mercy. That was all he did. It was his enjoyment.

Then you came along. A human, someone that should not have affected him so dearly. Yet, with nights such as the one you both had last night. The rare nights were you allowed him to bite you, but not turn you. The nights were he kept the promise of never biting you're vain. You did want to die after all. In a world like the one you lived in, why stay alive longer than you need to?

Yet, the man you loved, James Moriarty, he hated the promise he made. He wanted you forever. He wanted you to be his. Not somebody that he'd just go off and kill. Not somebody he'd use. Somebody that was his. Somebody that loved him.

.

I know, yeah I know you want me to change,

but I'm fucked in the head,

I can't break,

I know, yeah I know you want me to change.

.

The night had ended like most others. You telling him to stop, and he didn't listen. You'd always be drained after nights like those, where he needed to feed, or he'd start a massacre. Surely, if you didn't leave him after that, then he'd have killed you without thinking, without hesitation.

He wasn't surprised when you had stood up, threw on your coat and covered your neck in a scarf before leaving yelling back to him a, "call me when you learn to stop, James."

It was going to be a cycle all over again. He'd call, you'd run back to him as if nothing happened. You were so naïve, and of course, you were. You were dating a murderer, you might have very well have been one yourself if you were what he was. If you would just give in and let him turn you. Turn you into a monster like him.

.

I stopped blaming me,

now I blame God for my ways that you see

I'm a slave,

to my self loathing brain

Never thought I'd see a girl like you in this place,

where men are like dogs, and the girls dread the chase,

I can tell,

You're just numbing the pain.

.

James learned at a young age to stop blaming himself. It was boring to him, something that constantly dragged him down. He found no fun in that. He'd always said, "it's much more fun to blame others for your doing. Then you don't get in trouble, unless, of course, you're trying to."

That never changed when you came along either, rather he had more of a reason to blame others. He had a reason to head home every night. It was no fun coming home with guilt eating down your shoulders when someone like you was waiting at home for him. Someone so special.

It really was a miracle that he came across you. It certainly wasn't supposed to end up where it did. Yet, it had and James was rather glad he hadn't killed you when he planned to, because only God could know how his life would end up if that happened. Would he find someone else? Would he continue killing without hesitation? How would it have all ended up?

.

I know, yeah I know you want me to change,

but I'm fucked in the head,

I can't break,

I know, yeah I know you want me to change,

I know, yeah I know you want me to change,

but I'm stuck in my ways,

it's a shame

I know, yeah I know you want me to change.

.

You weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to take it. Take in the fact that Moriarty was a killer, the fact that he killed more and more day by day. You were a human, a naïve one at that. You had no idea why he did this. Why he found enjoyment in it. He just did.

In time, you’d eventually give in, or so Moriarty hoped. He so badly wanted you as his. To claim you, finally. Yet, you weren’t sure if you could be his. You weren’t sure if you could commit to him. Commit to a murderer, a psychopath.

He’d have to change his ways, or if he wasn’t going to do that, hide what he does, because not knowing what he was doing was better than feeling sick every time you saw it. He wasn’t going to change, not even for you.

.

I just needed a fix,

I guess my timing was right,

you had just joined the mix,

I was sold,

and I needed a taste.

Didn't have to put a lot of work into this girl,

she saw my contentions and gave me world,

I'm in love,

But I will fuck this up.

.

Even if he wouldn’t change for you, even if he had killed you that day, you were a blessing. So badly did he need you when you entered his life. He needed both you and the rare night you allowed him to feed off you. The oh so rare nights.

Strange was a way to describe your encounter. A woman in the woods at such a late hour in the evening. Yes, he had been hindering there specifically in hopes to find someone, or even something, to feed off of, and there you were in a tree gazing at the stars.

He’d stood, his back to the trunk of the tree near the one you sat in. His ankles and arms were crossed as he looked at you with narrowed eyes. Calculating ones. It wasn’t long until you spotted him looking at you from where he was.

.

I know, yeah I know you want me to change,

but I'm fucked in the head,

I can't break,

I know, yeah I know you want me to change,

I know, yeah I know you want me to change,

but I'm fucked in the head,

I can't break,

I know, yeah I know you want me to change,

I know that I need to.

.

“What are you doing here sir?” you had asked, wrapping your hands around the branch and leaning forward a bit so you could look down at the man, getting a better look of him.

He wore a sharp suit, one that most certainly showed he was not only wealthy but that he was dangerous. No, not powerfully. Simply dangerous.

“I could ask you the same, darling,” he had replied, leaning his head up a bit, looking at the stars that you had just stared at earlier before he looked back at you. His eyes caught yours, not breaking the intense stare, he spoke after a moment. “And why are you out here at such a late hour? Isn’t that quite dangerous? You never know what could happen, especially in the woods.”

.

Why are you crying,

I'm not like your last man I don't give a damn

Why're you still trying,

run back to him now,

I'm sure he'll understand.

.

James Moriarty really hadn’t given a damn. Not a single one. It wasn’t long before he grew out of control. Before he lashed out on you after yelling back and forth. He’d given you only a split second to run after that, and you hadn’t taken it. You hadn’t even tried to run.

James always knew he’d kill the person he would love most in the world. He wasn’t surprised when he did it. He wasn’t surprised when he killed you.

Being with a monster like him, it was bound to have happened, it was almost unavoidable. So it was not a surprise to see that you hadn’t been shocked either. He should’ve changed, he should’ve done something to stop himself.

.

I know, yeah I know you want me to change,

I know, yeah I know you want me to change,

but I'm fucked in the head,

I can't break,

I know, yeah I know you want me to change,

I know that I need to.

.

But, how could a vampire like him ever change?

Tags: @letysg0, @cherryfluff

[amoristt]

Among the Inbetweens | Nathan x Reader

disclaimer: i know nathan is not a good person. i am not putting a blanket over his actions in this fic. i, the writer, understand he’s not an innocent character and has made many terrible choices. im just answering people’s requests, please dont put me under the fire for it.

thank you.

moody-patootie asked: I would please like to request a nathan x reader songfic with the song Findlay by Landon Tewers (angsty perhaps?). If it is possible and interests you of course. I think it fits rather well with nathan since he was so unloved.  sure thing!! i love song requests so much :3 also thanks for recommending me this song, i love it and i now have a new artist to look into :D in this fic i really wanted to explore the ‘bad parts’ of being in a relationship with nathan prescott, namely his breakdowns. in my fics i mostly portray him in his better, more loving lights, so when you suggest angst i realized now would be a perfect time to show his sides that are harder to deal with. thanks for giving me the opportunity <3 hope you like it!

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Among the Inbetweens

Upon the very instant you walking into his room, unaware of what you were about to throw yourself into, you realized you really should have called Nathan before just barging in.

The tenacity in the air was almost palpable and it set off alarms that rang in your head like bells, warning you of the situation you were about to have to deal with. Nathan, sitting at his desk with his back faced to you, his shoulders squared and his head ducked down to his shoulders. He was angry.

“Nathan?”

He lifted his head, turned and he glared at you from the corners of his eyes. You felt your stomach drop.

Not mad. Pissed.

“What.” He deadpanned, his voice a rumbling hiss, and you debated just turning around and leaving right then and there.

You swallowed and shut his door behind you, shuffling into the room but staying close to the wall. “What’s wrong?”

The course, airy laugh he forced out made you cringe. 

“Same shit every fucking day,” He laughed viciously. “Day in, day out.”

“What happened?”

In an impulsive, fury induced movement, he shoved all the papers off his desk and turned his swivel chair to face you. You jumped at the movement, taking note of his aggression only increasing. His features were stone cold, eyes narrowed and chilling. His phone was gripped almost devastatingly tight in his right hand. This was bad. Very bad.

“What happened?” He asked as though you were dumb. You frowned.

“Yes, what happened?”

He suddenly stood, sending his chair back and hitting his desk, shaking it and tipping over the small jar of pencils he had sitting on top of it. They spilled and rolled over the edge, clattering on the floor.

“What do you think happened?”

Try as you might to not take his words personally, you still knit your brows at his crudeness. He’s just mad, you told yourself. He’s so fucking mad but it’s not at you.

“I’m so fucking-” he gripped his hair and stumbling back. “Sick of it, everything- I don’t even fucking live with them and they still- Ugh!” He kicked some of the pencils that laid near his feet. “I hate it!”

Of course you knew the minute you saw his anger it likely had something to do with his family, but this wasn’t just his normal agressions. He was blind right now, not thinking clearly as he sent another pencil skittering over the floor. You remained silent, unsure of way to say, and you guessed maybe it was best you didn’t say anything at all. Right now was not the time to console him.

A storm was coming and you could see it in his eyes, his stature.

“They don’t care!” He snarled, and you realized he was more venting out his anger to himself rather than saying it directly to you. A pit formed in the center of your stomach as you realized what was to come any second now. He turned his back on you, body trembling with fiery rage. For just a second he looked down at the phone still in his hand, then he store his gaze away, and the next thing that happened you almost didn’t register.

The phone came less than a foot from your head, clashing against the wall with what sounded like a fatal crack. It happened so fast, you’d barely even seen him whip his arm to launch the device, and you flinched seconds after it smashed into pieces. The pieces gathered in a pile on the floor, the phone now absolutely destroyed and covered with it’s own screens shards. The wall sported an inch long hole.

Nathan did not come out of his rage even after you cried out sharply, jerking away from your spot and swearing you had felt some of the glass fling against your arms. If anything he seemed even more tense and furious than before, his bony hands balling and un-balling dangerously. He wanted to swing at something, break something, hurt something and even though he’d never once gone so far as you injure you this time you wondered if it would be a first. There wasn’t one clear thing in his mind right now, it probably all felt like a mush, or maybe static. He wasn’t even close to being in his right mind. Maybe tonight was his breaking point.

With him standing menacingly in the center of the room you made your way along the wall, finding his bed and soundlessly settling yourself on top of it. You tried to make yourself smaller upon it, your legs tucking themselves to your chest. Knowing him and his triggers, you did not look directly at him. Instead you watched from the corners of your eyes, head turned incase he looked up at you so you could quickly turn away and pretend to not see the hate in his eyes.

“Bullshit,” he seethed, and hissing ferocity made you shiver. “It’s all fucking bullshit.”

You wanted to talk to him. You wanted to tell him it was okay to be upset, to be hurt, to hate, but you couldn’t. Surely if you dared to speak up to him directly right now he’d yell at you, and then you’d end feeling hurt and that wouldn’t help anyone. Right now Nathan needed silence. He needed space and solitude. He could get none of these things.

So much was gathering up inside of him, like a pit of snakes or something far worse. They coiled and writhed inside of him, made their way up to his heart and choked the life out whatever was left of it, and he was left facing the consequence of having your entire chest busted and tied. Without an outlet all of it manifested at the very base of his throat, behind his eyes, in the palms of his shaking fists that would do anything for a face to target. You’d never seen him this way, with such a spark that made you feel like everything around you was suddenly so flammable, you included. You stared at him like you imaged a rabbit would stare at a fox: terrified and frozen with apprehensive tension. At any moment you felt like he’d lunge at you, but he didn’t, and it only made the trepidation grow within you until you almost imaged him making his move.

Only, it wasn’t your imagination.

He did make his move, but you were not the paper he lit on fire. Instead it was he himself, his fingers tracing their way down his face, nails biting into his pale skin and dragging along the way. A sharp painful cry left his lips but you felt as though the agony wasn’t from the physical wounds he was dealing onto himself. When he was done with his first path he did it again, harder this time, eyes squeezed shut and his mouth a tight grimace. Without even thinking you sprang into action and made a move for his hands, gripping tight to his skinny wrists and all too easily prying them from his marked up face. At the sudden contact he tried to yank away but you held fast, tugging him with you as you took a step back to try and keep himself from trying again.

“Stop!” You begged, heart leaping and your breath billowing in your throat. He was still trying to rip away from you, stumbling backwards and jerking back his elbows. When he looked up at you, you did not recognize even a single part of those eyes. He was more akin to a wild animal, frightened and frantic, than he was human. His eyes were dark and afraid, and at that moment they were afraid of you.

You felt like you were wrestling with him but you didn’t give in, holding fast and unwavering even as he started giving into it. His will was draining now, that fury that had once been eating him alive beginning to combust inside of him. The compressions of his heart and chest started to loosen and you hoped he felt like he could breathe again.

“Nathan,” try as you might to reach him, he still limply tried to pull away from you. His actions were half hearted and tired but still consistent, so you didn’t lighten your grip until the last of his anguished tugs were replaced with tortured breaths. You carefully led him to the bed where you had been sitting, and although he was sluggish and lagged behind your movements, he still followed you and did not fight when you urged him to sit down beside you.

Countless marks ran down his face, angry and red. The nails on his shaking hands were short but apparently dangerous, able to work as claws if he was enraged enough. Luckily they weren’t sharp or uneven enough to draw any blood but the marks were still very radiant, running down from his brows, over his eyelids, to his sharp cheekbones like a ugly streamers. His split lip still bled from how hard his teeth had sank into the flesh, and his tongue still darted out to subconsciously try and soothe the stinging.

At least he was letting you touch him. Even if his state of breaking, all his walls starting to crumble down and crush him, he was allowing you the grace of sitting next to him and silently offering whatever support you could. There was so many words swimming in your head, so much you wanted to say that you could almost physically feel it bubbling up in your chest, threatening to burst at any moment.

Nathan, leaning forward with his face in his hands, was both silent and deafening. No longer did his shoulders tense up, fists ready to crack on any surface they could find. He was quiet and still, but there was also a part of him that roared like thunder. His cries.

They were soft, barely noticeable unless you were to see his state, but to you they were all you could hear. Loud, unforgiving, piercing. Your chest ached with every angry sob, every harsh intake of his uneven breaths. Before you had been afraid he was too far gone during his act of rage but it always came back down to this, both soundless yet thunderous. He was the calm of his own storm, and he was a rain that licked away it’s wounds afterwards. He was both the ferocious river, dragging everything along with it, and the gentle trickle that followed close behind.

Your hand met the expensive fabric of his jacket and he didn’t respond, so you let it wander past his shoulder to his upper back. Up, down, gently rubbing over his clothed skin. Not only was the repetitive movements hopefully helping him, but they were also helping you. You timed your breathing to the movements, your thudding heart starting to come down from your previous fears. You should have known it would come down to this. Nathan could be the scariest person you’d ever met, but even he got tired eventually. The only thing that presented a problem afterwards was everything bounding in your head, from the things he’d blindly said to you to the things he’d blindly thrown at you. His phone still laid demolished on the floor a few feet away, that new crack in the wall taunting you.

“Nathan,” you whispered, and he didn’t answer. “Nathan?”

He still didn’t answer. His muffled sobs continued on, adding weight after weight to your chest and making your own eyes sting. You gently scratched against the top of his jacket before rubbing in small circles.

“Can you hear me?”

Thankfully Nathan did seem to be able to hear you. He nodded and then sniffed, then let his hands fall limply to his lap. The sight of his face, still littered with claw marks but now glistening with tears, made you have to look away for a minute.

Now that you had his attention your mouth ran dry, unsure of what to say next. You’d wanted his attention to make sure he was lucid in some ways, but now that he was waiting for you to say something you had no idea what you could possibly tell him to make this situation any more bearable. Actually, you didn’t even know the situation, how could you possibly help him?

Still though, his eyes reached yours, longing and expectant. He wanted you to say something, anything. As always it made you wonder how someone as mountainous as Nathan could appear so small at times, like a small child asking you for help; needy, afraid. The worst possible thing you could do right now was not say anything, so you wracked your brain for literally anything to say.

“Are you okay?” You’d blurted, and the second those words left your mouth you wanted to smack it. ‘Are you okay?’ The question was so painfully obvious, so ludicrous and dense, but he went on to answer it anyways, looking down at his lap.

“No.”

His voice was much… Softer than you’d anticipated. Then it struck you that no, his voice did not sound soft, it sounded broken. Soft was kind and gentle, warm to the ears and touch, but his was none of those things. His answer was blunt and simple, cold, and raw with scratches on his throat. The walls that which buried him had yet to disappear, so instead of fighting them he gave in. Nathan was tired, exhausted from his previous outburst that he’d likely be replaying in his head for the rest of the week. Every little thing would set him off in the worst ways.

Your hand found it’s way to his lower back, but this time he tensed beneath your palm, so you slid it right back up to the spot he’d been compliant with. “Is there anything I can do?” Once again your words felt dumb. After what you’d seen simple minded questions were likely the last thing you should be asking him about. But, you didn’t want to ask him what had happened. Of course you were curious but you didn’t want to trigger him into another melt down, especially not when he was already so jaded and worn out.

For a moment he looked at you, turning his head just enough to get his peak before once again covering his face and shaking his head. “No.” He mumbled, and you frowned in defeat. There wasn’t anything you could truly do for him other than stay at his side, offer some sort of grounding and peace for him to come back to when he’s released with his post-meltdown exhaustion.

“You should go.”

At first words didn’t register with you. You blinked at him a few times, processing, understanding, until you finally realized what he had said. “What?” you asked softly, leaning forward and trying to get a look into his eyes past his shielding hands. Never once had he asked you to leave him during a time like this. Usually it was the opposite, him calling for your aid during even his worst times of needs, but this time he didn’t want you to be there with him.

Once again he let his hands fall to his knees, his fingers toying with the fabric of his jeans. “You should go.” He repeated himself and didn’t meet your gaze, staring straight down. Your throat felt like it had been punched.

“Are you sure?” You asked.

“Yeah.” He answered.

You hated the way it made you feel. It made you feel an entire combination of things, but the most prevalent were useless and… Hurt. He didn’t want you to be around him, and though part of you understood it was because he was likely tired and wanted isolation, you still couldn’t help but take that blow to your ego.

Still, you nodded aimlessly, and swallowed down the rock forming at the center of your throat.

“Okay.” Your voice wavered and you knew he heard it with how he squeezed his eyes shut, almost in pain at hearing the sound.

As you got up, feeling like an animal with it’s tail in between it’s legs, you gazed down at him and took in the sight. Him just sitting there in silence, his entire body still slumped but not of relaxation, his face stinging with self inflicted scratches and his eyes still full of humiliating tears. There wasn’t a single thing you could do for him, and you finally understood what years of this had been doing to Nathan. In this moment you could see everything on him: the years of abuse, the pressure, the way he felt so unloved. The childhood trauma. Though you knew he beared these scars and marks you’d never seen them until this point, and it left you breathless. You so desperately wanted to stay, but you knew he wouldn’t let you even if you begged.

Nathan seemed to have read your mind. “I’ll call you.” was all he offered, a subtle way of telling you it was time to leave. You nodded again and thanked him softly, though you didn’t know exactly what you were thanking him for. Turning your back and leaving him felt entire levels of wrong but you did so anyways, and as you opened his dorm door you caught sight of that damn phone again and for some reason that was the one thing that finally let your tears take shape and leave a burning trail down your cheek. You shut the door softly behind you as you left and leaned against it on the other side, holding your sobs in with the palm of your hand.

The entire way home those tears still rolled down your face, from the moment you stepped out of the dorm room to the instant you stepped back into your own. They felt like scratch marks of their own and thankfully you didn’t run into anyone. All you wanted to do, you found, was lay down and sleep. You were tired too, and welcomed your mattress with a loud thud. Silence took it’s place and hung uneasily heavy over your room, cloaked your mind and body with fog.

You didn’t want to move from your place. You didn’t even want to roll over, not having the energy to even breathe evenly it seemed. With a whole lot of urging you managed to force yourself onto your back, staring up at your ceiling through blurry eyes. Things like this had happened so many times before, you’d think you’d have gotten used to it, but this time it felt… Different. You felt so unnaturally lonely.

Roughly you wiped at your eyes and sniffed, laying there on top of your blankets and pillows, wondering about Nathan as usual. After you’d left, what did he do? Did he cry, have another fit, break more things in his room? Or, worst of all, did he do nothing?

You felt selfish to be hurt at the idea of him doing nothing when you left, but you couldn’t help it. Something about the way he sounded, the way he looked at you, felt entirely new and you didn’t like it. His expression didn’t have any substance, his eyes almost entirely empty towards you. Perhaps tonight was his breaking point, but not nearly in the way that you had imagined it would be.

Sitting at your side your phone sat like a brick, unalerting and silent. ‘I’ll call you’, he’d said, but there wasn’t a thing in his voice that led you to believe he actually would.

The entire night felt strange and alien. It felt wrong, like it shouldn’t have happened, or should have happened a different way. You wondered what it was you could have done to change things even though it meant nothing now that it had all happened. You couldn’t go back in time, you couldn’t change the course of your actions, what little ones you had done.

Your ceiling, white and simple, served as a holder for your eyes to unfocus on. Though tired, anxious, and hurt, you just sat there in silence and waited to hear that obvious and obtrusive ringtone of yours. You waited until you finally fell asleep, eyes heavy with tears and uncertainty.

Your phone still sat beside you the entire night.

There was nothing.

[artificialbreezy]

Hey. Hi. How are ya?

I see that you are in the mood for some texts. So pretty please with some sugar on top, can I get some Landon Tewers texts? 🥺

Okay, love you. Bye

for you? absolutely.

[thefallennightmare]

Hey. Hi. Hello. How are ya?

Does anyone want a little sneak peak into the blurb I’m currently working on? The whore on my shoulder is loud this morning.

[thefallennightmare]

Hey. Hi. Hello. How are ya?

The whore on my shoulder has been loud since I saw The Plot In You on Saturday. Because of my texts with @artificialbreezy this morning, I’ve decided to listen to her and the whore on my shoulder and write this drabble. It's kind of long for a blurb/drabble. So please enjoy!

Landon Tewers x Reader w/ slight Noah Sebastian x Reader.

18+ SMUT BELOW THE CUT(hate fucking with unprotective P in V, mean and possessive Landon, shower sex, choking, fingering, biting, spanking, teasing, brat!reader, peeping Noah).

“I swear, Lana! I faked it. Every time.” 

She looked at me with wide eyes trying not to choke on her sandwich as we sat around catering. The Plot in You and Bad Omens were touring together and it was nearing the end of the first week out of three. It was the first time I met anyone in the Bad Omens camp and since we both were the only females in each of our camps, Lana and I meshed well together. It also helped that we both were photographers. 

“You didn’t even get one?” She asked, dropping her voice since someone walked past our table. 

“Well, with my ex boyfriend. I faked it all. Now, I’m determined to make sure I get at least one before the guy gets off,” I admitted but then snapped my mouth shut when another body stood behind her. 

Looking away from Lana and up to the man that now stood behind her, looking through the spread of food. The tattoos on his thick arms glittered in the light of the room and when he glanced over his shoulder at me, I couldn’t take my eyes away from the snake and apple tattoo on his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. 

“Hi,” I gave Noah a small wave as crimson warmed my cheeks when I remembered what happened yesterday.  

I accidently walked into the Bad Omens green room thinking it was the one for The Plot in You and managed to catch Noah mid dress. He was shirtless and stepping into his stage pants. My mumbled apology fell off my lips when I saw all those tattoos donning his skin and the very prominent hard on underneath his briefs. Noah made no move to kick me out, instead he backed me up into a corner, hands resting on my hips. 

“Need something?” He asked. 

“Depends on if you want to give it to me,” I playfully shot back. 

He hummed while slinking his hand underneath my hoodie, fingers grazing over the blazing skin of my stomach. “All you have to do is ask.” 

“I want you to make me cum with those long fingers. Think you can do that, Noah?” I breathed over his lips. 

He didn’t say anything, simply pulled down my jeans to my ankles. 

Noah now gave me a smile before gathering a plate of food to go sit at the table right behind me. When I saw who Noah sat next to, my heart stuttered in my chest when I locked eyes with a pair of dark eyes that had clearly been watching me. Not just today but ever since I started working for The Plot In You two months ago. 

Landon scratched at his chin, sending a wink my way, which made me spin back in my chair to face Lana. 

“What’s going on between you two?” she wondered. 

I blinked while shifting in my chair. “Me and Noah? No-nothing. We’ve just been flirting, that’s all.” 

Lana raised her brow with a sly smirk. “I meant with you and Landon.”

“Oh,” I mouthed while feeling a burning gaze at the back of my head. 

For two months, Landon and I had a complicated relationship. We would flirt with each other but not in the way you’d expect. Landon liked to tease me while I was a brat with him and couldn’t control my mouth. What started as light physical contact like the occasional brushing of hands or his hand on my lower back when he needed to walk past me soon became something more. Any chance he could, Landon would corner me and whisper filthy things in my ear to gauge my reaction. Most of the time I’d be so caught off guard that I would gaze up at him like a deer in headlights. When I did gain the courage, I would find the most revealing yet modest outfit to wear while working, showing off the right parts of my body that drove him wild. 

The other night was the first time that we got sexual when he pulled me into his bunk while we drove to the next city and whispered five words in my ear. 

“Need to taste you, baby.” 

Of course, I didn’t say no. I’d been riled up all week and needed a good orgasm that wasn’t brought on by my vibrator or hand. 

Yet, it never happened. Because as Landon was in the middle of devouring me, my hands gripping the back of his head so he couldn’t leave, his phone rang.

“No, please,” I whined when he pulled away. I’d been so close to my orgasm and was starved for it. 

He kissed the inside of my thigh. “Just give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back.” 

After laying there naked from the waist down for fifteen minutes, I swallowed the lump of embarrassment in my throat and got myself dressed again, leaving his bunk. Neither of us said anything about that night which made me believe it wasn’t what he imagined. 

I wasn’t what he imagined. 

“There is absolutely nothing going on with Landon and I,” I finally told Lana while pushing away my plate of food, suddenly not hungry. “We just like to have fun teasing each other.”

“I think what you and Noah are doing is fun. Which is fine. You’re single, you deserve to have fun. But I think whatever is going on between you and Landon is more serious.” 

“What do you mean?” I pursed my lips. 

She began gathering her things before motioning over my shoulder. “He hasn’t stopped staring at you since you stepped into the room. And the look he has in his eyes tells me everything I already knew.” 

With a wave, Lana left me alone at the table with only my thoughts. 

Not for long, however. 

Landon kicked out the chair next to me before falling into it, dark amber eyes pinning me in place. 

“Need something?” I asked with a narrowed gaze and rubbed my sweaty palms on my bare thighs.

A smirk played on his pink lips underneath his mustache as he leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “With me you won’t be faking because you’ll be fucked like the whore you are.” 

My face blanched for a moment, wondering if I’d heard him correctly, but then anger festered low in my gut when it finally registered what he said. 

“Fuck you, Landon!” I seethed while pushing away from him and rising to my feet, him sitting laxed in the chair as he looked up at me. 

He shrugged. “All you have to do is get on your knees and beg.” 

I sneered while snatching my camera off the table. “All you are is fucking talk. You talk such a big game to make up for your shit performance in the bedroom! You couldn’t even get me off the other night!” 

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to watch us as I dared a glance over to Noah who was watching with an amused smirk on his face probably because he felt proud that he was able to get me off while Landon couldn’t.

Landon slowly rose to his feet so he could peer down at me. His breathing was deep and even, almost scary from how calm he was. It was the muscle in his jaw ticking that told me he was trying hard not to retort back. 

But of course, I was a brat, so I stood up on the tips on my toes to whisper in his ear, letting my hands rest over his broad chest. 

“At least Noah was able to get me off.”

Oh, I really fucked up. 

All because I couldn’t keep my stupid mouth shut. 

After leaving Landon behind in catering, I needed to be alone which is why I decided to take a shower in the tour bus bathroom. The show was in a few hours so I needed to get ready for it anyway. I’d been alone under the scalding water for less than five minutes before the door to the bathroom clicked open causing me to peer through the steam covered class, seeing Landon leaving against the door with a sly smirk. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, slightly shocked he managed to sneak in but made no move to cover myself. 

“You said I had a shitty performance in the bedroom. Do you want to find out?” He asked while taking off his button up shirt, leaving him in a pair of jeans and a white tee.

I should say no. 

I should tell him to fuck off and leave.

But I didn’t.

Which is how I found myself pressed up against the plastic wall of the tour bus shower, Landon harshly whispering in my ear, dragging his teeth along the lobe, as the water splashed against his large back. 

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” 

A loud smack echoed in the tiny shower when he brought his hand down on my ass causing me to yell out in slight pain and arousal. 

I bit my tongue nearly drawing blood so I didn’t ask him to do it again. 

“Fuck you, Landon,” I spit out instead, the anger from our earlier argument still brewing deep in my gut. 

A dark chuckle brushed against the back of my neck as he pressed his cock against my ass. 

“You can act like you hate me all you want, baby. But you keep pushing that perfect ass against me. I know what you want. But the question is, do you deserve it?”

Yes I do. 

“Go fuck-oh.” 

My threat fell away when his finger brushed along my folds, slowly teasing my clit. 

“Is this for me? Or for him?”

Don’t say something bratty. Don’t say something bratty. 

“Noah knows how to touch a woman,” I shot back over my shoulder. 

Landon let out a low growl while kicking my feet farther apart and bringing my ass closer to his hips so I was bent over, hands spread on the shower wall. I knew I didn’t need any foreplay, I was ready to go, and it seemed like Landon knew this as well because he angled his cock at my entrance. 

“Do I-?” 

I shook my head, already knowing what he was going to ask. “I’m clean.”

Our moans tangled together when Landon pressed inside of me, meeting some resistance so he pulled out slightly before going deeper this time. 

“That’s it,” he grunted while resting his forehead on the back of my shoulder. “Take all of it, Y/N.” 

The sound of him fucking me over powered the noise of the shower as he ruthlessly snapped his cock in and out of me. I clawed at the wall, trying to grasp onto something to keep grounded, and the familiar bliss of euphoria began to burn low in my gut. My orgasm was so close and I needed to finally tip over the edge so I dragged my hand down my stomach towards my clit. 

Landon smacked it away. “Hands on the wall.”

“I hate you,” I grumbled while doing what he said. 

His pace was ruthless, never letting up as his cock speared me open and hitting that spot each and every time. 

“Oh, God.” I panted. 

Landon’s nails dug into the skin of my hips to keep me planted as his cock swelled inside of me, indicating he was close too. 

“Say my name,” he breathed into the skin of my back, his mustache tickling my spine. 

His cock is inside of you, don’t be a fucking brat. 

Once again, I did not listen to the voice inside my brain. 

“Noah,” I moaned while dropping a hand to my clit, rubbing fast circles. “SHIT!” 

Landon stopped mid thrust to wrap his thick and tattooed arm around my throat, bringing me flush against his chest. By now the water had run cold, chills covering my body, and when I tried to get him to move again, Landon chuckled darkly. 

“If you want me to keep going, Y/N, let me hear you say it,” he bit down on the side of my neck. 

“No,” I shot back but still tried to get him to move inside of me. 

The fire of my orgasm was beginning to dwindle. 

Landon began pulling his cock out of my tight folds, making me whimper in a pathetic mess. 

“Please,” I dug my nails into the ink on his arm. “Don’t.”

The head of his cock was the only thing inside of me and I whined, never feeling this empty before. 

“You sound so fucking pretty when you whine for my cock. Just say my name and it’s all yours,” he said in between nipping and sucking on my neck. 

His name was quiet as it fell from my lips with a beg but it wasn’t enough for Landon. 

“Use your manners, baby. I need you to speak up so I know what you want,” his cock was nearly all the way pulled out. 

“Fuck,” I wrapped a hand behind his head. “Please, Landon. I need your cock. Please, I promise I’ll be good.” 

With a hand over my cheek, he turned my face towards him so our lips were meters apart. 

“That’s my girl,” he praised before crashing our mouths together and filled me up again. 

Our tongues fought for dominance and I wasn’t going to give up, something Landon so he let me take the reins of our kiss while he brought me closer to that familiar edge of euphoria again. With past relationships, I was never able to orgasm by intercourse, I always needed something extra to help. But with Landon, he was able to make those stars dance at the corners of my vision and my stomach fluttered just with his cock. 

Pulling away from our kiss, Landon rested his forehead against mine, the water running down his tattoos. “You can tell me you hate me all you want, Y/N. But the way your pussy is gripping me tells me otherwise.” 

Movement through the shower panes of the door caught my attention as I looked into the mirror of the bathroom, nearly falling to my knees in Landon’s grasp. The familiar snake and apple neck tattoo stared at me in the reflection of the glass. Landon must not have shut the door completely so Noah was watching through the small slit opening. 

I tapped Landon’s arm, trying to get his attention that Noah was watching but it only made him fuck me even harder. “Let him watch, baby. Let him know what he can’t have.”

I tried my best to meet his pace but it was so erratic, I opted to fall deeper into his body as his grip around me tightened when my orgasm finally tore me. I let out a loud scream, writhing in his grasp. 

A large hand clamped over my mouth and Landon pressed me against the wall of the shower, his stomach fleshed against my back. 

“You need to be quiet. I can’t have the guys hear how pretty you sound coming apart on my cock.” 

Landon fucked me through the after shocks with a few thrusts before his cock twitched, finally spilling himself inside of me while panting my name. 

Almost immediately he pulled out to turn off the water of the shower, both of us freezing, and I hazily turned around to face him. I stole a glance to the mirror in the bathroom, expecting to see Noah, and I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach dropped when I didn’t see him there anymore. 

“I still fucking hate you,” I grumbled. 

He snickered while gripping my chin so I had no choice but to meet the fire in his eyes. 

“If you keep up with that attitude, I might need some help in punishing you next time.”

I gulped while wrapping my arms around me. “Some help?” 

A sinister smirk broke out on Landon’s face. “Do you want to find out?” 

Please. 

[thefallennightmare]

Hey. Hi. How are ya?

I have one Landon Tewers x Reader blurb, one Landon Tewers x Reader w/ slight Noah Sebastian x Reader one shot, and one Matt Dierkes x Faye blurb planned to post tonight into tomorrow.

I hope you guys love all of them!

[thefallennightmare]

BRB HANGING THESE UP ON MY HEADBOARD SO I CAN LOOK AT THESE EVERY NIGHT.

@artificialbreezy I love you. Thank you 🥺🕊️ I will be asking for more.

Hey. Hi. How are ya?

I see that you are in the mood for some texts. So pretty please with some sugar on top, can I get some Landon Tewers texts? 🥺

Okay, love you. Bye

for you? absolutely.

[thefallennightmare]

😈😈😈

Coming later today.

Hey. Hi. Hello. How are ya?

Does anyone want a little sneak peak into the blurb I’m currently working on? The whore on my shoulder is loud this morning.