#midnight bite canon
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arikihalloween · 9 months ago
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how we feeling about the fact that Julie canonically has paws?
I AM NOT OVER IT AND AND I AM ITCHING TO DRAW ALL MY JULIE AUS AND NYXIES WITH PAWS
OMG THE LITTLE PAWS
Da little paws *crying*
Da beans
Julie canonically has beans
I love Julie Joyful so much
I was so happy to hear her voice in the new tracks
I'm such a gremlin about her
Little paws on the rainbow gremlins
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sk3l3t0n444 · 1 year ago
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this is fine im not hyperfixating on fnaf...and its totally not turning into a special interest...anyways everybodys opinion on the timeline of fnaf is dumb and im the only right one/hj
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yume-fanfare · 2 years ago
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something about how almost every au too has the theme of kou wanting to save mitsuba
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rainrot4me · 4 months ago
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Return The Favor
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Summary: Stumbling in on your neighbor’s chopped up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not so subtle love note hidden away.
Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Mentions of death, explicit description of a dismembered body, decomposition, death, gore, obsession, vomit, throwing up, blood (non-sexual), blood (sexual), vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, vaginal, choking, gagging, somnophilia, rough, Toby literally goes insane about you, virginity kink, first time, desperation
Words: 9.4k
A/N: This shit long asl I'm so sorry... Characters in this story are not canonical!
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It’s said that when there’s a dead body nearby, your body can sense it before your brain can. 
It’s almost like instinct, a survival nature programmed into your brain. It’ll start with goosebumps and chills running all over your body as if you were being watched, this uncomfortable sensation that you just can’t rationalize. Then the anxiety sets in, body aching and sweating for no apparent reason but it just knows there’s something wrong. 
Finally, when you’ve finally choked it up to just being your imagination, that’s when you’ll smell it. Throat instantly closing and nostrils flaring at the putrid stench of rot and gore. It’s incomparable, no amount of food poisoning or disease compares to the sickness you feel in your stomach at the smell of a human body decomposing. Every instinct in your body pleading and begging you to get out of there, run as far away until you can’t breathe anymore. 
You would know. And it seemed like the boy huddled in front of you did too. 
There was no real reason for you to even be in this house in the first place, but your all-too-good heart guilted you into it. You had just come home from work, mind tired and body sleepy as you unlocked your front door, tossing your bag onto the kitchen table inside. It was well past midnight, the diner you worked at closing way later than normal, but at least you made some good tips. 
Sliding into your bedroom, you changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your hair back before stepping into your kitchen. You gripped the tiny journal lying on the counter, cracking the worn pages open to where you left off, scribbling your thoughts onto the paper. It was your nightly routine, journaling things you saw or did, a coping mechanism suggested by your therapist. It wasn’t for anything intensive, just minor anxiety and self-image problems, always having negative thoughts about yourself. It helped. Glancing up, you looked through the tiny window above your sink, a clear view of your neighbor’s back porch, Mr. Higgs, an older man who made it very difficult to be friendly. He was a hateful guy, always nitpicking your choice of decorations or specific outfits he didn’t find appropriate. A real sweetheart, obviously. 
But compared to his usual eight PM lights out, the living room lamp was still bright, shining directly through his open back porch door. That was odd. As long as you had known this guy, it wasn’t like him to be up this late, let alone be outside. Every instinct told you to just clean up and go to bed, his angry ass probably scooting off a raccoon or something. But you just couldn’t pass up that nagging feeling, your kindheartedness overpowering you. So, sighing, you tossed a hoodie on and slid out your back door, stepping down the porch steps into the cool grass.
You flinched as a flash of brown passed your vision, small and thin against the dark grass. Cooing, you kneeled down, holding your fingers out as Mr. Higg’s old cat, Addy, sniffed the air around you, pressing against your bare legs as she purred. The man was way too protective of his cat. Something was definitely wrong.
Standing again, Addy pranced away, meowing loudly behind you as your bare feet became wet against the midnight dew, grass sticking to your ankles as you walked, arms hugging yourself against the cold. This would probably just end with you getting told to mind your business and stomping back to bed upset, but it was the thought that counted. Gripping onto the porch rail, you stepped up his creaky wooden porch, knocking against the wooden frame of the open door.
“Mr. Higgs? Everything alright?” You called into the room, refusing to go in. There was no response, you knocked again after a couple of seconds. Still nothing. You gulped, rubbing your arms against your sides, nerves wracking you. “Okay. I’m coming in. Don’t get mad 'cause you didn’t answer me.” You called again, pressing past the door and wiping your wet feet on the welcome mat. 
The house was quiet, the only light being the lamp sat on a coffee table adjacent to the old couch. All the furniture had an older look like something out of the eighties, it made you cringe. “Mr. Higgs, are you home?” You shouted down the dark hallway, all the doors shut except for one at the end which you assumed to be his room. Hugging yourself, your legs felt anxious, your mind racing with all the reasons you shouldn’t walk down there. There was no reason for it, this was all just probably some old guy who forgot to shut his door, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling.
Taking a step down the hallway, that’s when it started. Those feelings, like your body can feel shouldn’t be there. The air suddenly grew thick, a nauseating feeling setting in against your chest, pressing down like a conscious weight. But you shook it off, telling yourself it was just you scaring yourself with all of those crime shows, but you should’ve known better.
The door was cracked, moonlight from the open shades pressing against the doorframe, your hand flat against the wood as you pushed the door open. Then came the smell. It was stout, a putrid funk that wafted against the walls, souring the room. The room was dark, pupils blown wide as they fought to see, hand sliding against the wall and searching for a light switch. Your body was tense, senses on high alert against the dark, breathing ragged against the awful stench filling your senses. Your eyes were beginning to water, wondering what in the hell could be stinking this terribly, until you felt the switch, flipping it on.
Your first instinct was to throw up, throat constricting and stomach tightening, but you just couldn’t move. You were petrified by the scene in front of you. Mr. Higgs was there, at least, what you could recognize of him. His head had been cleaved from his body, intensive amounts of blood staining his beige bedsheets. His cheeks were bloated, a gnarly purple color as his veins poked against his forehead, skin wrinkled and soaked in blood as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. They were yellow now, dark veins contrasting against the orbs as puss leaked from every hole on his expressionless face. The rest of his body was scattered, chunks of muscle shredded from his arms and hands like they had been cut off, legs more or less the same. His wide stomach was completely visible, his skin swollen and dark, bloated against the same liquids spilling from his pores. The blood was the worst part. It was just everywhere. Splattered on the sheets, the nightstand, even the walls, specks reaching the roof. You were so lost in your racing thoughts, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you gripped the door tightly, knuckles white on the frame. You could feel the cold sweat drip down your brow, utter fear chilling your body. 
You wouldn’t have even noticed the tall boy standing in the corner if he hadn’t flinched, eyes wide and locked on you. He was lanky, easily taller than you and pale. No, not pale, more gray. He had curly brown hair that fell in front of his eyes, his freckled cheeks flushed against the bandages across his jaw. A pair of goggles rested amongst his curls, a dark mask covering his nose and mouth. He wore dark wash jeans loose around his hips and a heavier brown hoodie that was stained with dark blood. Oh God. The boy didn’t look much older than you despite his bruise battered skin. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, he was just watching. 
His hands were behind his back, shoulders scrunched against the corner of the dark walls as you pressed back off the door frame, breathing ragged. “Who the hell are you?” You grimaced, tone coming across a lot more confident than you felt. The boy flinched, not out of fear, more like a bodily reaction. He refused to answer, eyes scanning around quickly until he pressed off the wall, sliding to the shuttered window and pinching the blinds open, scanning the night without explanation. That’s when you heard loud boots stepping up the porch steps, head spinning quickly down the hallway. “Shit.” You heard him, the boy’s voice panicked and rough, his boots stepping quickly across the hardwood and into your vicinity. Panic strained you, head spinning back quickly before your vision was filled with his arms wrapping around you, palm slapping over your mouth as he pressed you to his chest. 
You tried to fight back, mumbled pleas against his hand as you shouldered his arms, your back pressed firmly against him. He was dragging you into the room, your feet dragging as you struggled, clawing his arms away but he never budged, practically unaware of the scratches you were leaving on his hands. “F- Fuckin’ quit-” He growled quietly, pressing open the small closet doors and dragging you both in, quickly shutting the door as you heard the boots grow louder down the hallway. A sliver of light shone through the crack in the door, leaving you just enough room to see the gorey scene as you pressed off of him, his muscled arms refusing to let you go.
“Toby?” A scratchy voice called into the room, the figure stepping through the door frame and into your line of sight. At his appearance, you froze completely, your body tense against the boy behind you. His arms gripped tighter, bandaged fingers digging into your cheek as he kept you quiet. He was horrifying. 
This man was taller than the one in the closet with you, pasty skin a sharp contrast against his dark messy hair. His eyes were wide, pupils dark against his reddened scleras. He wore a white hoodie, dark jeans covered just the same with Mr. Higg’s blood. But the worst part, the part that made your heart pump in your throat, was his smile. It was etched in, flesh torn upwards into a mocked smile, teeth exposed from the side of his cheek. The area was mangled, seemingly unhealed as blood dried against the cut. He almost made Mr. Higgs seem not that bad.
“Twitch, come on,” He called again, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket as he strolled around the room, kicking Mr. Higg’s severed foot out of the way. “I’m gettin’ tired. This guy had some good beers and I’m tryna get back home and drink ‘em.” He snickered, turning back out of the room and back down the hallway, his loud boots stomping against the old floors. Who you presumed to be Toby didn’t let you go, arms just as tight around you as you gripping his hoodie’s sleeves tight. “Fine then! If you’re gonna play fuckin’ hide and seek then I’m leavin’ your ass here!” He called throughout the house, your body only untensing when you heard the back porch door slam shut, loud boots thunking down the porch and out of earshot. 
You both waited a couple of seconds, heart thudding in your ears as arms slowly released you, palm unclasping from your mouth. Panicked, you slammed out of the closet, turning around quickly and facing Toby, back pressed against the nearest wall as you searched for something to defend yourself with. “D- Dumbass.” He grit, pressing out of the cramped closet and facing you, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. The stench of the room pressed harder than ever, making your head dizzy as you pressed out of the room and down the hallway, Toby quick on your heels. “Whoever the fuck you are, whatever the fuck you want, I’m sure Mr. Higgs didn’t have it. Why in God’s name is he in pieces in his bedroom?” You hissed, gagging as the image replayed in your mind, turning into his kitchen and wracking the cupboards. When you found a small plastic cup, you ran water in through the sink, chugging the stout liquid down as you calmed your breathing. Toby stayed in the doorframe, crossing his arms. You probably shouldn’t have let your guard down, knowing full and well what he had just down to your neighbor, but you figured if he was going to he would have already.
“It’s none of y- your business. I don’t k- kill innocents, so you s- shoulda just stayed home, m- missy.” He growled back, stuttering through the words. You tossed the cup in the sink, the plastic clattering against the metal as you turned to face him, running your hands through your hair. “Hard to when you guys so obviously left his door open. The bastards hounded me for years, you’d think I’d be happy about his death, but not fucking like that.” You hissed, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, bare feet cold against the porcelain tiles. “I mean, Jesus. And I mean, thanks and all for the save back there, but how is killing him and saving me any different? It’s just favoring one innocent over another.” Toby shook his head, sliding past you and tugging a drawer open, shovelling through old receipts until he found the stack he was searching for. He passed it to you, paper crinkling as you skimmed through, old pharmacy receipts for prescription medicine. 
“H- Had the old bastard bu- buying our meds. Paid h- him off and everything. Un- Until he started g- giving us coun- counterfeits, sellin’ u- us out. He h- had to pay u- up somehow…” He huffed, shoving his mask down off of his nose and under his chin, his thin lips chapped against the bandages hugging his cheeks. And of course, he was cute. 
“So he gets shredded?” You had to breathe through that sentence, throat tight with nausea. Toby nodded, a small smirk crooking at the corner of his lips. You grimaced, pressing off of the counter and through to the living room, the old furniture seeming a lot less homey now. You were going home, filing a police report, and praying to God these fuckers didn’t come back to get you instead. 
“U- Uh, might wa- wanna clean up, t- too,” Toby chuckled from behind you. You paused, confused as you looked around, stomach twisting as you looked down. Bloody footprints trekked through the kitchen behind you, a trail leading to your bare feet as you lift your knee, gagging at the sight of Mr. Higg’s blood coating your soles. Toby was laughing, the noise muffled against the ringing in your ears as you hunched over, stomach convulsing as you puked on the hardwood floors, your lunch from work coming back up. Head straining, you panted, wiping your lips. “Oh, s- shit, okay.” Toby hissed, sliding to your side and raising you up, hugging you close to his side. He drug you through the door, stomach still churning as you watched your footprints faintly appear beneath you, purposefully dragging them through the grass to get the blood off. You felt disgusting, giving no fight as Toby brought you to your porch steps, helping you up. He was so bipolar, angry and distasteful for one second, then cautious and endearing the next. It really was like you were dealing with a teenager. 
Addy circled your ankles, her dense fur tickling your skin and making you jump, Toby gripping your arms tighter. “Oh, hi kitty.” You cooed, breathing deep as you kneeled down, scooping her up into your arms as Toby helped you up the rest of the steps. Without asking, he slid open your screen door, helping you both inside as Addy purred against your chest, Toby wary as he stared at her. You dropped her on the floor gently, Toby sliding the door shut as you hunched over your sink, cleaning your mouth and grabbing a rag for your feet. Toby still eyed Addy, fidgeting his nails as he followed her. “Ever seen a cat before? She was Mr. Higg’s.” You chuckled, cleaning the soles of your feet off and tossing the rag into the sink, still feeling unclean. Toby nodded, rubbing his arms nervously as he looked back at you, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah. Us- Used to have one. T- They kinda sc- scare me now.” Smiling, you scooped Addy up again, petting her soft fur as you brought her close to the boy, his neck twitching nervously. 
How could this guy shred a man to pieces, but petting a cat was too frightening for him? You couldn’t understand. Digressing, you gripped his wrist, steadying the twitches as you placed his hand on her back, rubbing gently as Toby flinched, breathing quickly. Addy purred, unbothered by the action as he became more comfortable, fingers playing with her fur before he pulled his hand back, breathing deep.
You were too nice for your own good, too easy at giving the benefit of the doubt. Of course, you would find the redeemable traits in a murderer, heart hurting for this boy who was more or less the same as you. Groaning, you dropped Addy, crossing your arms. “Listen. What you did, it’s… For my own conscience, I can’t let it happen again.” You grit, circling your countertop and sitting on a stool, your journal tucked in front of you as you fidgeted with the pages. “If we can agree, I’ll buy your meds. I have a friend who can write me prescriptions, no questions asked. But I need you to understand, under no circumstances, are you allowed to harm me. I’ll call the cops.” Like the cops could stop these lunatics. But, you needed some type of leverage. 
Toby thought quietly, eyes narrowed as he flinched uncomfortably against Addy rubbing on his shins, purring loudly. If you could hold your end, there would be no trouble, but he had to know he could rely on you. “Th- The meds aren’t for m- me. My f- friends, they need ‘em to function, m- mentally… You g- gotta realize this is- is serious.” Even stuttering his voice was stern, arms crossed as he thought, contemplating. You nodded, brushing your hair from your face as you groaned, realizing how desperately you needed to learn to set boundaries. “I can get them. But you have to keep your end, too.” You hissed back, pinching your fingers nervously. Toby smiled, crossing his heart, literally. Rolling your eyes, you nodded, rubbing your face as you groaned. What the fuck were you even doing? 
“I’ll have them by the end of the week. Come later at night, cops’ll be swarming for weeks thanks to you.” Toby nodded, sliding over to the counter and gripping your journal, tearing a page out as he wrote the list of prescriptions you would need to get. It was a hefty list, some of that shit intense. “Abou- About that,” He slid his mask up over his nose, sliding the screen door open as he stepped out, chuckling. “Do- Don’t go outside. Gonna ma- make it look like a g- gas leak.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he shut the screen, sliding his hood over his head and peeling down the porch steps. Finally taking a deep breath, you stared at Addy, wondering what in the absolute fuck you were doing. Rest in hell, Mr. Higgs.
-
He made it look like a gas leak alright. The house was on fire in minutes, the bright orange flames lighting your room as you heard sirens in the distance, your other neighbors gathered outside their houses as you climbed into bed, groaning your displeasure. Cops and firefighters swarmed for days afterwards, investigating the area thoroughly, but never finding any remains of Mr. Higgs, his body buried somewhere far away. They eventually grew restless, the city quickly cleaned up the charred remains of the house and a new plan for construction was set in soon. It went over smoothly, no one even suspecting a thing. 
The days passed slowly, nervousness building as the end of the week grew closer, feet shuffling as you stood in line at the pharmacy. You got the doctor’s notes easily, already called in and waiting to be picked up as you were handed a small paper bag, the pharmacist eyeing you closely as you hurried out. Once in your car, you rummaged the sack, eyes wide as you read the dosage instructions on each little pill bottle. You read each bottle carefully, cringing at the names of the contents: Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, and even Aripiprazole. They were all high-end antipsychotics, the list of treatments for schizophrenia and mania, along with treatment-resistant depression. The last bottle caught your eye, a quick Google search told you it was for tourette's. So his twitching wasn’t just nervousness, huh. Shoveling the sack into your bag, you sped home, Toby well on his way as the sun set low.
The first week was easy, Toby in and out without so much as a hello, nodding his thanks as he bolted back into the woods, eyes dark and heavy. It was easy for you, moving along with your life despite the one night of the week. You felt easier, the boy quick about his stops with some chat, but never hanging around for too long, eyes always scanning the tree line nervously. 
As weeks passed, he grew more comfortable, you learned that he was quick about stopping due to his friends, their curiosity about you making him nervous about losing his ‘dealer.’ You learned to leave his meds on the counter, sometimes not even present when he would sneak in at the late hours of the night, your job taking precedence over your sleep schedule. But with all of this money being spent weekly on medicine, you had to pick up more time at work, everything being paid for out of pocket not to raise suspicion. You were sleeping more, journaling and your hobbies taking less importance until they were practically nonexistent. It was hard, your serving heart refusing to let you rest, making sure Toby got his medication is the most important thing. You were strained, to say the least. 
However, surprisingly, after a couple of weeks, Toby wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He had slid in like he always did, you sat at the counter eating your dinner as you scribbled through the pages of your notebook, summing up the previous days. You were exhausted, Toby making you jump slightly as he shut the screen door, rummaging through the paper sack. “G- Got any more?” He grinned shyly, sliding his mask and goggles off and tossing them onto the counter. You nodded to the fridge, an extra container of leftovers from the diner quickly opened in front of him as he shoveled it into his mouth. “It’s better heated up,” You laughed, shutting your journal as you slid off the stool, gripping the to-go container from him and popping it into the microwave. You both sat there awkwardly, Toby kneeling down to rub Addy’s back as she appeared beneath him, soft purrs echoing. He was still nervous, never petting her for too long before standing back up, the microwave beeping. The food came out steaming, sliding open a drawer and handing him a fork, Toby continued to shovel the food into his mouth. You hissed, holding his arm as the steaming food sizzled inside his mouth, it had to be burning him. “Oh. Y- Yeah, I don’t fe- feel pain. Th’s good, tho- though.” He grinned, slurping up more of the food. He acted like he hadn’t had warm food in forever, stuffing his face and barely giving himself time to chew. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he ate.
The stays became longer after that, his excuse being he was hungry, continuously raiding your fridge until you began to have food ready for him, prepping his meals along with your own. Thirty minutes turned to an hour, to two hours, and then eventually through the night. He would crash on your couch, Addy curled in his lap as the television blared some old movie. That was one of the only times you didn’t see him ticcing, the cat acting as an anchor against his restless body. He looked truly comfortable, using your blankets and pillows to his advantage, beginning to invite himself to stay the night after a while. 
You sat at the counter, Toby snoring loudly as he laid face first into the couch pillow, scribbling into your journal. It was the one thing you had time for, having to get up early for work as the soft glow of the kitchen light lit the pages. Toby was practically pushing himself into your life, his lack of manners and curious mannerisms leading him to take initiative. You were grateful for his friendliness, giving great detail of his missions with his friends and explaining that whole situation. Even still, you were wary. 
But against your better judgment, your relationship with the killer was becoming less transactional. He brought you things to make for dinner, talked with you through your mutual sleepiness, and even took care of Addy when you were too delusional after work. For lack of a better word, he was becoming a friend, showing up for more than just his medication, even sometimes forgetting the bag and having to chase him down. He was infesting your life, arriving earlier than he should and leaving later than you cared for. The end of the week was becoming optional, the screen of your porch door sliding open nearly every night of the week Toby didn’t have a mission. It was annoying but in a comforting way, like you both were becoming closer naturally despite your differences. 
As you heard his snores, you groaned, rubbing your tired eyes as you began to write, letting your pencil guide on the page numbly as you wrote your thoughts. It wasn’t directed at Toby on purpose, but the further you got down the page the further your heart sank, hand fisted in your hair as you rested your elbow on the cold marble counter. “Ah, Jesus…” You grit, scribbling the final few words as you lean back, rubbing your head. The words weren’t lies, more of a hard truth you weren’t willing to accept, chalking it up that you were just tired and desperate. The words could have been about Toby, or they could have been about anyone, you didn’t really care. Sighing, you tore the page out, folding it and shoving it into the back of the book, closing the pages quickly. Sleep sounded much easier as you flipped the kitchen light off, turning the volume of the television down as you trudged upstairs to your room, giving one last glance to the snoring boy and his matching cat.
-
Toby knew his mishaps with you, his moral compass long forgotten the more time he spent inside your home. He told himself it was just easier, food and shelter at his disposal whenever, but he knew better. It was so much more than just picking up medicine for Tim and Brian now, it was a solid relationship, a bond that was forming in his eyes. 
It had been almost four months since the unfortunate death of your neighbor, a smile creeping every time he saw the charred flecks of wood buried in the overgrown grass. You had begun to leave the back door unlocked, reasoning that someone breaking and entering would be less of a hassle than him. That was what Toby really hooked onto the most about you, your humor about everything. Despite your hardships and the emotions you had to overcome, you held a caring heart, compassion always lacing every action. He found it admirable, your humor through your busy life. And, likewise, he did feel bad for making you work so much, tired eyes always hurting his heart whenever you were around. But, it wasn’t like he could get a job, so he helped where he could, cleaning and learning to cook for your sake. He needed this medicine, for his friend’s and his own stability, even at your expense.
You were already nestled at your spot on the counter, writing your thoughts in that damn journal. You barely even looked up as he entered, diving for the fridge as he scooped up Addy with one arm, her purs a nice vibration against his shoulder. Popping the container in the microwave, he leaned in over your shoulder, trying to catch a glance at your scribbling before you shoved him off, closing the book quickly. “Ah, ah, mind yours.” You smiled, forking your own food into your mouth. “O- Oh come on, [Y/N], just a pe- peak.” He smiled back, gathering his food as he began to eat, sliding onto his familiar spot on the couch. It was routine now: where you sat, what he watched, what you both talked about. He explained his latest mission with Masky in more detail than you enjoyed, pushing your food away as you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You both laughed throughout the night before you whisked your food into the fridge, calling your goodnights before heading upstairs. 
Toby continued to watch the television, brushing Addy’s back with his bandaged fingers as he sat his empty container to the side. His curiosity nudging him, he raised up, tossing his trash before he slid to the counter, you all too confidently leaving your journal there. Slipping back onto the couch, he began to flip through the pages, listening closely for your footsteps as he read your entries, smiling as they dated all the way back to your high school years.
It seemed as though everything you thought spilt onto these lines, emotions erratic between every page as he realized just how much of a people pleaser you really were. All through your recent years, it was nothing but service, acting through the goodness of your soul until it felt sickening, fake almost. He cringed, flipping quickly through but finding nothing juicy, no deep dark secrets that he felt were interesting. Sighing, he closed the journal, standing to set it back onto the counter, until a slip of paper fell from between the pages. Smiling, Toby leaned down, arms twitching as he slid the journal back onto the counter, leaning against the marble as he flipped the paper open, reading carefully.
“Sometimes, when I think about it too hard, I get all emotional about myself. I know I put on a front, like everything I do I’m in charge of and can handle, always putting everyone around me first. But what if I wanted to be put first? I do so much for the sake of others but it never seems to be returned, never compensated for the mental strain. Well, maybe I want to. Maybe I want to be loved like I see others, rough and real. I have no clue how I even would, I can barely handle touching myself before I'm overwhelmed. But I just want someone else to take the reins, show me that I don't have to work my brain so hard and can just numb out. That's not too much to ask, right? Just someone who can love me, not some creep or one night thing, someone who cares. If I never ask for anything again, that would be it. Someone who wants me for me.”
He could have died. The brunette’s cheeks dark as he re-read the crumbled page, excitement coursing through him. In his mind, he wanted to storm upstairs and just rattle you then, showing you how good he could treat you. It was like a bomb had gone off, Toby having to pretend like him having a crush on you wasn’t achingly obvious, convincing himself he just didn’t know how to act around women. But now it was clear, his mind racing with a million wants and needs, body spasming under the excitement. 
Convincing himself to leave, he slipped the note into his pocket, body buzzing with excitement as he slid out your door. He would be back, like always. But this time, he would show you what you truly needed, what only he could give you. 
-
Like always, Toby left a note for the medication you needed to pick up, it sometimes changing week to week. Everything looked normal, the usual combination of pills reading off. But as you scanned the bottom, you groaned, shoving the paper into your pocket. Trilafon, Saphris, and… Plan B. As if your desperation for some affection couldn’t have gotten much worse, your heart twisted, a lump growing. Whether it be for some girl he was laying or a girlfriend he already had, you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get the medicine and go. Crawling into your bed sounded like a much more exciting activity than dwelling on the brunette, heart saddened in all the way you knew it shouldn’t. 
To make your night even better, Toby didn’t show. It wasn’t unusual, for him sometimes not to show up for days due to extensive missions. But a part of you longed to see him, especially after today, just to help your mind with the whole morning-after pill situation. So now, instead of imagining him surrounded by his friends on a mission, you imagined him towering over a girl. Strong arms holding her, body contorting to fit against hers… You could’ve been sick, shaking your head as you ate quickly and pressed upstairs, barely petting Addy before you slinked into bed, hauling the covers over your head. 
It was lonely on nights without his presence in your house. But especially tonight, thoughts racing uncontrollably to the point of tears, thick droplets streaking down your face as your chest hurt, longing for a body, any body, to hold close to yours. Maybe you really were just a transactional thing. 
-
Toby smiled as he trekked through the familiar stretch of woods to your house, heart racing in his chest. He had it all planned out, exactly what he wanted to do, his cock already twitching in his jeans. 
He hadn’t shown up tonight on purpose, hanging back at the mansion to take the best shower he could, Ben teasing him about how good he smelled as he was leaving. You had to be well in bed by now, body tired after working all day just for him. He would take care of you, showing just how grateful he was for how much you were giving up just for his friends and him. Pressing past the tree line, he smiled, pulling his hood down as all the lights in your home were out, signaling your retirement. 
Pressing up the steps, he slid the screen door open quietly, careful not to alert you as he clicked it shut. Stripping his hoodie, he tossed it onto the couch, Addy purring light against the cushions. It was warm in your house, black t-shirt hugging his arms as he untucked it from his jeans, climbing up the steps, his mask and goggles quick to come off next. 
He was too excited for his own good, boots stepping quietly against the old hardwood as he slinked to your door, fidgeting with the knob. A rush of your scent blew into his face, your perfume stout in your small bedroom, eyes searching around in the dark space for your bed. It wasn’t hard with your breathing, quiet snores making him smile as he leaned against your mattress, admiring your unawareness. You looked so peaceful, his bandaged fingers tracing your cheeks and brushing your hair from your face, your skin flinching under his touch. “Hi, baby…” He whispered, the pet name sounding right against his tongue as he referred to you, tugging the sheets down. 
Toby always knew how nice of a body you had, you sometimes sauntering around the house with shorts and a t-shirt and making his eyes trail just a little longer than normal. But now, under his cold hands, you were even more gorgeous. You were wearing an oversized shirt, a slight tug at the fabric revealing that you only had panties on underneath, you slightly stirring as his nails brushed your skin. The brunette was excitedly jittering, kicking his boots off as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at your curled body sound asleep. You shifted, rolling onto your back as you breathed deep, stretching your arms before settling back into yourself. Toby could have died, your legs stretching out to rest around him, his cock twitching with interest against your now visible panties. A quiet sigh breathed through your lips.
That was all the invitation he needed. Running his cold hands under your shirt, he felt your warm skin and goosebumps rising as you squirmed under them. Your brows scrunched but Toby pressed further, running his fingers along your waist and up to your tits, palming the mounds gently as he smiled. It was crazy to him just how soft your skin was, not weathered or bruised from missions or nature, perfectly smooth under his axe-calloused hands. Pushing your shirt up to your chest, he gasped at your round tits, the weight so perfect in his hands as he pinched at your nipples, rubbing the nubs gently. Toby was never very sure of anything, always brushing through life at the command of others. But the one thing he was sure about? His love for boobs, especially yours. 
Nudging closer between your legs, he rested your knees on his thighs, leaning down to your chest as he popped a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently. The nub was hard against his tongue, slowly circling as he massaged the opposite one in his palm, pinching your nipple gently. That’s when you began to stir, hands sliding against the bed and unconsciously searching for the cause of your sensitivity. Lazy hands pushed against his face, soft groans echoing in the boy’s ears as he popped off your nipple and moved to the next one. Your hands fingered through his hair, tugging lightly until your eyes were beginning to flutter, your mind slowly coming alive. Toby let off your tit, kissing along your chest and licking a stripe between your tits, humming as he watched your eyes slowly blink open, confusion rocking you. He kneaded your tits gently, tugging at your nipples as you realized what was happening, eyes slowly widening as you strained to sit up against him. “Toby? Wha-” Your voice was scratchy, ridden with exhaustion as the brunette kissed up your neck to your cheeks, pushing you back down as he slotted himself flush between your legs. Slowly realizing what was happening, your cheeks flushed dark, hands pressing against his chest as you squirmed, nervously babbling as your body was still half asleep. “Lay b- back, baby… You’re so ti- tired, let me take c- care of you…” Toby sighed, running his hands back down along your skin, relishing in the way your body nervously shook under him.
You physically could not believe what was happening. This had to be a dream, some sick trick your mind was playing as you felt cold fingers hook under your panties, sliding them down. Heavy eyes wide, you grabbed his arms, clenching your thighs together against his waist. “No- No, wait- I don’t even, I mean, I’ve never-” Toby was already shushing you, gripping your wrists together and kissing your palms before pushing them back down to your sides, resuming his tug down your thighs. “I’ve go- got you. Don- Don’t gotta worry about a- a thing…” He smiled, raising your legs up to slide your panties down the rest of the way, hooking them off of your raised ankles before pulling you down closer to him, pushing your shirt over your head. “Read y- your journal, you don- don't gotta act protective, ba- baby. I know this is what y- you want…” If you weren’t already panicking, you definitely were now. 
You wanted to hound him for snooping through your journal, mouth opening to tell him off. But as his fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds, you lost all train of thought. He was watching you, eyes excited in the darkness of your room as he swiped his thumb closer again, your thighs flinching shut. “Anyone else e- ever touched here before?” He mumbled, pressing his thumb against your plump lips and tugging them open, getting a nice look at the wetness that was already forming between your folds. Shaking your head, Toby lit up, cock pushing hard against his jeans as he had to adjust his position, using both hands to pull your lips apart, sighing at how pretty your cunt was. Just something about knowing that Toby was claiming his stake on you, imprinting his touch for the first time before anyone else could, made something deep inside of him burn. It wasn’t like the brunette got much play himself, hooking up with a girl here and there, but being your first? That already made this so much better than any other girl could even try. 
Sliding his fingers through your wetness, you gasped, hands clutching the pillow behind your head as he groaned, spreading your arousal across your lower abdomen. You whined, thighs begging to clench together as he purposefully slid your juices over your cunt, pressing his thumb down against your swollen clit and jolting your back off the mattress. You had only ever masturbated here and there, your body getting too overwhelmed after one orgasm and forcing you to stop, but would Toby stop? As he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, you doubted his restraint.
“Please be gentle…” You warned, hands planting on the mattress as you sat up, resting on your elbows as you watched Toby bring his digits back down to your cunt. He rolled his eyes playfully, tugging your folds open with his opposite hand as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance, pressing in slowly. “I’ll try…” He laughed, your fingers gripping the sheets tight as you watched his fingers sink in slow, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. His index and middle fingers screwed into your tight walls gently, twisting his wrist to draw a moan from your lips, digits spreading against your gummy walls and making your entrance ache. “Just i- imagine my dick in here…” He cooed, eyes darting between your nervous face and your pretty cunt fluttering around just his fingers, barely even handling them. 
Pressing his opposite thumb against your clit, he began to rub in small circles, dragging your hips further and further off of the mattress until you were practically rolling your hips against him. His fingers probed in and out of your cunt at a slow pace, just enough to make you comfortable with the unfamiliar intrusion, but his arms ached to go faster, curl his fingers until you spasmed. “Toby…” You sighed, his hands moving in time with other as he screwed his fingers inside of you, angling them just enough so they pressed against your tight walls. His name sounded like heaven against your aroused tongue, so quiet but so desperate, secretly drawling for more. “Tell me w- what you want, ba- baby…” The pet name made your face hot, your stomach fluttering as you pressed back into the pillows, running your hands down to your thighs and squeezing the flesh. “I want… more…” You sighed through your arousal, cunt clenching desperately around Toby’s cold fingers, sucking them back inside every time he drew them out. The brunette laughed, pushing his feet under him to push his hips up against your ass, your hips raising off the bed as he fingered down into you. You could feel his cock straining behind his jeans below your raised ass, twitching needily with every tug of his fingers and moan that whined from your throat. His size was overwhelming, making your heart pound as Toby began to curl his fingers, making your eyes shut quickly. 
His fingers pressed so deep in your cunt, curling against your sensitive walls and making your jaw hang, beginning to press against your walls at a steady rhythm. It was like a new fire had lit under Toby, fingers screwing in at a quicker pace and making your stomach clench, face screwing into an overwhelmed feeling. His fingers pumped in, knuckles sinking in through your wetness and gripped by your gummy walls, curling his fingertips just right as he got deep. It was so intense, so rough, just a mess of slick and your wet cunt sounding through the room with every squelch as he abused your clit, swiping left and right quickly. Your thighs twitched and ached with every curl, trying to close around his hand practically fucking you into sensitivity. Your hands wrapped around his forearm quickly, begging his wrists to stop curling abusively inside of you as you tugged your nails into his skin. Toby wouldn’t, continuing to pump his fingers as he stared at your flushed face, cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. “Just a l- little more… Co- Come on…” He groaned, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milked moans and whines out of you, his fingers glistening with your arousal every time he tugged them out. He couldn’t feel you clawing at his arms, loud groans begging him to let up as your cunt clenched, molding around his thick fingers. 
You could feel your orgasm rolling through you, Toby huffing as the veins in his arms popped, his shoulder muscles straining against his shirt as he watched your face carefully, picking up as your moans became louder. “Gonna come f- for me? Yeah?” He teased, clothed cock twitching against your ass, pushing your cheeks apart as he rutted against you. He curled his fingers quicker, mumbling his arousal as he watched your cunt swell around him, clit throbbing under his thumb. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stomach tightening and forcing you to sit up, Toby was quick to let off your clit and wrap his arm around your back, holding you up as he pumped your through your cunt squelching, tightening around his digits. Your eyes rolled, teeth grit tight as he palmed your clit, slowing his pace to a slow thrust as you became undone against him. No orgasm of your own had ever compared to that, head light and chest heavy as you breathed quickly, gripping Toby’s shirt tight. 
Refusing to let you go, Toby leaned in, pressing kisses against your neck and licking at your sweat, relishing in the warmth around his digits. You whined, cunt sensitive as he tugged his fingers out, his skin raw and pruned against the wetness coating his digits. Your folds were absolutely drenched, Toby spreading his fingers through your lips and pushing his sopping fingers over your warm thighs wrapped around him. “God, y- you’re so wet-” He gasped, pressing his fingertips back against your clit as he laid you back, gripping your tit. Your mind panicked, cunt flashing with sensitivity as he began to rub against your clit, swiping left and right against the rub quickly. “Toby- Stop- Toby, please-” You cried, breath catching in your throat as your stomach clenched, his fingers pressing hard as he pinched your nipples, eyes trained on your wet pussy. “You e- ever squirt before?” He smiled, transitioning fast between digging his fingers into your cunt and pulling them back out to swipe against your clit. It was nauseating, cunt crying desperately for relief as he dug nails into your tits. Gasping loudly, you gripped his arms, knees screwing tight against his sides as you cried out, hips bucking up against his hands. 
Every time his fingers slipped into your entrance, they squelched loudly, fluttering around the intrusion before desperately aching as they tugged out and moved onto your clit. “Squirt li- like a whore, m- mkay? Quit fightin’.” He hissed, letting his hand off your tit and scooping under your left knee, pushing it back to open your cunt wider, spreading your legs further apart. Your head was dizzy, heart pounding as you gasped for air, panting at every push of his fingers. You were already quick to cumming, but it felt weird, not that normal clench you felt in your stomach, more of a strain against your cunt itself. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as he forced your pussy against his will, ruining you. 
As he swiped his fingertips down hard against your clit, your entrance clenched, mouth opening wide as you cried out, hips bucking up as you felt your cunt squirt, thighs trembling hard. There was literally nothing to compare it to, mind hazy as you sprayed onto his black shirt, his fingers digging into your entrance and pushing more juices out of your swollen folds. Toby was smiling, moaning his approval as he rubbed your clit softly, pushing the last of your orgasm out as you strained against the mattress. “Gunna fu- fuck you dumb, baby…” He growled, tugging the soaked shirt over his head and tossing it as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down and off his legs as his cock hung heavy against your drenched cunt. You couldn’t even react, head spinning as Toby gripped your hips, pushing you onto your side as he grabbed your ankle, pulling it onto his shoulder and straddling your other. 
Neck craning with excitement, he teased the tip of his swollen cock between your folds, slicking himself up with your ruined juices. “This is wh- what you wanted, is- isn’t it?” He smiled wildly, pressing his cock into your ruined cunt, groaning loudly as you swallowed him in, warmth gripping tight as he gripped your leg, other hand stable on your tit. You groaned, face turned into the pillow as he began to thrust deep, giving you no mercy as he tugged at your nipple, biting at your calf as he fucked into you. You felt so full, your body so exhausted already as stretched you further, your entrance burning against the sting of this new girth. You squeezed him so tight, cock forcing itself deeper with every tug of his hips as you began to cry, tears staining your pillowcase.
“Fuckin’ tal- alk to me, baby. Gunna mak- make me cum al- already.” He sighed, teeth chewing against the meat of your calf as he pressed your cunt wider, sweat dripping from his nose as his curls clung to his forehead. He let off your tit, left hand slinking up to grip your jaw and turn your face back to look at him, your eyes heavy as they blurred with tears. Toby looked so good right now, cheeks dark against his freckles as he towered above you, cock pushing against your gummy walls and making your mouth hang. “So pretty…” He smiled, slinking his hand down to your throat and squeezing, cock pulsing as your face tightened, mouth gasping out as he clamped tighter, refusing you air. There was something so orgasmic about cutting your airway, watching your body react as he fucked your virgin cunt, holding your life in his hands. He had to breathe deep to stop himself from cumming, his violent brain spasming out. 
He pushed your ankle over his head, pulling out roughly as he rolled you onto your stomach, you gasping from the wave of air hitting your lungs. Pushing himself against your ass, Toby swore, pushing his cock back into your cunt as he pushed your back down, making you arch against him. “Just a l- little more, m’kay?” He growled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and squeezing hard, pressing your face down into the pillow. With a new pace, he fucked down into you wildly, hand kneading your ass hard as digging his nails into your skin, little welts forming across the soft flesh. Your muffled cries sounded against the pillow, head light and static filled as you gasped for air, Toby’s cock ramming down against your g-spot. “Never s- seen a bitch so willing, so des- desperate for my dick you’d gi- give it up so easily.” He teased, growling as he let off your neck, neck sore as he leaned down, pushing your hair off your neck. Toby hadn’t felt like this before, wanting to mark you, fucking you so desperately he wanted to carve his shape deep inside. He couldn’t let you go without knowing exactly who you craved, corrupting you, ruining you, molding you to fit only him. 
He licked against your shoulder, sucking onto the skin before he pressed his teeth, digging both hands into your hips as he sunk them in, groaning at the pop as your blood soaked his teeth. You were crying, screaming into the pillow as your entire body begged for him, craving him, mind going blank as your blood dripped from his chin as he licked at the wound. He pressed on, nibbling into the crook of your neck and sucking revolting hickies into your skin, marking you like an animal. “Wan- Want you to come on m- my cock, baby. I got- gotta fill you full, want y- you ruined for everyone b- but me.” He mumbled quickly, cock begging to spill inside of your warm cunt as you reached around, gripping his hair as he sunk his teeth in again, walls fluttering around him. You pulled his hair, dragging his mouth off of your neck and to your lips, smashing your swollen, tear-stained lips against his as he groaned, kissing you roughly. 
You were cumming again, back arching onto Toby’s cock as you moaned into his mouth, walls holding him tight inside. He tried to move, to continue thrusting, but you were so tight all he could do was rutt his hips, begging for friction as his own seed spilt, his brows screwing tight as he came deep inside of you, warm cum seeping deep into your cunt. Your mind was blank, eyes rolled as you cried into his grasp, his nails digging into your hips until you were nearly bleeding. Your cunt squelched, milking his cock as he finally pulled from your lips, letting the last of your orgasms fizzle out before he pushed off of you, slowly tugging himself out as you whined. Looking back, his cock was soaked, glistening with your arousal and streaks of blood, Toby’s eyes wide. “Ah… Yo- You tore…” He hissed, wiping his soft cock with his shirt before pulling his boxers on, quickly trotting out of your room. You dropped your head back onto the pillow, cunt aching and body ruined as you sat in your sweat and each other’s cum, mind tired as you slowly blinked. 
Toby was back in seconds, a water bottle, a wet rag, and a small bag all in tow as he climbed back onto the bed, flipping your lazy body onto your back. You smiled, sipping the water bottle slowly as he began to clean you up, gently running the warm rag between your folds and against your thighs until he was satisfied, gently rubbing your skin. Finally, he grabbed the bag, your confusion evident as he tugged out the prescription bag, rummaging for the plan b he made you buy and popping one of the pills out, handing it to you as he smiled. Your chest welled, previous anxiety dissipating until you began to tear up, taking the small pill before reaching to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down next to you. Toby went easily, body cradling against yours as he kissed against the bruised spots on your neck, rubbing your bite mark gently.
As you began to doze, Toby mumbled something about your note, your mind too dizzy to hear the rest. The last thing you saw was a subtle flash behind your eyelids, sleep overtaking you as Toby held you close.
-
Morning came quickly, your body stirring, reaching for Toby but finding the bed empty. Confused, you sat up, eyes heavy and head still pounding but you pressed off the bed anyway, searching for the boy. Downstairs, on the countertop, laid his hoodie neatly folded, with a small piece of paper resting on top. Sauntering over, you reached for the top, sliding it over your head, it falling before your hips as you gripped the paper, reading its contents.
On a mission. Be back later tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy ;)
Flipping the paper over, you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth. A small picture was taped to the back, a polaroid-type photo of the two of you cradled together, your bare body pressed against his, bruises and sweat on full display. Smiling, you tucked it into his pocket, breathing the scent of his hoodie deep as Addy circled your ankles, begging for breakfast. 
Staring out your back porch door, you made sure it was unlocked, always open for him. Killer or not, that boy was yours now, accepting his every mishap the same way he did yours. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted. 
Rest in Hell, Mr. Higgs.
This was an anonymous request!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
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mcumorningstar · 4 months ago
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Prove It, Cowboy
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pairing: dodge mason x reader
summary: after the player's ball, you find yourself without a bed for the night until dodge offers for you to stay at his, but when his mom and sister catch you sneaking in they get the wrong impression.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, dry humping, protected sex (p in v), dodge’s mom and sister being kinda invasive about his sex life (?)
a/n: dodge and his mom being so open about her sex life was so funny to me. this is kinda the reverse of a canon conversation... kinda! also i had a dream i went to one of dodge’s rodeos but he was flirting with all the girls so he was my enemy for a few days <3
A midnight sky hung over Carp, Texas when you arrived at Dodge’s house. Dodge put a finger to his lips fruitlessly as the front gate creaked loudly. The curtains of the front room twitched.
A female voice came from inside the house, “Dodge’s brought a girl home!”
Shit.
“That’s Dana,” Dodge sighed, fiddling with his keys and rubbing his forehead with a tight smile. Before he turned the keys in the lock, he turned to you, “Sorry, in advance.”
Your brows screwed together as he guided you inside.
After the player’s ball, Heather disappeared and so you were left without a bed for the night. God forbid you sneak into your own house and face the wrath of your parents.
Dodge came to the rescue.
A sigh fell from his lips at the sight of his mom and sister waiting in the living room doorway with excited smiles and hooded eyes. They behaved more like sisters than mother and daughter. It was sweet.
A dim lamp on the entrance table and the bright colours of the TV cast shadows across the room.
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You smiled politely despite two pairs of unfamiliar eyes trained on you.
God they must think you’re here to sleep with him or something.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m Jessica. You want something to drink?” Dodge’s mom raised her glass of red wine, “We’re watching Jeopardy.“
She was a very beautiful woman, cherub cheeks and bright green eyes. Dodge was all hard angles, he must take after his dad.
Dodge ducked into the sea-foam coloured kitchen to grab two waters from the refrigerator.
“I’m Dana!” His sister beamed. She shared an unspoken look with Dodge, who rolled his eyes. Before you could thank her, Dodge rejoined your side.
“She’s locked out and just wants somewhere to sleep,” He quelled their unspoken barrage of questions.
His mom nodded along, as if he was lying, “Okay well there’s spare blankets in the laundry room, condoms in the bathroom...”
“Oh my god,” Dodge cursed under his breath, “We’re going now.”
Jessica and Dana giggled behind their glasses of wine, the right side of drunk, “The book, Dodge.”
She winked with exaggeration, her filter totally gone with the amount she’d drank but she was clearly having a fun night in.
Dodge shook his head with a flustered laugh.
With a hand on your back, Dodge guided you to his bedroom. Your face flushed at the unexpected attention and the suggestive situation.
The two laughed rather loudly, saying how pretty you are and how Dodge will fair with a girl spending the night, for the first time you assumed.
The sound of the women stifling laughter echoed around the house. Dodge closed his bedroom door with a sheepish and apologetic smile.
His room was pretty plain; grey bedsheets, grey walls, rodeo trophies and medals, a bookshelf with framed photos on. It smelt like laundry soap and his cologne.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” He offered, tossing his backpack onto the carpet.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t bite,” You teased, as you looked at his collection of trophies and books, “Plus they already think we’re fucking.”
Dodge gave a quick laugh, watching you read the spines on the shelf.
“What book was your mom talking about?” You turned to him and his face flushed.
“You heard that, huh?” He mumbled, “It was a joke really. She thinks she’s funny.”
Even more intrigued by his avoidance, you sized him up with squinted eyes.
Dodge cleared his throat, tidying away a pile of laundry sitting on his bed, “They uh… god this is… They used to worry about me with- with girls. They thought I was a virgin because I never brought girls home to meet them or anything… and so for Secret Santa one year I got a book about… women… My mom insists it wasn’t her and that whoever it was was trying to be funny…”
There was a long pause. Dodge shied away from your eyes, his body turned away from you, despite the little air of embarrassed laughter.
Dodge cleared his throat again, “Super weird, I know. She had kids super young and didn’t want us to make the same mistake. Not that me and Dana are mistakes but it was hard for her. She’s cool about that sorta thing though. Dana’s ex-boyfriend used to stay over all the time and she didn’t care. So if you’re worried, she won’t say anything about you being here or anything.”
Another bout of silence fell between you as Dodge assessed your features, his lips pursed and shoulders tight.
“I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me,” You laughed and Dodge visibly relaxed.
“No, it’s cool. Not cool but, you know, I wish my family were cooler about sex. My dad saw your name in my phone and reached for his shotgun,” You laughed, “Anyway, a book is probably better than drunk hook ups at the lake.”
“Yeah probably,” Dodge nodded, leaning against the bookshelf, and there was a lull in the conversation.
“Oh… did you read it?” You giggled, a flush of red creeping up his neck and ears, “You did!”
“You can’t prove anything,” Dodge shook his head with a half-cocked smile.
“But you could,” You raised your eyebrows and he furrowed his. It was a joke, he knew that, but Dodge steeled his expression and licked his lips.
“Yeah?”
You kept your eyes on his for a long moment before smiling, “Yeah. Prove it.”
You reached out and rested a hand on his stomach. His abs were tight and lean under his button-up shirt.
One by one, you unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, running your hands along the sturdy plane of his stomach and chest.
Conflicting thoughts ran through your head. Heather was like your sister and Natalie had been planning to win Panic for years.
Would fucking Dodge Mason, their competition, be a good idea?
Your judgement was clouded by the heat radiating from his skin and the smattering of hair on his chest. His dual coloured eyes watched your face as you stood before him, admiring him.
“I saw you like this at the jump but not up close,” You rested your hands on his shoulders, biting your lip, “Thank you, saddle bronc.”
Dodge couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his cheeks, as a sputtered laugh escaped his lips.
In one movement, Dodge threw you over his shoulder and deposited you on his bed, kneeling over you.
A soft line of kisses traced along your arm to your shoulder. With every press of his lips, you itched to feel them against yours, whining at the wait.
Pink and plump, his lips pressed to the corner of your mouth before he pulled back to look down at you, stilling hovering over you.
Taking his head in your hands, you craned your neck to kiss him. Each press of his lips had you sighing contently and the swipe of his tongue had you moaning.
Dodge licked into your mouth with fervour, tongue and lips colliding with no precision, only desire.
You hooked your leg over his hips and rolled him onto his back beneath you, straddling his hips.
Dodge instinctively gripped your hips and watched with kiss-bitten lips and doe eyes as you discarded your dress onto his bedroom floor.
“You gonna give me some tips, cowboy?”
Dodge groaned, your hands pressing against his chest, as he slowly guided the rocking of your hips against his.
With every roll of your hips, your tits bounced in the lacy cups of your bra. His eyes flickered between your chest and your pink panties, rubbing against his bulge.
Dodge groaned, tightening his grip on your hips, “Lean forward.”
Following his instructions, a loud moan escaped you at the change in pressure against your clit.
“Good girl, you’re doing so good,” He rumbled, rutting his hips against yours in a perfect rhythm. Warmth bloomed in your chest at his praise.
Thank you, saddle bronc.
His muscles rippled and bulged underneath your hands as the slick between your legs dampened the skin of your inner thighs.
Cupping a hand at the nape of your neck, Dodge guided your mouth to his, kissing you with pinched brows and deep groans. Pulling away from the heated make out and pressing a deep kiss to his lips, you sat up and unbuttoned his jeans.
Dodge lay back, stroking your thighs and watching you with bated breath. Pulling him from his trance, you hooked a finger into the elastic waistband of his boxers, twanging the material against his alabaster skin.
A smile twitched at his lips as he slowly sat up and kissed you softly, rolling you onto your back. Dodge pushed his jeans off and lay between your legs, the hard length of his cock pressing into your inner thigh.
Settling your hands on each other's heated skin, Dodge kissed you deeply and nipped at your bottom lip playfully. His strong arms wrapped around you, his hand palming at the globe of your ass.
Warm and plump lips mouthed at your neck, teeth tugging the strap of your bra from your shoulder and kissing at the newly bare skin. He unhooked your bra, tossing it onto the floor and laving his tongue at your pebbled nipples.
"Please, need you," You whined, clawing at his shoulders. Dodge pressed a final kiss to your chest before sitting on his haunches and pulling your panties down your legs.
With firm hands on your inner thighs, Dodge parted your legs and bit his lip, staring at your dripping sex. You squirmed under his undivided attention, hooking your calf around his waist and pulling him on top of you.
Kissing him deeply, you pushed his boxer briefs down his hips, dragging your nails across his back once his erection sprung free. The wet tip smacked against your heated skin.
Dodge kicked his boxers off and reached into his nightstand, tearing the foil of a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolling the rubber onto his cock.
Caressing his biceps, you watched as he hovered over you and lined himself against your entrance. You hooked a leg around his hip, gasping into his open mouth as he slowly thrust into you.
Dodge's eyes fluttered shut as his hips pressed flush against yours. A ragged breath escaped his lips, tickling the skin of your neck. Dropping his head to your shoulder, Dodge sighed shakily.
"C'mon cowboy," You rolled your hips, "Buck."
Dodge let out a mix of a soft groan and a laugh into your neck, "You feel really good."
A small giggle fell from you, scratching your fingers through his hair. You bucked your hips again and Dodge clamped a hand on your hip, pulling back and rolling his hips against you.
Picking up the pace, Dodge fucked his thick cock against the sensitive spot deep within your cunt. Sloppy wet sounds echoed around the room with each buck of his hips.
Sweat beaded on your skin as the coil within the pit of your stomach tightened. Your nails clawed at the rippling muscles of Dodge's back, his skin slapping against yours.
Groans tumbled from his lips, pressing heated kisses to your skin, silencing your loud moans with his tongue in your mouth.
Digging your heels into his ass, you tightened your legs around his hips, letting him push one against your chest and his cock sinked deeper into you.
A broken gasp escaped you before his hand clamped over your mouth and his hips stopped, pressing his weight onto you.
The sound of footsteps outside his door and the subsequent flicking of light switches and closing doors alerted Dodge to the presence of his mom going to bed.
Dodge met your eyes, willing you to be quiet, as he continued to fuck you. Your brows pinched together as your interrupted pleasure began to build again, noises muffled by his strong hand.
Pressing his forehead to yours, Dodge slowed his pace and you took the opportunity to turn him onto his back, keeping his cock nestled in your cunt.
A surprised grunt tumbled from his chest and his hands groped at your body, holding you against him. You wasted no time before raising your hips and bouncing on his cock.
Dodge moaned and his eyes rolled back, covering his own mouth. A sheen of sweat on his skin glistened in the limited light. Leaning forward, your clit caught against his pubes, igniting a hotter flame within you.
"Good," Dodge praised, brushing your hair out of your face and watching your tits bounce in his face, "Such a good cowgirl."
He tipped his head back further into his plush pillow and his knees bent off the bed, fucking into you, his body pulling taut at the impending release.
"Gonna cum," Dodge rasped, panting and licking his dry lips.
You couldn't form words, only nodding, meeting his eyes and rocking your hips with the uncoordinated buck of his. The band within you was one thread away from snapping before Dodge gripped your jaw and pulled you into a heated kiss.
White hot bliss coursed through your body as you moaned into his mouth. Dodge mouthed at your unresponsive mouth, too preoccupied with moans of pleasure to reciprocate his kisses.
Dodge pulled back to watch your orgasm wash over you before he hit his peak, white ropes of cum filling the condom as he groaned deeply.
Sinking into the mattress, you lay on his sweaty chest, both trying to catch your breath. Dodge discarded the condom in the trash by his bed and pulled you into his side.
His cheeks and neck were rosy with exertion and he ran a hand up and down your back, "You should try saddle bronc."
Fucked out, you laughed into his sweaty chest, "You should keep that book."
Slowly you drifted into a blissful sleep, bodies entwined and satiated.
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lulunothulu · 3 months ago
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“Yes, sir.”
Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: Bob is known to be the sweet and shy one of the Dagger Squat. Little do they know, as soon as he comes home to you, he sheds that persona—but only for you.
Content: 18+ smut, some fluff, a hungry Bob 😏
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I feel like it’s canon that Bob fucks so let’s let him fuck us…for science 💗😇 Enjoy!!
Robert Floyd was many things. Shy? Yes. Quiet? Sure. But he was not one to leave his girl longing for anything. That’s why when you’d texted him, asking him to come home straight after work, he didn’t hesitate to make sure he did as soon as he was dismissed for the day.
“Baby on board!” Hangman calls out in the locker room. “Where are you going in a hurry?”
“Um, home?” He responds.
“I thought you were coming to Hard Deck with us,” Bradley says, poking his head from behind a locker door.
Fuck he said that didn’t he?
“Sorry,” he smiles. “Can we rain check?”
Hangman smiles, a knowing look practically shooting out of his eyes. “It’s your girl isn’t it?”
Bob only blushes, stammering, “Wh-why, well, umm…”
“Don’t worry,” Hangman smiles and winks at him. “My Darlin’ is the same way. You go get to her.”
Bob almost choked on his saliva, Bradley does it for him and causes Jake to turn around in surprise.
“What?!” Bradley asks when he’s calmed down.
“‘What’ what?” Jake asks back. “You didn’t know baby on board had a girl?”
“Nat told me about her but I thought she was pulling my leg,” Bradley responds.
Bob can hear Jake tell him something but that’s when he steps out of the locker room and heads toward the parking lot. Reaching his truck, Bob pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before starting his drive home.
———
Pulling into the driveway of y'all's small home, Bob was anxious to get inside. From the text you'd send him about an hour ago, it sounded like you urgently needed him home after work.
Bounding for the front door, Bob swings it open expecting to see you in tears. However, he finds you seated on the kitchen island in nothing but a white lacy set of lingerie and matching stockings. On your feet are the heels you reserve when you're feeling extra fun.
Racking his brain, Bob tries to remember if there was something important happening today.
His birthday isn't for another few months, yours already passed...an anniversary?
You chuckle, watching your boyfriend try to think of what could've prompted this look.
"Are you gonna mull over what why I'm dressed like this, or are you gonna come over here and kiss me?" you ask, a smirk on your lips.
Bob nods, dropping his bag at the entryway before closing and locking the front door and practically running to kiss you.
"Hi, baby," he murmurs against your lips.
"Hi, Bobby," you respond, smiling into the kiss he presses to your lips.
He pulls away to take you in, admiring the way the flimsy fabric sits on your body.
Bob's navy eyes darken, turning almost midnight blue with lust and desire. "You did this for me?"
You nod, biting your lip and smiling.
Bob's eyes practically undress you as they roam down your body. He licks his thin lips before smiling and taking his glasses off, hooking them on the neckline of his shirt. You watch as he drops to his knee before you, a smirk appearing and face transforming to the alter ego Bob takes on when he fucks you.
"Are my dinner tonight?" he asks, voice deep and gravely. When you nod, he clicks his tongue. "You know I like when you use your words, Princess."
You hold in your smile before finally speaking. "Yes, I'm dinner for tonight. Unless you want something, then I can—”
Bob stops you, kissing the top of your thighs before opening them and kissing from the inside of your knee toward your pulsing core.
"What was that?" he asks between kisses.
"Nothing," you sigh, watching as his eyes slowly raise to meet your own.
He pulls you closer to him, smiling when you yelp at the motion. He resumes kissing up your other thigh until he reaches the thin fabric of your lacy thong.
The sensation of his breathing on top of your pulsing clit makes you whimper, causing Bob to chuckle against you. A chill runs down your spine when he kisses you over the fabric.
"Lift your hips," Bob orders.
When you do, he pulls the thong down, bringing the stockings down with before slowly pulling your heels off and peeling the rest of the thong and stockings off. He throws them to the side, smiling down at your cunt before squinting and pulling his glasses on.
"Keep them on," you tell him.
"They look dorky," he laughs.
"And I like how dorky you look in them," you smile.
Bob's eyes darken behind those circular lenses before he lowers himself back to your core and kisses your clit.
Warmth and electricity ignite from that spot, up your stomach, and then back down your legs. When he licks you from the bottom of your entrance to the tip of your clit, you moan his name.
“Fuck, Bobby,” you say, back arching a bit off the counter.
Bob chuckles, sending vibrations to your clit where his mouth is lightly sucking.
Another thing about Bob…he was a ravenous pussy eater. Once he starts, he won’t stop until you’re a shaking mess under him.
Moving his mouth, Bob laps your entrance, fucking you with his tongue and moaning at the taste of you. His nose continues where his tongue once was, nudging and flicking your clit as he eats you out.
Your hands fly to his hair, pulling lightly and gently moving his face back and forth, hips grinding into him.
You were so close, you could feel the wave or orgasms crashing into the lower part of your belly and you were desperate to let it go.
“Bobby!” You exclaim. “I’m so fucking close! Oh my god!”
Bob continues his licking, the tip of his dick pressing into his pants at the sounds of your unraveling. He smiles into your pussy when you finally come, sweet and tang coating his lips and tongue.
He only stops when you pull his head away from you.
Standing, Bob grabs the back of your neck before kissing you deeply. The taste of you still on his tongue making you smile and immediately feel that pulsing between your legs again.
“Stand up, baby,” he says, voice gruff and sending shivers down your body.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” you smile.
Bob’s hand slapping your ass as he turns you around makes you giggle in delight. You knew exactly what you were doing. You only call him Lieutenant when you were feeling extra and right now…you were feeling it.
“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” He growls against your ear.
“Yes, sir,” you mutter.
He slaps your ass again, a yelp of delight coming from your lips.
“Louder,” he orders.
“Yes, sir!” You cry out.
Bob squats down, spreading your ass before licking your cunt and up your ass.
“Oh fuck!” You cry out.
Bob kisses up your back, one hand on your waist and the other undoing his pants. He lets you go to pull his pants clean down and stepping out of the pile.
His erect dick presses into your bum, making you moan and grind against it. Stopping you, Bob grabs your neck, kissing harshly.
“Do you feel what you do to me?” He moans in your ear. “That outfit gets me so fucking hard.”
“I feel it, sir,” you tell him.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Princess?” He asks, nibbling on the sensitive spot on your neck.
“Yes,” you breathe.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir!”
Bob lines himself to your entrance, careful to angle himself to a position that’s comfortable for you before starting to thrust into you.
You’re tight. Almost too tight, Bob has to think of something else to keep from coming inside you at that second.
As he thrusts, you clench around him, walls wet and soft around him—making him speed his pace and mutter a fuck.
He can feel just how deep he is, and he can’t help but pound into you harder. The thought of being able to get himself completely in your cunt makes his head swim in lustful damnation.
He pulls out, spinning you around before lifting you in his arms.
“What’re you do—”
You don’t have time to finish what you were going to say because Bob is sinking you down onto his cock, gliding you up and down as he bucks up into you.
“Oh my god,” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut.
“No,” he growls. “Open your eyes when I fuck you.”
You obey, eyes locking on his navy ones and mouth forming an ‘o’.
He smiles at you before moaning. “You look so pretty taking my cock in the air.”
You moan in response, unable to form words. He walks you to a wall, pressing your back into it and speeding his pace again.
“Fuck baby,” he mutters, eyes still on you. “I’m so fucking close.”
“Come on my face,” you tell him.
“Come on my face, sir.” He corrects.
You smile. “Come on my face, daddy.”
Holy shit. Bob was gonna combust right inside you if you keep looking at him like that.
Pulling himself out of you and setting you in the floor gently, Bob watches as you get you to knees, mouth open and eyes still on his.
Pumping the last bit of orgasm to the tip, he spills all over your face with a groan.
He watches as you use your fingers to push his come into your mouth, making a show to swallow before opening your mouth.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he tells you, grabbing your hair and kissing you deeply.
“I love you,” you tell him when he pulls away.
“I love you more, Princess.” He tells you, helping you to your feet before sweeping his arms under your legs and carrying you to y’all’s room. “Now, let’s shower so we can go for a round two.”
Wheeeew…something’s crying between my legs. What..?
Tag: @sweetwhispersofchaos @ginghampearlsnsweettea @caystar13star @shinycupcakebaker @sunsetsimpsblog
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scarfacemarston · 3 months ago
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Could you please write some hc’s of how Kurt would physically feel? Like, how would his fur feel, his hair, his tail, his teeth when kissing, and how it would feel to hold hands (since his hand only has 3 fingers). Also, could you include a NSFW portion (if you want) of how his genitalia would feel, both with the reader feeing it with their hands, and how it would feel inside the reader. That would be great!
SFW: Kurt’s fur canonically feels like velvet. His fur is not at all the same as Beast’s. It’s very short and appears to be more like skin than actual fur. It is not all over every part of his body either. His body is more like fuzz than actual fur. He can overheat in the summer, but you would never hear him complain about the heat. However, you or his friends would have to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t catch heat stroke. He HATES feeling sweaty, though. It makes his fur stand in annoying directions. His entire tail is also like velvet, especially the spade tip. 
His palms and bottom of his feet do not have fur or fuzz on them. He’s fine with swimming if he chooses to, but it’s not something he does often. He’s fine with the rain, but he would prefer to wear a trench coat or something else sleek to protect himself. He’s fine with his hair getting wet, but the rest of his body sometimes annoys him.
His hair is like the finest silk, and you love running your fingers through his soft midnight blue tresses. He loves it just as much - more than you know. He has to keep himself quiet so you don’t tease him.  His hands are strong, with many callouses from training on and with bars and poles so often. You wouldn’t expect them to be so strong, just by looking at them! Like the rest of him, his hands are very soft. His hands are also very large, but not enough to be disproportionate to the rest of him. Needless to say, you feel secure holding his hands -even if it took a few tries to find what was comfortable for both of you. From that point forward, he loves holding hands and will randomly gently squeeze your hand or give reassurance that way. Him giving you back massages also feels very unique because of how strong his hands are, but don’t worry, he’s always gentle.
As for his teeth- he’s very careful not to bite you while kissing. He knows what he’s doing and is a talented kisser. He’ll give little nibbles to your lips in between kisses, with a soft swipe of his tongue following as an “apology”. His kisses on your neck or the rest of your body feel divine. He will never bite hard - he’s not an animal and doesn’t like being reminded of how different he is - but he will definitely nip playfully. You don’t know how he doesn't manage to leave bruises - but he likes to joke that’s one of his mutant powers.
Spicy content below:
For his tail: Kurt will use it in foreplay if requested, but it’s not always his first inclination. He’d like to at first please you in the “normal” ways before involving his tail. There’s a fine line between enjoying it and fetishizing him. If he feels like you’re fetishizing him, he will leave.
His pubic hair is actually less than you’d think. As for his dick, he's gifted. Prep and foreplay is an absolute must with Kurt and he’s all to happy to provide. However, he knows he's sizable but he is also terrified of hurting you. Expect a lot of “Are you alright, Liebling?” or “Is this okay, Mein Schatz?”
He’s thick and lengthy with a curved head and a few prominent veins, giving slight ridges like any veiny dick. It’s heavy in your hands and very responsive. There is a definite stretch when he enters you, hence the need for foreplay. However, both of you love the fullness and the closeness it brings the two of you.
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touyasdoll · 1 year ago
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Scream 2
this is a follow up to a fic I wrote last year for kinktober, but it’s not necessary to read that one before this one. it can stand alone <3
pairing: ghostface!Dabi x f!reader x ghostface!Hawks
warnings: DARK CONTENT, please be advised. CNC, dubcon, fear play, knife play, home invasion, threesome, double penetration in one hole, eiffel tower for lack of a better term, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), backshots, also Touya is 6'4 idc what the canon says, au where Hawks actually double crosses the HPSC bc a girl can dream, rough sex, not exactly hair pulling but hair grabbing, face sitting, thigh riding, size kink, dirty talk, biting, marking, overstimulation, mild degradation, praise, impact play (barely), nipple play, breeding, let me know if I missed any please <3
word count: 5.3k
notes: Happy Halloween! 👻🔪🖤
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“You’re absolutely sure about this?” Keigo asks as he narrows his golden irises at the white haired man before him on the rooftop. 
The sky is dark, especially in this part of the city. The few lights from the rundown buildings and buzzing street lamps provide the only meaningful illumination, as the moon is hidden behind a thick blanket of dark, heavy clouds that promise a storm is coming. 
“I’m sure. Don’t sweat it, feathers. Just stick to the plan and everything’ll be fine. Scout’s honor,” Touya replies, flashing a sardonic smile. 
“Your honor isn’t exactly worth much,” the hero scoffs. “But I guess I’ll have to take you at your word.”
Keigo’s dressed in his civilian clothes; an all black ensemble consisting of jeans, boots, and a well-fitting hoodie. He’d clearly heeded Touya’s instruction to dress for stealth, while the villain is still dressed in his stitched ensemble. 
“That’s a good little bird,” Touya says as he heads for the stairs. “Good luck. You might need it, hero.”
“Thanks,” he mutters, heaving an anxious sigh before he takes off into the cool night air.
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You’re just getting ready to turn in for the night. It had been a successful Halloween. You and Touya were able to watch a few spooky movies and take turns passing out candy before he had to leave for whatever PLF business he’s up to tonight. 
He actually seemed to enjoy himself whenever it was his turn to answer the door. Maybe it was because he got a kick out of seeing the kids’ reactions to his Ghostface mask, but you have a feeling it was more about seeing your reaction to the mask. 
He hasn’t pulled it out since last Halloween, much to your disappointment. He just looks so good in it. You could even do without the theatrics. Just being able to ride him or get railed while he has that damn mask on would be enough.
You were hoping that he’d give you an encore tonight. He did use the code the two of you had established. You vividly remember him slowly lifting off the mask after closing the door on another round of trick-or-treaters and sauntering over to the couch with a mischievous grin on his face. 
“Hey, doll. What’s your favorite scary movie?” He’d asked, the question so full of promise, just as it had been last year. 
But it was well past midnight now. He’d said that he might be back late tonight, which is usually how it goes when he’s working. Maybe you two could have your fun on another night, you suppose as you retreat to your bedroom. 
You change into one of Touya’s t-shirts before you slip beneath the covers and just before you rest your head, your phone rings. Seeing that it’s your boyfriend, you pick it right up. 
“Hey, baby,” you greet him, sitting up against the headboard. 
Unfortunately, you don’t hear a word that he says. What you do hear is much more terrifying. A loud, sudden thud reverberates throughout the house and you swear it must be coming from your kitchen, but you were just in there hardly a minute ago. Surely, you’d notice someone creeping around your house, right?
Then again, you hadn’t noticed last year. Maybe he was keeping up the tradition after all. Trying to pull the wool over your eyes again to give you a scare. Well, not this year. You know better. 
“Sorry, baby. You were breaking up,” you say calmly as you slip out of bed and creep into the hall. “What did you say?”
You’d play along with his little game, but you know that you have no reason to be truly afraid. He’s probably hiding behind a corner somewhere, watching you as you pad about the house in nothing but his t-shirt and your underwear. The thought actually turns you on quite a bit. 
“I said I’m about to head home. Sorry things took so long, but I should be back soon. M’not far,” Touya says as he jingles his keys in his hand. 
“Okay. I was just about to turn in to bed, but I’ll wait up for you,” you say as you head into the kitchen to turn the light on. 
There’s a large duffel bag in the center of the floor and you can’t help but wonder what might be inside. Seems like he’s really trying to up the ante this time. Your insides start twisting with a heady mixture of both excitement and desire, but then you see a figure who seems too short to be your boyfriend step into the other entrance to the kitchen and your heart stops. 
“You don’t gotta wait up if you’re tired, doll,” Touya says on the other end of the phone, confirming that it’s definitely not him staring you down in that familiar Ghostface costume. 
“Babe,” you whisper, your voice trembling in fear as you take a step back and the masked intruder takes one with you. “S-someone’s in the house.”
“What?” Touya asks and you can hear the fear in his voice as well, which sends your blood pressure through the roof. “Doll, just stay hidden. I will be there as soon as I can. I’m on my way, okay? Where are you?”
“O-okay,” you respond meekly, your voice cracking as you continue to walk backwards. 
The intruder keeps at your pace, tilting his head to one side as he studies you. Your eyes are drawn to something glinting in the light as he reveals a blade from behind his robe. 
“Doll, where are you? Do they know you’re there?” Touya asks frantically as he fires up the car and takes off. 
You only faintly hear his voice and the tires skidding in the background of the call as you freeze up. Everything slows down for just a moment and then the adrenaline kicks in. 
You bolt for the front door, only to find that it’s locked from the outside somehow. You try again in vain to jiggle the handle, praying that maybe it’s just stuck, but it’s definitely fucking locked and that causes you to panic all over again. 
“Doll? Doll, answer me,” Touya yells loud enough for you to hear it even though you’ve since dropped your phone to your side. 
You don’t hear the stranger coming up behind you, but when you look over your shoulder, he’s right there. Close enough to kill you if he wanted. 
You scream in fright and drop the phone in your haste to bolt for the back door, but he jumps in your way. He’s on the smaller side, but he seems especially nimble. You aren’t sure you stand much of a chance getting away from him, but you have to try. 
You just have to last until Touya gets home. That’s what you keep telling yourself. A mantra that you repeat over and over in your mind as you scramble down the hall and into the first open door. 
The slam of the door knocks some sense back into you. You keep your hands pressed against it and take a look around the guest bedroom, eyeing the dresser nearby. It’s mostly empty and it’s not very big, but it’s better than nothing. 
A loud bang that sounds like a heavy fist thudding against the wood startles you and you let out a scream before you lurch towards the dresser to start sliding it across the floor. 
“Doll? Doll, where are you?” You hear Touya’s voice call out from down the hall. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. Do you come out? Touya’s more than capable, but you don’t know what this intruder is capable of. What’s his quirk? What if it’s deadly?
Your heart thumps wildly in your chest as you listen for sounds of a struggle, but your fear of something happening to your boyfriend wins out over your fear of something happening to you. 
“Babe?” You call as you burst out of the door, frantically scanning the dimly lit house as you creep down the hall once more. 
The kitchen lights have been turned off and it’s quiet. It’s silent. Eerily so. Just when you feel like you might have made a mistake, the stranger turns the corner from the kitchen and holds a voice changer up to his mouth. 
“Yes, doll?” He says, tilting his head in a mocking fashion as he slowly stalks closer to you. 
Your eyes go wide as you realize that you’d definitely fucked up and you attempt to retreat back to the relative safety of the guest room, but you hear footsteps right behind you. He’s moving too fast. He covers twice the distance that you’re able to and throws himself across the doorway before lifting the device to his concealed mouth again. 
“Fooled ya,” he says in the familiar, raspy distorted voice of Ghostface. 
Tears well in your eyes as you turn tail and run straight for the backdoor. You aren’t thinking, just moving. Hurtling towards freedom, which you are hoping against hope you are able to find, but all hope is lost when you suddenly collide with another figure in the kitchen. 
You slam into their firm chest and tilt your head back to look up at the imposing new intruder, who is also dressed as the masked fictional killer.
“Fuck,” you mutter, gaping up at the taller of the two in horror as you turn on your heel, only to find the other one right behind you. 
Both of them begin closing in, sauntering towards you silently. All that you can hear is the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears as you back yourself up to the island. The shorter stranger looks between you and his companion in crime, who nods in response as your heart sinks into your stomach. 
“Please. Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper, shrinking against the cool marble countertop. 
The shorter of the two lifts the voice changer to his lips and uses his other hand to brandish the knife once more, using the blade to lift the hem of your shirt and press the flat of the cold steel blade to your stomach.
“We’re not gonna hurt you, gorgeous. We just wanna play,” he says as he leans in closer. 
“I thought you liked playin’ like this, doll?” The taller one asks as he tilts his head to one side. 
You whip your head towards him, because you could swear that’s your boyfriend’s voice, but you’ve already been tricked once tonight. He flashes his palms, revealing no voice changer in his hand. No knife either. He snaps his fingers together and a brilliant blue flame burns away the glove concealing his hand to reveal familiar scars and staples. 
“T-Touya?” You ask shakily, blinking in surprise. “Then who the fuck is..?”
Your heart rate finally starts to slow as you trail off and shake your head, looking at the other Ghostface in confusion. You reach out to rip the mask off and are stunned to find Keigo’s wilder than usual blonde hair and disarming golden gaze beneath the disguise. 
“Happy Halloween, doll,” Touya purrs as you stare at Keigo’s handsome smirk. 
“I-I don’t understand,” you say quietly, not wanting to assume that what you sincerely hope might happen is actually about to happen. 
“Sure ya do,” Touya continues, his large hands finding your hips to draw you closer and bring your back flush against his chest, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as Keigo sets the knife down on the counter without taking his hungry eyes off of you. “You remember us having this conversation, don’t you?”
Your brow furrows and you look away from the hero as you try to remember just what in the fuck Touya is on about when you recall him prompting you with an unusual question a few months ago.
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You were sitting on the couch, curled up watching a movie. Sleep was beginning to tug at you, trying to beckon you to bed, but you were stubborn and insisted on staying up to see the end of the film, even though Touya was making it that much more difficult by rubbing his unnaturally warm hands along your back. 
“Say, if we were ever to have a threesome with one of our friends, who would you want it to be with?” He’d asked you seemingly out of the blue, but unknown to you, he’d been ruminating on how to top his Halloween escapade for some time already. 
“Hmm?” You ask as you tilt your head back to look at him and shrug. “I don’t know. You don’t exactly have a whole lot of friends. No offense.”
“None taken. I’d consider that a compliment,” he says, shrugging. “But seriously. Well, hypothetically, I guess. If ya had to pick one, who would it be? There’s plenty of hot people in the PLF.”
You hum curiously, taking a moment to think it over as you tuck your face back into his chest and nuzzle into him. 
“Keigo. He’s hot and I’d trust him,” you reply bluntly, a yawn escaping you a moment later. 
“Good choice. You’re right on both counts,” he murmurs, a plan already coming together in his mind. “That could be fun.”
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“I didn’t think.. I mean–I–,” you balk, looking between them in disbelief. 
“I wasn’t bein’ hypothetical, gorgeous,” Touya says as he spins you around to catch your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting your head back so that his blue eyes can bore into you while Keigo switches on the kitchen light. “So whaddya say?”
“We’re gonna need a clear answer before the real fun can begin,” Keigo says sensually as he steps close enough that you can feel his body heat behind you. 
“Yes,” you eek out, nodding your head as you try to wrap your brain around this unexpected turn of events. 
The bastard had gotten one over on you again after all, but it’s not like you can even stay mad about it, considering what’s in store for you.
“I hope you’re hydrated, doll,” Touya chuckles, fisting a hand into your hair to carefully tug your hair back and kiss you like his life depends on it. 
He sighs through his nose, groaning against your lips as his hand drops to your ass. He gives it a firm squeeze as he shifts his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he is already. 
Keigo steps closer to press his toned chest against your back and tilts his head to start kissing along your neck as he grabs your waist and grinds against you from behind, revealing that he’s also sporting a raging hard on. 
You moan, working your tongue and your mouth against Touya as your hands explore his chest, searching for an opening in the black robe he’s wearing. 
“You wanna just cut to the chase already, doll?” The villain smirks, lighting his palm for just a second to reduce your scant clothing to ash. “I think we’ve been through enough foreplay and I’ve been waiting too damn long for this.”
He does the same to his clothing, pressing a hand to his chest and the other to Keigo’s. You feel another brief flash of tolerable heat before you’re hyper aware of the feeling of both of their bare bodies writhing against your own. 
“Oh fuck,” you sigh, tilting your head to one side as Keigo begins nipping at your sensitive pulse point, laving his tongue over it to soothe the subtle ache. 
You reach a hand back to work it into his hair and tug gently as you arch your back, grinding your ass against his stiff cock, which coaxes a gorgeous moan from him. You slip a hand between you and Touya as he captures your mouth again. Your fingers wrap around his length to guide the bead of precum along his shaft, drawing out a beautiful noise from him as well. 
Both of them suddenly pull away and you’re afraid that you’ve done something wrong until Keigo steps in front of you to grab your hips and effortlessly lift you up onto the kitchen island. 
“I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a long, long time,” he says, smirking as he leans in to kiss you and parts your legs. 
Touya stands back, stroking himself as he watches Keigo crouch down between your thighs. The blonde keeps his eyes on yours as he trails kisses and love bites along your inner thighs, slowly and steadily working his way up to your glistening pussy. 
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs as he sets his sights between your legs as dives in, his tongue parting your folds before it spears inde of you. 
He certainly knows what he’s doing and it immediately drives you crazy. You keep yourself supported and sitting upright with one hand, so that you can watch him feast on your pussy while you keep a hand in his hair. He alternates between bathing you with his tongue and sucking on your clit with just the right amount of pressure, drawing moans and whimpers from you with ease. 
You look up to seek validation from Touya, almost feeling guilty for enjoying yourself so much, but he seems to be just as into it as you are. He nods, grinning wickedly as he comes closer. 
“You enjoyin’ yourself, doll?” He asks as he stops stroking himself to instead reach beneath Hawks’ chin and slip two fingers inside of you. 
“Y-yes!” You gasp, your eyes crossing as your head tips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.”
“I know, gorgeous,” he purrs and you can hear the smug smirk on his face. “Go ahead and cum all over my friend’s face. He’s dying to taste it.”
His words send you over the edge and you cry out, sending your release gushing into Keigo’s mouth as your hips gyrate on top of the counter. The hero wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you still as he continues ravaging you with his tongue. He noisily cleans up your arousal, sending you into overdrive as you whine and beg for him to show you mercy when it just gets to be too much. 
He eventually lets you catch your breath, but when he stands up to wipe his chin, the look on Touya’s face tells you that you in for much worse if you thought that was too much. 
“S’my turn to taste that sweet pussy, gorgeous. C’mere,” he says, nodding towards the hall as he scoops you up off the counter. At least he doesnt expect you to walk after that. 
He carries you into the bedroom and switches the light on before he lays you down on the bed and lumbers over you. 
“First things first, clean up the mess you made,” Touya practically coos as he offers his slick fingers to you. 
You hold his gaze as you slowly take the digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and moaning quietly when you taste yourself on his skin. 
“Good girl,” Hawks praises you as he crawls onto the bed and Touya repositions, laying flat on his back. 
“You know my favorite number, doll,” he says as he delivers a swift smack to your behind, just enough to make you jump a little. “Assume the position.”
You look between him and Keigo curiously and do as you're told, straddling Touya’s face to wrap your hand around his cock and begin stroking, but before you can take a seat, he tuts his tongue. 
“I want your mouth on him, baby,” Touya says before he hooks his arms around you and forces you to sit. 
His mouth starts working wonders between your legs and you think you might just cum in record time after what Hawks had done to you, but then you remember that your mouth is needed elsewhere than just filling up the sticky air with filthy noises. 
You shift forward as Keigo comes closer, his swollen cock bobbing in front of your face. You lift your eyes to his and take great pleasure in watching the watch his head dips back and his Adam’s apple bobs when you take him into your mouth. 
“Fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep still as he lets you slowly bob along his length until you’re comfortably taking him in and out of his mouth while working your hand along his shaft. 
You keep your other hand wrapped around Touya’s cock, focusing on trying to please both of them while feeling like your brain is going to break thanks to what Touya’s doing beneath you. The moans that you drive from him send vibrations straight into your pussy that only drive you closer to the edge. 
You hold on for as long as you can, but it soon becomes to much again and you pull your mouth and hands away from both of them to sit up and support yourself with your hands on Touya’s thighs, gripping them tight. 
“C-can’t,” you practically sob, squeezing your eyes tight as you hang your head. “Holy shit.”
“Yes, you can,” Keigo coos as he reaches out to cup your breasts, massaging them with care before he starts tweaking your nipples, which sends you cascading into oblivion for the second time tonight. 
You nearly collapse, slumping forward as you’re overcome with pleasure, but Keigo catches you, loosely holding you in his arms as he rubs his hand along your back, which only heightens the sensations you’re feeling. 
You whimper in his ear and he presses a kiss to the side of your head as he and Touya gently ease you off of the latter, so that Touya can sit up. 
“You’re doin’ so well, beautiful,” Hawks croons, peppering kisses along your jaw until he finds your lips. 
“Mm,” is the only response you can muster at the moment as you slowly come down from your high. 
“So well,” Touya praises, moving behind you to rest his hands on your hips as he kisses along your shoulder. “Such a good girl. Can you keep bein’ a good girl for us, gorgeous? If we give you what you really want? Hmm?”
“Yes,” you say breathlessly, nodding your head as your eyes fall closed. “I’ll keep bein’ good. I’ll be so good.”
“That’s our girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck before he places a chaste kiss to it. 
Keigo moves aside and then Touya presses a hand to your back, keeping the other firmly planted on your hip as he forces you onto all fours. He groans as he grinds himself against you, his cock gliding through your folds, nearly penetrating where you need him the most. 
“Please,” you whine softly, shaking your ass as you drop your hips back against him. 
“Since you asked so nice,” he purrs, smirking as he slips inside of you, letting you feel him enter you inch by glorious inch, his piercings sliding against your walls and making your eyes roll back. 
Keigo starts stroking himself as he watches Touya set a steady rhythm, fucking you just hard enough to make you gasp now and then as you fist your hands into the sheets and meet him thrust for thrust. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mixing with the euphoric noises pouting from each and every one of you.
“Just gotta stretch you out a bit, gorgeous,” Touya pants, draping himself over you as he slows his pace. He reaches a hand around ti gently guide your face towards Keigo, who’s abs are drawn taut as he continues stroking himself, his eyes now fixed on your face. “You think you can take both of us? He’s not exactly small either, but I believe in you, doll.”
Your eyes widen, but you find yourself nodding. You aren’t sure if you can do it, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. 
“I want to,” you breathe out, nodding as you reach out towards Keigo to take over stroking his cock, tugging very gently to guide him closer as you smirk up at him. “We should get you nice and lubed up though, yeah?”
His eyebrows raise and he looks extremely pleased as he nods and cradles your head in the back of your hand as Touya straightens up. 
“So fucking good,” Touya marvels through grit teeth as he picks up the pace again. 
He lets you adjust to having Keigo in your mouth, but he starts pushing your further, driving into your hard enough to make you deep throat the hero, which makes both of them groan sinfully as they watch you swallow their cocks at either end. 
“Fuck,” Keigo sighs as he suddenly backs away. “Anymore of that and I’m gonna be done way too soon.”
“Let’s see if you’re ready then, doll,” Touya says, smirking as he pulls out and kneads the fat of your ass before giving it a light smack. “Lay down, Kei. You should her pussy for yourself first.”
Hawks lays on his back and Touya cups your cheek to guide your face towards his one, giving you a passionate kiss before he lets you go and nods towards the blonde. 
“Give him the ride of his life,” he says as he wraps his hand around his own cock. 
You climb on top of Keigo, leaning in to give him a kiss and slip your tongue into his mouth, teasingly tracing it around the entrance of his mouth as you wrap your hand around his length. You suddenly sink down and he lets out a choked groan as he seizes your hips. 
You rest your hands on his chest, smirking with satisfaction as you start riding him, moving your hips slowly at first as your walls clench around him, hugging his cock tight. 
“You feel so good, Kei,” you say breathily. 
His eyes widen and for a moment, he feels like he might just cum and pass out right there. He lets you set the pace, watching you intently as you bounce up and down on his length. His hands glide over your body, exploring every inch of you that he can reach before they settle on your breasts. He massages them as gently as he had earlier before tweaking your nipples. 
He seems to get a better idea as he sits up and wraps his arms around you, grabbing your ass to start guiding your hips more forcefully while he takes your nipple into his mouth to suck. He expertly moves his tongue across the sensitive bud, flicking and swirling it around as he applies more pressure to your hips and encourages you to quicken your pace. 
“Just like that, doll,” Touya pants, struggling to stave of his own end as he senses yours coming. 
“Keigo,” you whimper, grasping onto his shoulders as you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back, your hips bucking as you come undone again. 
“Oh fuck,” he groans loudly, panting for breath as he continues fucking you through your end while fighting off his own. 
Touya pulls his hand away from his cock to take a few deep breaths, watching you contort with pleasure until you’re through the worst of it. He moves behind you and kisses along your shoulder again, sending delicious shivers down your spine. 
“You sure you wanna do this, doll?” He asks quietly, his tone sincere. 
“Yes. Yes, please,” you whisper, nodding weakly nodding your head. 
“You don’t have to do any of the work this time, baby,” Keigo says as he runs his hands along yours arms and lays flat on his back. “Just let us make you feel good.”
You nod again and Touya rests a hand on your back to gently guide your forward so that you’re laying on top of Keigo before he situates himself behind you. 
“I’ll go slow,” he assures you as he first works one finger inside of you. Then another. 
You and Keigo both moan quietly, your shallow breaths mingling with one another’s as he drags his fingertips along your back. Touya starts slowly thrusting his fingers and Keigo slowly shifts his hips, working you open further as you rest your head on the blonde’s chest and submit to it. Once he’s confident that you’re able to take both of them, Touya slowly guides the head of his cock inside of you. 
“Shit,” he groans, continuing to gently bully himself inside. “It’s so fucking tight. So fucking good. You feel that, Kei?”
“Fuck yeah I do,” Hawks sighs, holding perfectly still as his face twists with pleasure. “It’s so fucking good.”
You press your nails into Keigo’s biceps as you feel the two of them stretching you open and filling you up in a way that you never thought possible. They’re right. It is so. Fucking. Good. 
“Fuck me,” you beg quietly once Touya’s seated inside of you. “Please fuck me. Wanna feel both of you.”
“You’re gonna, baby,” Touya croons as he slowly draws his hips back and pushes inside of you again. 
The sensation is glorious. It’s mind numbing. It’s like the best drug you’ve ever felt and you know that you need more of it. 
He holds onto your hips and Keigo seizes your waist as they both begin to move in tandem, slowly at first, but working their way to a pace that has you at a loss for words. You couldn’t find any if you tried. None of you can apparently. 
The only noises to be heard are your bodies all grinding against each other. The lewd squelching of fluids between your forms as you trade sinful noises and panting breaths back and forth. Eventually, you do find one phrase, but just one. 
“Cum inside me, please. Please,” you whine, your voice pitching higher as you feel another orgasm building, this one threatening to tear you apart in the best way. “Cum i-inside.”
“We’re gonna breed you so fuckin’ good, doll,” Touya promises without missing a beat. “I promise.”
They seem to have mastered their movements. Together, the two of them drive you steadily towards your end whilst chasing their own. You snap first, of course, howling with pleasure as your writhe on top of them, your walls contracting impossibly tight around both of their cocks. 
Keigo cradles your head and kisses the top of it, whispering praises and Touya hunches forward to do the same, speaking them right into your ear as both of them keep driving themselves inside of you with unparalleled need. 
Keigo finishes next, his eyes snapping shut as he lets out a long, loud moan, his rhythm stuttering just as Touya finds his end. His head snaps up as he leans back and grips your hips with bruising force, delivering a few more good thrusts while letting out a primal groan before his thrusts become sloppy and begin to taper off as he lays himself across your back again. 
The three of you are left a sweaty, blissful mess on the bed. You’re so wonderfully full. So much so that you’re leaking all over both of them, but neither of them seem to care and neither do you. It’s as if the world has stopped for a minute and you’re all floating outside of time and space, suspended in this moment.
“So good for us,” Touya finally murmurs after who knows how long. He gently grabs your chin to guide your face towards his once more, a lazy smile on his lips as he captures yours in a decidedly sweet kiss. “Happy Halloween, doll.”
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thank you for reading! I hope you have/had a safe & happy halloween!
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uhzuku · 1 year ago
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╰─▸ ❝ 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬. 𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚.
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back. // “If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you.”
𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: my hero academia | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: shouta aizawa/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 9.30k.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: age gap, previously established relationship, jealousy, canon typical harrassment, heavy miss joke bashing, death threats, fem reader, villain reader, possessive reader, reader is just a bad person chat idk what else u want me to say, discussions of trauma ( but aizawa refuses to call it that ), morally ambiguous aizawa, ngl he’s also not a great person but he’s hot so it’s okay, villain/hero, femdom, maledom, teasing, biting, nipple sucking, oral sex, slight choking, switch reader, switch aizawa, dacryphilia, fingering, pussy slapping, tit slapping, spitting, creampies, daddy kink, marking, hickeys, also a cat, tko = tofu knockout, class 1-a are little shits.
𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: kinktober fourrrr !! hnngggg aizawa is always a must <33 and ngl? fucking hate miss joke so we gon bash <3
— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!
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“C’mon, Eraser, just one date! Just one!”
“No means no, Joke — we’re in the middle of a fucking job, so leave me alone and do your part,” Shouta mutters just loud enough flr her to hear with nothing short of sheer annoyance in his voice as he overlooks the streets and back alleys surrounding a building in east Fukuoka just past midnight that night. The Smile Hero, Miss Joke, stood at his right shoulder; due to a necessary team up at the request of the Commission upon Hawks’ request for backup to assist in breaking up a newly discovered human trafficking ring, the duo were paired up and sent to the rooftops for out-of-sight assistance, where Eraserhead could use his quirk without the risk of interruption as the team below entered the building. 
Well. Almost without that risk. 
“Oh, don’t be that way, Eraser, at this point us meeting up all the time’s gotta be fate!” she laughs quietly, grinning brightly at him. He grumbles a little to himself, but doesn’t turn away from where he was glancing around below for any threats that could potentially fall upon the strike team moving through the halls of the building, their locations revealed by the large windows.
More of Joke’s chatter drones on in his ears, and Shouta fights off the annoyed growl that threatened to escape him; why couldn’t it have been Hizashi he was paired with so he’d have backup? At least Hizashi knew how to be quiet and professional, what with his hero persona just being a face for the public — and it wasn’t as if Miss Joke didn’t know how to do her job, she actually did it very well, she just ceased to properly function whenever he was a part of the picture for some reason. Hizashi and Nemuri had both thought it was funny at first, but that was years ago, before it had become an actual problem. 
Shouta tenses up when an overly-familiar hand squeezes his shoulder, and he grits his teeth. “Stop touching me,” he snaps lowly. “For God’s sake, Joke, be fucking professional.”
Miss Joke sighs. “I never see you outside of the rare team up for work, Eraser, what do you expect?”
“I expect you to keep your hands to yourself and for you to do your job,” he says coldly, shaking off her hand. She sighs again, this time in a more dramatic way. 
“Nothing’s gonna happen up here!” She mutters, “We’ve been up here for an hour. They aren’t going to patrol this area, and if they weren’t we should have moved.”
“This is the best vantage point for me to see as much of the building as possible,” he replies, silently relieved that she’s actually discussing the job and not some aspect of his body. 
A groan follows his words, and then a startled curse. He turns in time to catch sight of her grappling with a much larger man with a fly mutation quirk, something he couldn’t cancel. Spitting out a curse of his own under his breath, he leaps into the fray to help as three more men starm the roof. “Neither of you should be up here!” One snarls. “This is private property — you’re trespassing.”
“Shut up,” is all Shouta says, and the fight starts. He leaves Joke to the man with the fly quirk and takes on two of the three other men, the third standing back and watching as Shouta doles out his fair share of bruises while receiving plenty of his own. Once he’s almost completely handled his pair, he sees the third guy make his move from the corner of his eye, his musculature growing as he activates his quirk. Activating his own, Shouta turns his body to brace for the impending impact that would come with the guy jumping at him. A low grunt escapes him as the air is knocked out of him, and as he locks eyes with his new opponent he distantly hears Joke let out an angry shriek after likely taking a particularly harsh hit. One of the guys Shouta had been fighting had abandoned him to go join the fly guy in fighting Joke, so she likely had her own hands full and wouldn’t be able to help in any way — not that he needed it. The only really talented fighter out of the four enemies on the roof was the last man to join the fray, and Shouta could handle him. With a few skillful throws of his capture weapon, Shouta’s more or less finished up his end of the fight. 
A sharp cry from Miss  Joke practically yanks his attention from his opponent so he can look at her, and he finds her on her back against the roof with one of the men with their thick hands around her throat; she’s clearly struggling to breathe. The other man is unconscious, but unbound. A tiny shot of worry races through Shouta’s veins. 
The brief moment that he’d looked away was more than enough for the unnamed enemy to re-engage his strength quirk, and the man burst from the slightly loosened confines of Shouta’s scarf, throwing his entire weight at him. With a surprised shout, he’s thrown faster than he’d expected over to Joke. The man on top of her leaps to the side just before Shouta slams into her, and for a moment the world turns end over end before they’re falling from the roof of the ten story building. 
It takes a second for Shouta to right himself, but before they hit the ground he’s able to wrap one arm around Joke while the other throws his scarf at an overhang on the building he’d been scoping. It catches as intended and they drop to the ground safely, Shouta stumbling a little with the added weight of Joke clinging to him. He can hear the men on the roof opposite them snarling angrily, fixing themselves up and shouting threats against their lives. While they do, the team that had rushed into the building begins filing out, handcuffed traffickers in hand and victims being led out by a few officers. The shouting on the roof silences almost immediately. 
“You alright, Eraser?” It’s Hawks that asks after appearing over his left shoulder with a bound, angry looking man in hand and dangling as the massive red wings on the pro hero beat against the air; the Number Two tilts his head to the side slightly in curiosity while his golden eyes flash in concern as he asks. 
“On the roof,” is all Shouta says, getting straight to the point. “Four men, all working for the ring inside.” Hawks’ pupils narrow to sharp slits, and a dozen feathers zip into the air and over to the roof Shouta had nodded his head towards. Loud yelling and shouts fill the air, followed by shrieks as the feathers binding the men bring them down to the ground. They’re quickly apprehended by the police force assisting the pros in the bust, and all at once the entire event is over. The human trafficking ring that Shouta himself had been focused on bringing down for nearly four years now was destroyed, and all current victims were safe. 
He wishes he could sigh in relief, but there’s an annoying weight on his shoulder. 
“Get off of me, Joke, the danger’s over and this is incredibly unprofessional,” he growls, noticing the way people were staring; he rubs at his eyes to soothe the ever-present burning that came with his quirk use, especially now after the USJ incident; the scar on his face aches at the memory.  
“But something could happen!” Miss Joke exclaims, clinging tighter to him and looking up at him like what he’d said was crazy. “More could be waiting — and I haven’t even gotten to make you laugh yet or agree to that date.”
“You won’t get to do either, now get the fuck off of me!” He snarls, practically tearing her from his side and stepping away. She looks hurt, but he can’t bring himself to care. He was done being nice — clearly it wasn’t working. 
“But Aizawa—!” she starts to whine, but he cuts her off. 
“It’s Eraserhead. You have no right to call me anything else.” With that he storms off, disappearing into the darkness of a nearby alley before making his way through the shadows. All he can think about is the shower waiting for him when he gets home and how filthy he felt having Joke’s hands on his chest and shoulders. It’s why he’s taken by surprise when a heavy figure pushes him into the wall and binds his hands with his own weapon. 
Instinctively he struggles, snarling out a quick threat before the familiar scent of a perfume he’d bought himself reaches his nose, and he relaxes. 
“Evening, Eraserhead,” you murmur lowly, eyes narrowed in displeasure as you look over him, and inwardly he groans. Judging from the tone of your voice, you’d seen all of Joke’s behavior,  but had heard none of what he’d said. You had to have been out of range. 
It didn’t surprise him; Shouta knew you were fond of keeping a watchful eye over him or Hizashi or Nemuri whenever on of them was on a mission like this. You’d have accompanied any of them, Shouta especially ( and tonight of all night most definitely ), but that would have been a foolish decision on your part and everyone who knew you personally would not have been pleased with any possible outcome that followed.
A known villain like yourself would have been swiftly arrested by any police officer or pro hero that didn’t know your civilian identity — and only the three aforementioned people did. 
“It isn’t what you think,” he says tiredly, and a bitter laugh escapes you. Shouta winces; you were hurt. 
“Isn’t that what they all say?” you ask coldly, and Shouta does not reply. He’s too busy staring at the slight tremble in your chin and the way your eyes are getting slightly wetter. 
God. Joke really did have to fuck up everything.
He sighs. “I mean it. It isn’t what it looked like.” You look at him, pondering the denial; Shouta wasn’t a liar. Not once throughout the years you’d known him had he lied to you, even when he’d been after you to arrest you before the two of you had started dating. 
Fine. 
You narrow your eyes. “Talk.”
So he does. He admits to the harassment, to Joke ignoring boundaries and not caring about how many times he’s requested she leave him be. He talks and explains and confesses to things he’d kept secret from you for years, and it takes over half an hour. Over the course of his explanations, the grip you’d had on him goes from a deadly one to one so loose he can barely feel it. The spots would bruise, but he’d wear them with pride as he did any other marks you gave him; you’d not meant to hurt him, and he’d be damned if he let you get into your head about how tight your grip had been. 
By the time he’s finished, you’re shaking — not from the cold, he knows, but from ill-concealed rage. 
“So you’re telling me that you told her to get off of you and to stop touching… and she didn’t?” Your face has been swiftly schooled into an impassive blank canvas, a look he hasn’t seen in years and therefore can no longer read. Hesitantly, he nods, and your eyes flash with an anger he’d not seen since Nemuri was kidnapped by a sex trafficking ring three years back. “And this has been going on for years, but you haven’t told me until now because you thought it would strain the relationship.” Another nod. Your eyes narrow. “Noted. She’ll be on the news tonight.”
You release him from his binds and disappear, scaling the wall and racing across the rooftop. Shouta barely has time to think, but he doesn’t have to in order to follow you, quickly catching you and standing in your way of getting to Joke’s usual patrol route.
“No, you can’t kill her. Not tonight,” he says warningly, and you look angry. 
“You told her to stop and she didn’t. You've told her to stop for years. She doesn’t listen, and she thinks it’s okay. Heroes won’t ever do anything, Shouta, you know that.” The venomous tone you’re sporting  is unmatched, and if Shouta hadn’t known you as well as he does, he’d think it was aimed at him; thankfully he’s known you for years. That being said, he did know that, and honestly it stung a little. 
“I can handle it tonight.” The poison in your voice has transformed into the thickest, most sweet honey as you tempt him. Your eyes are soft, your gaze gooey and only possibly described as sticky sweet. “It could all be over, baby — she’d never bother you again.”
It’s tempting. More tempting than a pro hero should ever allow — but Shouta’s never been the kind of man to balk in the face of the wicked and condemn them for their actions without thought. He was not a good man, and  he doubted there ever was one — he was kind, he was wise, and he was gentle when required, but if he was as good as society deemed the word, he would have turned you in five years ago when the two of you met and he’d captured you after you’d murdered three men. Instead he’d been attracted to you, and a game of cat and mouse had started between the two of you that only ended when he’d caught you again and taken you in an alleyway. 
“That’s wrong,” he murmurs, hands shaky as his heart rate quickens; god, you were so fucking sexy when you promised to murder for him. 
“I never implied that it was right,” you admit casually. For a moment silence stretches out between the two of you, Shouta once again pondering the offer you’d made, then he shakes his head again. 
“No. Not tonight. I don’t feel like scrubbing blood out of the bathroom again,” he says tiredly, and you pout. 
“It’s never usually mine,” you grouse, crossing your arms and turning to look away. 
“And you know how happy that makes me,” he replies warmly, “But I want to be able to hold you and go to sleep tonight without the looming pressure of scrubbing the bathroom in the morning; you know how Hizashi is with blood, and he wanted to go out for breakfast tomorrow before work.”
You let out a wordless grumble, still not looking at him. He searches what parts of your face he can see with the angle you’re turned, and jumps a little when you look at him with nothing but promises of death in your eyes as he lets you push him against the wall again. “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back. 
“If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you,” he promises while pressing slow kisses along your bare skin, biting at your neck and drawing a whimper from your lips. He grins against you. “Go back to the apartment and let me finish my patrol so I can get the hell home and fuck your dumb little brains out, kitten.” A shaky moan falls from your lips and you push your ass back against him. 
“Or you could just fuck me here?” you offer hopefully, your eyes glittering darkly with a newfound interest he knows all too well. “Please Daddy, I’m so wet for you-” A sharp smack to your ass makes you cry out. 
“You fuckin’ heard me, brat — go home.”
With a growled huff, you tug yourself free from his grip, still pouting. Shouta raises an eyebrow; your next move was yours to make. Would you defy him and go after Joke, or would you listen and go home? Either decision would be preferable, and if he was honest he wouldn’t mind you doing what you pleased to Joke tonight as long as you didn’t track blood into the apartment, but why would he admit that now?
You huff again, and promptly disappear into the inky blackness — away from the direction of Joke’s patrol route, and Shouta barely fights off an amused chuckle. 
You always were such a good girl for him. 
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When Shouta finally gets home at half past four, the apartment is dark. He can smell the scent of food from his favorite takeout place, though the initial strength of it is soft and faded, and the soft hum of the television in the bedroom keys him in on where you’ve retreated to.  Toeing off his boots, he wanders into the bedroom, rubbing at the back of his neck as he takes in the sight of you curled up in the bed you shared with him, surrounded by pillows with the little grey cat you and he had taken off the streets curled up in your lap, dozing. Shouta sighs; as calm as he was now, Shouta knew damn well the little monster you’d for some reason named Tofu was going to slap him for no fucking reason later, so he thanked whoever was listening that the little guy was napping right now so he could take a break and wash off all the filth from tonight’s bust and patrol. 
He wanders into the bathroom, stripping down to the clothes he wore beneath his hero uniform and kicking the black mass of cloth towards the laundry hamper; the urge to piss was far greater than any need to pick them up off the floor right away. 
After finishing up, he hops into the shower, eager to rid himself of the grime he’d collected overnight, and once he’s done he makes his way back into the bedroom, lazily toweling himself dry before moving to the dressed to pull out a pair of sweatpants.  
“What are you watching?” he asks you quietly as he puts them on, and you shrug. 
“I don’t know,” you reply, and he raises an eyebrow. 
“You don’t know?”
“No, I haven’t been paying much attention,” you admit quietly, gently playing with Tofu’s tail; he keeps dozing, unbothered. “I’ve had a lot to think about.”
Suddenly the warmth Shouta had felt like he’d sucked in from the shower disappeared, leaving him cold and nervous. You’d had several hours to think about everything he’d told you, and he worried that you were mad at him now. Admittedly he’d technically lied for a long time, keeping secrets from you and not telling you how he felt about Joke for years, so he really couldn’t blame you for being upset with him, even just a little ( or a lot ). The only comfort was that you were still here — because Shouta knew you. If you were going to leave him, you wouldn’t have been in the apartment when he’d returned. Just like you’d first entered it all those years ago, so would you leave it should you choose to abandon the relationship: quickly, silently, and without any reasons to raise suspicion. 
Thinking about it, Shouta didn’t even know if you’d take Tofu if the two of you separated. How would that work?
“We aren’t separating, and I’m not leaving you,” you say tiredly, and Shouta fights off the urge to kick himself; he’d spoken out loud without meaning to. 
You sigh. “That being said, I do want to know why you didn’t tell me.” Shouta tries to repeat what he’d told you, but you look away. “The truth, Shouta. Not the excuse you made before.”
Silence. 
It takes a moment, but finally Shouta just drifts to the bed and sits down on his side with his back to you, looking down at his hands. “Shame,” he finally whispers, and you look at him with a confused gaze. “I just… how could I admit that I couldn’t get her to stop when I’m a pro hero?” Your eyes turn soft and understanding, and he continues in a tone of disgust, refusing to look at you. “I feel so weak. I’m a grown man and I couldn’t fucking stop her — I can’t stop her. I already know the next time we cross paths she’ll be the same. Nothing will change, and I’ll always be… stuck.”
A second silence overtakes you both. You say nothing, only watching the way his shoulders have a slight tremble, before moving Tofu and kicking back the thick layers of blankets, crawling on your hands and knees over to him. He doesn’t look up at you, still staring at his own hands as you cup his head in yours and move his head up so you can see his face. 
He still doesn’t lock eyes with you. 
“Shouta,” you murmur softly. “Look at me.” He makes no attempt to move. “Please?” He does as asked, and you smile softly. “There’s that handsome face,” you murmur, your voice as warm as his morning coffee, and he scoffs. 
“Don’t coddle me,” he mutters, and you grin, not missing the way his lips quirk up in a soft, blatantly fond smile.
“If I don’t, who will?” you ask teasingly, and his tiny smile widens ever so slightly. You grab one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as you sit back on your calves, and your sweet smile twists. “Besides, haven’t I made it obvious to you? You’re mine. Nothing’s gonna change that, Sho, and no one is going to be able to take you away from me.” A murderous gleam flickers in your eyes, and Shouta finally looks up at you just in time to catch it. 
His shoulders droop as he relaxes, his muscles losing the tension he’d built up tonight. Somehow, despite the very clear ( though unvoiced ) notion of just what you could and would do if someone tried to take him from you would normally frighten someone else, he felt at ease. 
His eyes close and he relaxes into your touch as you creep close again, this time straddling his thighs while holding him close; he lets his head fall to rest on your chest, and he sighs from the comfort. “Do I need to spell it out?” You whisper softly to him as you lean down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his stubbled jaw, your hands roaming over his shoulders in a way that has him tensing up for an entirely different reason. 
“Maybe — Maybe you do,” he whispers shakily, tilting his head just enough for you to get to that special, ever-so-sensitive spot that you knew had his cock twitching. You laugh softly, your teeth lightly scratching along his heated skin, and he shakes a little as he fights off the urge to move. 
You gently push him back to rest against the stack of pillows you kept on the bed, and his head falls back in pleasure as you purr out a warm, gooey, “M…” against the base of his throat. Laving your tongue across the skin there, you feel him swallow hard, and you laugh lowly again, your voice thick and sweet like syrup as you continue with a simple, “I…” before moving down to his chest. From the corner of your eye you see one of his hands fist in the sheets, and you fight off yet another chuckle as you slip your way down his body before stopping at your next target: one of his dark, hardened nipples. You don’t hesitate to take it into your mouth, your hot tongue circling the sensitive flesh in a way that has his upper body trembling. It presses hard into the soft, wet pad of your tongue, and the breathy sighs falling from his lips as you lavish it in attention while twisting the other amuse you. Grinning slightly, you take it between your front teeth and tug at it a bit, relishing the sharp whine and stuttered moan he lets out from the feeling; his chest had always been so sensitive. “N,” you say, drifting down yet again. Your fingernails dig ever so slightly into his skin and follow the rest of your body down, scratching across his sensitive nipples and leaving him whimpering louder than before. You finally still before your prize, thick and heavy and hard and hidden from you, and you breathe out a wanting, “E…” as you curl your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and pull them down slowly to reveal the tip of his dripping cock. 
Eyes glittering eagerly, you draw his sweatpants down further, releasing the rest of his length as well as his balls, and you gaze at the way it bobs up to slap against the skin of his stomach. His balls are fat and heavy, and you swallow the drool that’s accumulated in your mouth before taking his cock in one hand, slightly turning your head to the side, and tracing a thick line from his balls to his drooling tip with your tongue. A choked noise is ripped from his throat, and you press your tongue against the sensitive spot under his head and lap at it softly before purring a pleased, “Mine.”
It takes a moment, but as his thighs tremble around your head and his breathing gets heavier and heavier, Shouta finally manages to reply. “Yours,” he whispers, and your grin turns wicked with anticipation.
“Yeah, you’re all mine,” you murmur to yourself before taking his cock into your mouth again, this time sucking lazily at the tip until Shouta’s shaking. Looking up at his messy figure above you, you soak in the picture of his heavy breathing and his squeezed-shut eyes as he falls to pieces beneath your touch. Splaying out your fingers, you run your hands across his thighs as you work your way down to the thick, dark curls around the base of his cock. Your fingernails scratch at his sensitive skin, and his thighs quake as you finally fully nestle his cock in your throat, your nose buried in his pubes. He’s clean, as always, and he’s used your favorite body wash; Shouta lets out low noises of pleasure as you slowly begin to bob your head along his length, sending it down your throat then pulling off it all over again until he’s sitting up, his stomach rolling ever so slightly as he stares down at you while panting. 
“Fu-uck, wait, I-!” he moans, instinctively bucking up into your mouth. You laugh a little around him while languidly sucking at his cock, and he groans deep and hard from the feeling of the vibrations before fisting his hand around your throat and tugging you up. “Y’gotta — Y’gotta stop, I’ll cum,” he grunts, holding you up by your neck. You use one thumb to swipe at a smear of pre on your cheek before sticking it in your mouth to suck it clean. 
“That’s the point, Sho,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I want it.”
“And you’ll get it,” he replies with a growl before yanking you up so you’re laying on top of him before rolling you over onto your back with him hovering over you. “Only you’ll be taking it in this tight cunt of yours, so I hope you’re ready.”
He watches the way your pupils blow ever so slightly, and his tongue darts out to wet his slightly chapped lips as you gaze up at him with soft, gooey eyes. With a grin you ask, “Well Daddy? I thought you were going to fuck me?”
A warm hand comes up and gently grips the column of your throat, and your eyes widen slightly as Shouta leans down with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Do you really want to tempt fate tonight, sweetheart?” he asks coldly, a wicked smile on his face, and your legs spread a little in response. 
“I don’t feel anything,” you purr teasingly, “Don’t tell me it’s already in?”
Without warning, his free hand claps down onto your already sensitive pussy and you let out a choked howl, eyes wide with surprise. During your quick reaction he’d buried his face in your chest, sucking and biting at whatever he could get into his mouth as the hand that had just slapped your cunt gently begins to toy with it soothingly, cooling the stinging and causing a tightness to start building in your belly. 
Shouta was no stranger to the sweet spots scattered across your body and eagerly took advantage of each and every one, biting down on sensitive flesh as his fingers gently eased inside of you and began feeling around inside — teasing, of course, considering he knew where the most sensitive spots were inside of you and he purposefully kept himself from touching them. His thumb runs rough, lazy circles on your clit, and you start rolling your hips up into his hands as he worms his way down the bed, finally releasing your throat. You’re practically dripping now, a small wet spot forming on the sheet below you as your juices roll down past his hands and the curve of your ass to puddle on the bed before soaking onto the fabric. Shouta bites aggressively at your inner thigh, and you whine sharply and reach down to take his hair in your hands, tightly fisting your fingers in it as you needily tug his head toward your center. He just laughs and shakes you loose, slapping your thigh to usher a new cry from your lips before taking his thumb off of your clit so he can use his now free hand to slowly play with the sensitive bundle of nerves and focus his other hand entirely on fitting a third finger inside your sopping wet hole, watching greedily as your cunt swallows them up. 
You’re openly moaning now, sharp cries and whimpers falling from your lips as he curls his fingers and starts playing with an especially swollen, especially sensitive stretch of flesh inside that has you nearly writhing. You can’t stop yourself from rutting your hips up into his touch, however, when that free hand starts making hard, fast circles over your clit at the same time as his curled fingers piston in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace that has you wailing. “O-Oh god, Shouta, please!” You faintly hear him let out a breathless laugh, but you’re too busy gripping the sheets with one hand and your pillow with the other while thrusting your hips in time with each borderline violent press of his thick fingers inside that you barely even make note of it. 
“C’mon now, sweetheart, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls lowly, an excited glint in his eyes as the sounds of your cries changing in pitch signals that you’re about to cum all over his fingers. God, he wants to lap it up like a cat drinking milk; tasting you was always a favorite pastime. He rolls his hips against the mattress, grinding his aching cock between it and his hips and chokes down a shaky whine of his own as spikes of pleasure shoot through him. “Gonna cum for Daddy?”
“Yes! Yes! P-Please, Daddy, let me cum!” you beg shrilly, your entire body shaking. “Please, wanna cum, gotta cum, feels s’good-!”
Shouta knows that if he looked up at you he’d see little tears beginning to gather along your waterline, glittering in the low light like the most precious diamonds, and the thought has him groaning and grinding against the bed harder. “Y-Yeah,” he moans lowly, “Cum for Daddy, baby, cum for Daddy…”
Your cunt tightens around the three fingers he has buried inside you up to his palm, and he replaces his hand on your clit with his mouth, roughly sucking and lapping at it in a way that has you screeching. Your legs fly up to lock around his head and he lets them, enjoying the tight squeeze of both them and your cunt as you fall apart in his mouth and on his fingers.  “That’s right, sweetheart, just like that,” he moans into your pussy, licking up all of the shocks of wetness that had started dripping down his hand as you came. 
Above him, you’re in tatters, your entire body trembling in a seemingly never-ending spasm. Your eyes have rolled back, and you thoughtlessly clench your thighs around your boyfriend’s head as a means of keeping him in place, desperate to keep coming until you’re screaming.  “G-God, oh god — Fuck, Daddy, p-please-!”
Shouta groans into you like a drunken man into a half-empty bottle, and slowly eases up on the movements of his fingers as your thighs slowly loosen. He doesn’t stop circling your sensitive clit with his tongue, though, until you weakly push him away with one foot. Finally he comes up, though, hair wild and face from the nose down soaked in your cum. In the faint light from the television his chin shines, and your heart thumps heavily in your chest as he climbs up the bed as well as the length of your body before slotting himself between your legs, pressing his wet mouth against yours and initiating a heated kiss that leaves you own taste smeared across your lips and in your mouth. His stubble scratches across your cheeks and chin roughly, and you moan into his mouth from both the feeling as well as the feel of his tongue in your mouth. 
As the two of you kiss, you allow your hands to wander across his chest and shoulders and around his waist and back, feeling the way he rolled his hips against you and ground his hard cock against your messy cunt and loving it. With each rough rut the head of his cock caught on your clit and left you a moaning whore beneath him — as if he was much better in his place above you. 
“Lemme fuck you, please,” he begs weakly, rutting against you desperately, “Please, please — God, I wanna fuck you so fucking bad, sweetheart, please-!”
“Y-Yeah, fuck me!” You gasp, “N-Need it, Sho, need your cock!”
“Fuck yeah, gonna fuck you so good — God you’re so fuckin’ wet, so perfect…” Shouta rambles, fumbling with pressing his cock inside. Gone is the sadistic man who’d lain between your legs taking you apart, and in his place is a man who had already fallen apart at the promise of getting to force his cock inside.
Sitting up, you watch as he uses one trembling hand to press his cock against you, letting out a whimper when it pops inside. The following roll of his hips that buries his length to the base inside you has you letting out a shaky cry; you let your head fall back onto the pillows, your thighs trembling as you boyfriend pulls out then presses inside all over again, quickly building up a rhythm that has the headboard banging against your wall hard enough to have the decorations hanging on it start to shake. In the back of your mind you thank anyone listening that no one had moved into the apartment next to yours yet, and felt a little guilty for whoever would inevitably take up the space. 
“F-Fuck — oh god, Daddy, please-!” you whimper, letting out a shriek as a hand cracks across the fat of your tits, the sensitive flesh stinging sharply as tears spring up in your eyes, threatening to roll down your cheeks in a never-ending river showing off the pain and pleasure Shouta was putting you through. The feeling of his cock inside of you leaves you trembling, the heavy drag so fucking good and perfect. It leaves you so very full and pleased that when he roughly fucks against your cervix it punches a sharp gasp out of you, the feeling lmost too much alk at once. You cry out for him, a soaking mess, and he moans into the base of your throat as he keeps his quick pace steady and rough, using your cunt like the little hole of his to fuck that it is and seeking his own pleasure like a starving man does food. 
“Oh god, Sho, please!” you wail, tits shaking from each brutal roll of his hips. You throw one leg over his waist as he grunts into your throat, and he wraps an arm under it and hoists it over his shoulder, the position only serving to allow him to bully his cock even deeper inside than before. Tears spring up in your eyes as his head slams against yet again against your sensitive cervix, and you could almost swear that he’d have worked his way into your womb with how rough he was being if that had been possible. Unfortunately it wasn’t, and when he laughs at the fucked out expression on your face it just triggers full tears, which well up quickly in your eyes becore beginning tk roll down your cheeks and temples, fucking ul your makeuo in a way you know will drive him fucking crazy. 
“Th-That’s right baby, cry for Daddy!” Shouta moans, gazing down at the tears and mascara streaking down your face hungrily, “What a good fuckin’ girl, crying on that dick — feels that fuckin’ good, huh?” 
Your nails dig into his back, scratching near-bloody lines across his skin as you struggle to hold onto him; he growls with each deep scratch. “Y-Yeah!” you sob, trying to speak but unable to get much out as he practically destroys you. “F-Fuck, Daddy, c-can’t think — it’s too hard, too hard to th-think when you’re mixing up my insides-!” 
“You can take it,” he growls in response, eyes and hair wild as he starts losing himself to the pleasure. “You can fuckin’ take it, can fuckin’ take this cock — c’mon baby, you’re my good little whore, aren’t you? Gonna take this fat fuckin’ cock like a big girl and milk me dry?” 
You wail, completely overwhelmed in only the best way as that ever-familiar knot begins to tie itself up in your lower belly, nodding wordlessly as his thrusts just get rougher and rougher. Your jaw falls open from the pleasure, you eye crossing and eyelashes fluttering, and he spits a fat glob of spit onto your mouth and watches gleefully as you immediately swallow it down. His own eyes roll back at the sight coupled with the sudden feeling of your pussy starting to clench, and he moans out a low, “That’s it sweetheart, cum again for me — cum again for Daddy, cum on my cock!” and relishes the sharp sobs you let out, your pussy spasming around his thick lemgth nd your body shaking in his grip. You cling to him, desperate and needy, and he groans hard as his pace gets messy and loses fluidity as he gets closer and closer, then finally starts cumming. 
“Oh g-god, oh fuck-!” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shuts as he fucks intk you messily, filling you with rope after rope of thick heat until he’s left twitching weakly inside of you. He eases to a stop and the two of you lay tangled up like that for a moment before he carefully pulls out. A mixture of his cum amd yours pours out of your hoel, and the sight makes his spent cock twitch twice before he uses the same  fingers he’d used to stretch you open to press it back inside once, twice, then one more time, less coming out each time before he stands on shaky knees and starts slowly working his way to the side of the bed to walk to the bathroom that stops with your hand curled around his wrist. 
“S-Stay,” you whine plaintively, a soft pout on your face and tears still in your eyes. “Don’t go, stay.”
“I gotta clean us up, honey,” Shouta murmurs softly, eyes fond and warm, and he smiles slightly when you shake your head and deepen the pout. 
“No. Tomorrow.” Your voice leaves no room for argument. “Stay.”
With an affectionate sigh, Shouta nods. “Okay. Tomorrow,” he murmurs, getting back in bed with you. You both worm your way into comfortable positions under the blankets and slot yourselves together, content to cuddle until the two of you fell asleep and inevitably drifted to your previously appropriated sides of the bed. 
The television, still on, drones monotonously in the background as the two of you lay there together, some late night program that neither of you care about playing as you bask in a shared afterglow. Shouta loves moments like this; they’re always so soft and perfect in ways he never thought he’d get — and yet here you were. 
He snatches up the remote and changes the channel a few times before finally muttering to himself and turning it off completely. His stomach grumbles a little, and he considers running to the kitchen for his food, but decides against it until you gently prod him away. 
“Go eat,” you mumble, having heard his stomach. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
He huffs out yet another fond laugh and pads into the kitchen, followed swiftly by Tofu, who had long since disappeared from the bedroom when their ‘activities’ had started. He grabs a fork while passing the silverware drawer then  reaches the fridge and opens it, searching through it lazily for a moment before finding his containers of takeout and snatching one up, digging into the chicken pasta hungrily. Several sharp pricks tickle against either side of his left ankle, and he nearly drops the container at the slightly painful feeling before looking down. 
“Tofu, you fucking bastard, let go of my fucking ankle!” he hisses, and the cat looks up at him through wide eyes for a second before turning and biting the back of his ankle hard. “You fuckin’— get off, you little shit!” The cat just growls around its mouthful of his Achilles tendon, and Shouta shakes his leg a little to try and loosen it to no avail, ultimately tossing his food back in the fridge after shoving several more bites in his mouth so he can reach down and snatch up the furry attacker. The cat writhes in his grip, but Shouta refuses to let go and eventually the tiny bastard goes limo in acceptance, and Shouta gets to go back to his food. The cat swipes at a thick piece of chicken, but Shouta puts the fork out of reach just in time. “No fuckin’ way; maybe if you’d not been a little asshole you could have had some, but you decided to be a little shit and bite me. No chicken for you, and I’m telling Mom.”
The cat meows plaintively, and Shouta shakes his head. “Nope, face the consequences of your actions and suffer.” A screech from the cat gets no response, and Shouta quickly finished up his pasta before tossing the box in the trash and closing the fridge; he had more food, but he wasn’t hungry enough to eat them right now, so they could wait until tomorrow. 
He pads back into the bedroom, finding his sleepy girlfriend scrolling through her phone through half lidded eyes. He drops the cat onto the bed and it sprints to her, curling up at her hip on her side of the bed, and he says deadpan, “Your little monster ambushed me.”
You scoff playfully, picking Tofu uo by the armpits and shaking him ever so slightly. “Tofu would never, he’s just a baby,” you purr, laughing a little as he bats at your face with nothing but fluff — a literal sharp contrast to how he’d dug his claws and teeth into Shouta in the kitchen. 
“He’s got you completely fooled, I can’t believe it,” Shouta says, shaking his head and smiling as he climbs into bed next to you. You press close, craving the feeling of his skin against yours, and he worms around until he’s comfortable. A simple silence falls between the two of you, Shouta melting into the mattress just like he’d craved since the night had started.
You’re the one to break the silence. 
“I hate her,” you mumble quietly, drawing invisible pictures on his bare chest with your index finger. You hear him hum in acknowledgment beneath you, then one of those big hands cups the back of your head. 
“I know you do,” is his reply, and you sniff a little and nuzzle closer to him. 
“It isn’t fair,” you pout. “She gets to put her hands all over you even though you don’t like it and no one bats an eye, even when you ask her to stop.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he croons softly, trying to calm you down from the inevitable fit you would have, but this doesn't comfort you. “I have you to make it all better.”
You push yourself up some so you can look at him, your lip jutting out in a vicious pout that he’d already heard in your voice. “You shouldn’t have to handle it, Shouta,” you say seriously. “She should fucking listen when you say no.”
Shouta just nods. “I agree,” he replies gently. “But she won’t change. We both know that.”
You shrug. “Then she’ll die,” you say simply, eyes dark and filling with the beginnings of bloodlust. Shouta hums a little yet again and seemingly ponders this, then nods again. 
“…Hmm. If that’s what you want, it’s fine by me,” he says simply, clutching you tightly. You scoff. 
“I wasn’t asking permission.”
“I wasn’t giving it,” he replies, recognizing the teasing tone. He presses back into the mattress with a sigh and allows all the tension to leave his body, relaxing into the bed he shared with you. You nuzzle against him again, and he hums happily at the contact and closes his eyes as the smoky edges of sleep flicker around in his mind. He can feel one of your hands playing with his hair, your fingers running through it and gently working out the knots. 
God, he was exhausted. 
“Sleep, Sho,” you murmur softly, pressing one hand to his cheek. He smiles faintly and leans into your touch as you smile back at him tenderly, and everything fades into a blissful silence. 
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A weight on his chest and a soft paw slapping his nose is what rouses Shouta from the deep sleep he’d been in, and he blearily opens his eyes to the sight of Tofu sitting on him smacking him across the face — just like every morning. 
Who needs an alarm clock when you have a cat?
Shouta groans and sits up, stretching and ignoring the annoyed mrrp! his cat lets out when forced to hop down. Glancing to your side of the bed, he smiles softly at the sight of you with wild hair and drool dripping down your chin with one hand thrown over your head, and he leans down and nuzzles you affectionately. You hum softly and slowly blink awake, your first sight of the day being him bumping his nose against yours. 
You grin. “Hi,” you whisper, and he grins back. 
“Hi,” he murmurs, and you giggle. You glance at the clock and then smile eagerly, a sudden lusty look in your eye. 
“Think we could have a quickie this morning before you go to class, Sensei?” you purr, and he groans and lets his head thump against your shoulder, closing his eyes. 
“If you were anyone else, that wouldn’t have been so fucking sexy,” he mumbles, and you giggle before pressing a quick series of kisses to his stubbly jaw. 
“Well, Sensei?” you ask playfully, and he looks at you with dark eyes. “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?”
He grins wickedly and doesn’t respond, instead jumping you and pressing you into the mattress. You accidentally let out a gleeful shriek as he begins to lave open-mouthed kisses across your skin, suckling at your skin long enough to leave marks alongside the bruises from last night. 
He pulls away, lips slightly swollen, and locks eyes with you, smiling breathlessly. “I’m gonna take you apart,” he says proudly, and over the next hour he does just that before padding off into the bathroom for another shower, leaving you spread out on the bed with a racing heart. Your entire body feels like a bowl of mush, and as the sounds of him showering in the bathroom reach your ears you groan, forcing yourself to move. You’d wanted to make him a bento this morning, and you damn well were going to. 
It’s done by the time he leaves the bedroom, fully dressed in his hero uniform, and you’re resting on the sectional with Tofu dozing on your lap and one of your several computers on hand. Shouta doesn’t want to know what you’re looking at so excitedly and pointedly ignores the screen as he dips down and catches your lips with his, kissing you deeply. 
“I’ll see you tonight, I don’t have patrol tonight,” he mumbles against your lips before kissing you again. You smile softly and nod. 
“Okay hun. Oh, and don’t forget your lunch on the kitchen counter!” youncall, and he grunts a response. He heads to the kitchen and grabs his keys and a coat as well as his capture weapon, and during all of this Tofu wakes up. The cat darts off of your lap and into your kitchen and then, judging from the choked screech your boyfriend lets out, proceeds to jump the man and start biting. 
“Fucking why, Tofu?!”
You giggle softly and call the cat, and the little menace bounces back to you as if he’d not done anything wrong, curling up in your lap and starting to purr happily. Shouta grumbles the entire way out the door, and then he’s leaving, and you’re still giggling. Hizashi was at the door, ready to grab breakfast with Shouta as expected, and he calls out a quick greeting and says ‘hello’ to Tofu before setting out with your boyfriend, letting the house fall silent. 
You grin and get back to work. 
Hours later you’re hungry, so you put your… less than legal work to the side and head to the kitchen, leaving Tofu asleep on the couch. As you go in, you pause, glancing at the end of the corner of the kitchen counter where the bento you’d made Shouta sits. At first you’re annoyed, but then you grin; he must have put it down in the struggle for his life when he went head on against the cat. 
Grabbing a pretty pink and white handkerchief, you wrap the large box up so you can hold it by handkerchief loops and begin making your way to U.A. School, buying yourself lunch along the way ( Because honestly? You deserved it. ). It takes around an hour, but eventually you make it, and after a few more minutes you manage to weasel your way inside and begin your trek through the halls to Class 1-A’s room. 
Ahead of you is a familiar white bundle of fur wrapped up in a small suit, and you giggle softly to yourself.  “Hello, Nedzu!” you greet brightly through a grin that mimicked a shark's predatory smile. The stoat ahead of you freezes, then turns quickly and responds in kind, his small black eyes shining darkly as the two of you — a frequent pair online when it came to tearing down certain aspects of hero society — coem to meet in the hallway. 
“Hello! What brings you to U.A. today?” he asks kindly, walking beside you as you continue on your way,  and you laugh genuinely. 
“Shouta forgot his lunch at home, I was just bringing it to him,” you explain with ease, and he nods. 
“Oh, how kind!” he replies, and smiles again while narrowing his eyes. “Though next time we will have to get you a security access card; it won’t do to have unannounced guests slipping in and out of the school!” Though the two of you could be considered ‘friends’, the slight warning was clear; while he wasn’t upset with you for coming in, he’d have preferred to not have a weakness in security that you could take advantage of enough to enter the school undetected.
Oh well. He’d patch the ‘hole’ and you’d find a new way to worm yourself in until the security system was sl tightly woven a drop of water couldn’t seep through. That was the entire purpose of this game, after all. 
“I’ll keep that in mind,” is the only response you give, and it seems to please him enough. The rest of your walk to Shouta’s classroom is spent in interesting conversation, various subjects coming and going until finally you reach the classroom door. 
“Well, this is your stop!” Nedzu says brightly. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thank you!” you call kindly as he disappears around a corner, and you knock then enter. 
All eyes lock on you as you come in, and out of all of them the only ones that don’t shine with confusion are your boyfriend’s. He stands from his chair and strides over to you quickly, an eyebrow raised, and growls quietly in a tone many ( but not you ) would consider harsh, “Now you know damn well you aren't supposed to come here — do you realize how many people there are here who could identify you?” 
You just smile brightly. “You left your bento on the kitchen counter!” you say, and he pauses for a moment and looks down at the pink bundle. 
“…Oh,” he mumbles simply, then nods. “Thank you, then.”
“You’re welcome,” you smile, and he turns to put it on the desk then pauses. You tilt your head to the side curiously, still ignoring the twenty pairs of eyes on the pair of you, as he turns around. 
“How the hell did you get in?” Shouta asks, both curious and confused, but you just giggle and give him a quick, soft kiss on the lips. 
“That’s a secret for me and Nedzu to know, honey,” you say sweetly, then disappear out the door. Aizawa stares after you, then sighs. 
“Well fuck,” he mutters. “That’s a match made in hell; god, why did I introduce those two to each other?” He turns and faces the sea of children he’d momentarily forgotten he had, and freezes. For a moment he fears they’ve recognized her, but then he registers that all twenty of his stupid children are grinning like the little devil spawns they are, and he fights off the urge to groan. “Why me, god?”
“Aizawa-Sensei has a girlfriend!” Ashido shrieks excitedly, and his entire Hell Class devolves into excited banter and rambling, endless questions pouring his way from all twenty, even the handful he trusted to be the quiet ones. 
“Why didn’t you tell us about your girlfriend, Sensei?!” Ashido asks, mimicked afterwards by nearly twenty voices. 
“Is she our new mom?” Kaminari asks, glancing at Kirishima through a grin that was brightly returned. The entire class giggles at the question. 
“Sensei has a girlfriend! Sensei has a girlfriend!” comes a random cheer from seemingly nowhere, likely Hagakure, and Shouta collapses into his chair with his face buried into his hands as twenty voices pummel him with question after question and the shrieks never end. 
“This. This is why I never told you,” he grumbles in response to Ashido, and the entire class devolves into more giggles and talking. Shouta sighs; it was only Monday. 
This was panning out to be a long week. 
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𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
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blindmagdalena · 1 month ago
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I know you've done vampire Homelander before, but after looking (totally not obsessively) at various Antony Starr/Homelander gifs, how do you see canon normal Homelander reacting to his so/us/reader pointing out his sharp teeth and how vampiric they are? Perhaps pointing it out around Halloween👀. I can see a bunch of scenarios but I'd love your input.
"You could be a vampire," you say, swiping lazily through the costume listings on Vought Prime on your phone.
You've made a dozen suggestions already, but he's shot down every single one of them. You're beginning to lose hope that Homelander will be dressed as anything other than "The Homelander" for your first Halloween together.
"You already wear a cape, a high collar, slicked back hair. All we need is a palette swap."
Sitting on the couch next to you, your legs draped over his lap, he gives your thigh a pensive rolling tap with his fingers.
"I thought the vampire fad was over."
"No, vampires are timeless. Plus, you even have the fangs."
"I do not have fangs."
Like Dracula rising from his coffin, you sit straight up, staring him dead in the eye.
"Yes, you do."
His eyes narrow a touch. You can see him running his tongue along his teeth behind his lips.
"See?" you prompt. "You could definitely pierce my carotid with those bad boys."
"You sound like you've thought about it," he says, amusement steadily replacing his initial offense.
"Maybe I've fantasized a little," you say, the words more a tease than a simple admission. "Like I said, you've got the look down pat. You have super strength, you fly, you hate the smell of garlic. You're just a very... patriotic vampire."
He laughs, giving you a perfect flash of those very sharp canines you do so adore. He grabs your legs and slides you over his lap like you weigh nothing at all, bringing you properly into it.
"Tell me about this fantasy."
You slip one arm around his neck while you gesture with the other, setting the scene.
"Alright, so, picture this: it's nighttime—obviously, because vampire"—
"Obviously," he echoes very seriously.
—"and I'm on a rooftop alone."
"Why are you on a rooftop at night?"
"I'm sorry, are you already poking plot holes in my hyper specific 'vampire you' fantasy that you asked to hear?"
He puts up a gloved hand like a white flag of surrender. "Continue."
"Thank you. So, rooftop at night. It's cold, I look very demure and vulnerable—stop laughing—and perfect for a midnight snack. That's when I hear you, first the billow of your cape in the crisp wind, followed by your deep, velvety voice as you lure me in with, 'Chillin' all by your lonesome, beautiful?'"
Homelander bursts into laughter at that. You grin, his laugh causing something warm to blossom in your chest.
"That's fucking lame," he says, teeth as sharp as ever in that wolfish smile of his. "Why did you make vampire me so lame?"
"I mean, my love. If the boot fits," you say slyly, cupping either side of his face.
"See, I don't think I would say anything at all," he tells you, taking hold of your wrists. He pulls your hands in so that he can wrangle them both into the grip of one hand, and then turns you away from him, putting your back to his chest.
To this day, the ease with which he manhandles you still leaves you breathless. The strength lurking in him is unlike anything you've ever known.
"I would just... creep up behind you. Silent," he says, quieter now, his hot breath tickling your neck. "You wouldn't even know I was there until..."
You suck in a sharp breath of your own as you feel his teeth graze your throat, goosebumps erupting over every inch of skin.
"The bite."
He sinks his teeth in, the sharp sting of it jolting a gasp out of you that fades unexpectedly into a moan.
Holy fuck.
He didn't break skin, but you're sure he came close. He drags his tongue over the fading indents left in his wake, the heat of it sending a shiver up your spine.
"One bite is all it takes, and then I'm hooked. Instead of suckin' you dry, I keep you. My own sweet, demure little juice box."
"Eugh, you had me going until juice box," you say, but your trembling voice fails to convey the disinterest you intend.
You feel the shape of his grin against your neck as it widens.
"Your pulse disagrees. It's gone south."
"You're one to talk. Your cup feels awfully stiff," you say, grinding back against him for good measure. It satisfies you to hear him suck in a sharp little breath.
"Bedroom?" he murmurs, the word nearly lost in the kisses he's peppering along your still-stinging neck.
"Bedroom," you agree, giving a little yelp at how quickly he propels himself up into the air, flying more than he's walking.
Once Halloween rolls around, some remark that putting a little fake blood in the corners of Homelander's mouth doesn't constitute a costume, but you don't care.
You're plenty satisfied with your vampire boyfriend.
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blondeboyfriend · 2 years ago
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𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 (𝟏𝟖+)
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𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈
[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I turned this thirst into a fic. [ SYNOPSIS ] Vash starts emitting sexy pheromones that leave you desperate for his cock. [ WORD COUNT ] 2.5k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, porn without plot, dubcon, vaginal sex, rough sex, size kink, mild dumbification, plantfucking, body horror/weird plant biology, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, nipple play, Vash has a biting kink, self objectification (does that even make sense?), knotting, creampie, cockwarming.
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It was just past midnight. The moons were looming high in the sky, illuminating the desolate land surrounding the town you and Vash had taken refuge in. Your face was pressed against the window, gazing out into the sandy void.
“You see the sky tonight?” you asked.
Vash didn’t bother responding. You turned around and saw his dejected form.
“You’re lookin’ more wistful than usual.”
He was sprawled out on the bed, leaving you little to no room. The lodge you were holed up in only had a single room vacant and of course there was but one measly bed. It was a good enough sized one though; it could definitely provide comfort for you and the gangly mess of a man you called a travel companion.
Vash merely sighed in response to your question and stared up at the ceiling.
His gaze was flat, not a hint of sparkle to his blue-green eyes. His sweet face was held hostage by a delightfully adorable pout. Thoughts of biting down on his bottom lip swirled around you, leaving you flustered and throbbing. You hoped whatever was troubling him wasn’t too serious because otherwise your current state would be disrespectful.
“What’s wrong?” you prodded, taking a seat on the bed. You tried to sound as dry as humanly possible.
He turned his head towards you and gave you the weakest, most pathetic smile. A smile that inspired no faith in what it sought to imply.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” he answered sweetly.
You glared at him. “Fine. I—Well… I guess I’m going to sleep.” You paused awkwardly. “Goodnight.”
Vash scooted over, granting you space on the mattress. You crawled into place, not bothering to cover yourself with the musty bedding. It smelled too much like sand.
You rolled onto your side, your back facing Vash. You held yourself in a fetal position in hopes it would keep you warm. In a perfect world you’d just snuggle up next to him and leech off the heat his body seemed to radiate. But you didn’t live in a perfect world; you lived in a sandy, inhospitable land.
“Are you cold?” he asked. Such a perceptive one he was.
“A little,” you lied.
“Get under the blankets then,” he suggested.
“No. They smell like sand and… I don’t know, like, armpit sweat.”
He let out a tiny laugh. “I can’t argue with you there.”
You wriggled your shoulders in discomfort. You wanted to curl up next to Vash like a kitten, but with his current mood it just didn’t seem feasible. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy him so you would have to bear the drafty room on your own. It would only be for a night; you could handle it.
However after about five minutes of shivering in painful silence, you turned over and faced Vash. He was on his side, facing you. His eyes were shut, his dark lashes catching the moonlight streaming through the windows.
You gently nudged him. “Hey.”
He briefly frowned, but stayed asleep.
You nudged him once more, this time much harder.
“Vash!”
His eyes shot open and he jerked back.
“Ouch! Why are you being so aggressive?”
“I have a question,” you said, giving him puppy dog eyes.
“Ask away.”
“Can we spoon, or snuggle, or something?”
“Uh—”
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I know you… are like… You’ve got something on your mind and I don’t wanna—”
The radiant grin he gave you calmed your nerves. He pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his arms around you. Your face was buried into his neck. He smelled like freshly washed linens, undercut by a strange earthy, honey-like scent, a creamy florescent. The chills that cursed your body melted away in his presence.
“Thank you,” you muttered, voice muffled by Vash’s sweet skin.
You inhaled deeply and pressed your body up against his. He felt tense, like his muscles were frozen in place.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked.
“It’s stupid,” he whined.
“I don’t care.”
He paused and took a few slow breaths, preparing himself for the question he was about to pose.
“I really like you and—”
“You wanna fuck me, huh?” you asked, your face adorned with a cat-like grin. You had never been so forward before, but something seemed to possess you.
“Of course I do.” He groaned. “But I can’t because… it’s complicated. And intense.”
“Is that supposed to be a deterrent?”
He rolled onto his back and hid his face behind his hands.
“It’s just different, alright?”
You crawled on top of him, unable to help yourself. His aura was whipping you into a frenzy, the lovely scent emanating from his skin growing stronger and luring you in.
“I like different,” you purred.
He gulped. “I should tell you—”
You didn’t let him speak.“I don’t care what happens.”
Vash blushed. “Let me finish.”
You groaned but relented. “Fine. But be quick.”
“I haven’t, uh, you know… in a while. And when that happens my body produces these pheromones that are supposed to attract a mate.”
“A mate?” you asked, voice wavering. You liked Vash and wanted to fuck him, but mate implied somewhat of a large commitment.
“No! Not a mate! It, well, it makes people want to—”
“Fuck you?” you asked, biting down on your upper lip.
He nodded. “And they kinda… drive me crazy too.” He tacked on a nervous laugh. “Sometimes I can’t control myself which isn’t fair because, well, whoever is… uh… they do whatever I want them to.”
Your cunt was growing wetter by the second.
“So that’s why I want you to use me so bad.”
His eyes were wide, almost sparkling. His cheeks were rosy and the scent emanating from him grew stronger.
You felt as if the room was enveloped in a sensuous haze that seeped into your skin, flowing through your veins. It was consuming you, eating away at your thoughts, leaving behind visions of Vash tossing your legs over your shoulders and driving his cock into your weeping cunt. Your body was growing warmer, almost unbearably so. Every inch of you ached for him. You would know no peace until his body was lording over yours and filling you up with his cum.
“I just.” He averted your lingering gaze. “It’s embarrassing. I hate getting like that. When I do all I can think about is pinning someone down and fucking them until they can’t see straight.”
“That sounds amazing,” you said dreamily. 
Your manner of speaking was much more provocative than it usually was. Your tongue seemed to linger on the letters, leaving each one coated in a honey-like tone. There was almost a hint of a tumultuous moan when you said “aammmaaaaaziiingg.”
Vash looked uncomfortable, but willing. His hands were gripping the sheets as if he was holding on for dear life.
“I know you want me,” you teased, rocking your hips against his. “I’m not lying when I say you can do whatever you want to me. You need it. I know you do.” You cupped his face in your gentle hands. “Let me help you. It’s what I’m here for.”
He laughed. “It’s not, but…”
“Hush,” you said, grabbing a hold of his cock.
It was swollen, begging for release.
You lowered yourself down and pulled down the soft, worn cotton pants he liked to sleep in. His cock sprung up, standing completely upright. The tip was engorged and pink. You rubbed it with the pad of your thumb and watched as Vash winced. His brows knitted together in ecstatic agony.
A few thick veins snaked around his shaft. You ghosted your fingers over them and reveled in his desperate whines. You looked up at him with starved eyes, darkened by your devotion and desire. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft. You grabbed ahold of his cock and stroked it while you rolled your tongue against the tip, savoring the sweet taste of his precum.
He let out a low groan as you pumped his leaky cock. He placed his hand on the back of your head and gently pushed down. You dropped your hand and decided to let your mouth do the work.
Vash eased your head further down, until the entirety of his length filled your mouth. Spit was trickling from the corners of your mouth and tears crept out from the corners of your eyes. He began to thrust, sending the tip of his cock into the back of your throat. You were steadfast and breathed through your nose, fighting your gag reflex.
“Your mouth fe—feels so good,” he stammered.
You placed your hands on his muscled thighs to push yourself off of his cock, but you felt what appeared to be downy feathers sprouting from his skin. It threw you off for a moment before you remembered what you wanted to say.
“Wait until you feel my pussy,” you bragged.
His eyes almost seemed to glow. He gave you a boyish smile before pushing you onto your back with a swiftness that left you in awe. His hands wandered down your body, pawing at your clothes, desperately trying to take them off. Your body felt electric as he undressed you. Each time his warm, slender fingers grazed your skin your body pulsed with delight. 
He kissed your neck before letting his sharp canines graze your tender skin. You hummed in delight, and laced your fingers through his silky hair. He rutted up against your body, the tip of his cock teasing your clit. You whimpered every time it made contact.
He left a trail of kisses down your neck and chest, stopping at your breast. He flicked his tongue against your nipple. He sucked on it, holding it between his soft lips. You relished in the sound of him lapping away. You held onto his shoulders, feeling spiny quills erupting from his scapulae.
“Vash,” you whimpered. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t respond. The quills from his back grew longer and denser. You pricked your finger on one of the sharp tips. You winced in pain and moved your hand down to the small of his back. You watched as the spiny quills became more feather-like. They were pale and iridescent and they left you transfixed. They were so beautiful. They soon covered his back and made their way down his arms. You ran your hand down the length of them. They were soft and sleek, like nothing you had ever experienced before.
“So pretty,” you muttered.
Vash lifted his head from your breast.
“Hm?”
A cluster of eyes has formed in the middle of his forehead. It disturbed you briefly, but the feeling of his cock throbbing against your thigh was enough to make you forget about it.
“Nothing, nothing,” you said, stroking his cheek.
You kissed him, pushing your tongue past his teeth. He held you close and you felt like your body was melting into his. You wanted to become a part of him. He slid his fingers into your cunt, spreading apart your folds. You groaned in frustration. His fingers weren’t enough. You needed his cock.
“Please just fuck me,” you whined, breaking the kiss.
He looked up at you with all of his dazed eyes and wordlessly nodded. He slowly guided his cock inside you. You gasped as your cunt stretched around it. You buried your face into his neck, hoping to mute your cries of pleasure. His thrusts were gentle and deliberate. You could feel that he was holding back.
“Is it too much?” he asked, planting a kiss on your forehead.
You shook your head. “More.”
He gave you a concerned look. “More?”
“Yeah. Fuck me like I’m a whore.”
Vash nearly choked on his own spit.
“C’mon,” you purred. “You know you want to.”
“I can’t. It’ll be too much.”
“My body can take it.”
He frowned. “I could really hurt you.”
“I like it when it hurts,” you said, tightening your cunt around his cock. You kissed him again and held his bottom lip between your teeth. “I’m your toy. You can do whatever you want to me.”
Vash looked at you, holding your gaze, clearly weighing his options. Once he made up his mind an impish grin made its way across his face and he lifted your legs over his shoulders.
His thrusts were significantly more intense than they were previously. He drove his cock into your cunt with a fervor you had never experienced. His cocktip pushed up against your cervix, sending a sharp sensation to your core. You became a panting, moaning mess. You were falling apart at the seams, your body as limp as a doll’s. Vash was able to manipulate your body with ease, essentially folding you in half, leaving your knees close to your face.
You looked up at him as his wings spread out, nearly engulfing you. It was hard to believe this was the same Vash you wandered the desert with. You never would have thought the doughnut eating dork could be so feral. You knew he wasn’t a human, but his true nature being so alien never occurred to you.
As he fucked your limp body into the mattress, you felt your orgasm begin to bloom in your stomach. Your breathing became labored and all you could think about was coming all over his cock.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” he growled.
“Uh-huh,” you moaned.
He picked up the pace, his thrusts growing more and more frantic. The room was filled with a symphony of his grunts and whimpers. You were lost in his presence, completely enamored and consumed by it. Your vision blurred and you saw nothing but white as you came. A deluge of fluids dripped from your cunt and coated his cock. You felt like you had ascended to heaven, leaving No Man’s Land in the dust.
Vash continued to thrust as his cock swelled inside you. Spurts of his slippery cum filled your cunt. He exhaled deeply and allowed your legs to fall to the side and laid down on top of you. The two of you tried to catch your breath and let the rapture you were entangled in fade away.
“I’m sorry,” he said bashfully, lifting himself up.
His cock was still buried inside you.
“Why…” You struggled to find your words. “Why are you… sorry?”
“Because! I didn’t want you to ever see me like this. I look like a freak.”
You ran your hand along his wings and made an effort to make eye contact with the cluster of ones on his forehead.
“I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“You’re just saying that because you're high off my pheromones,” he scoffed.
You giggled. “Maybe. But you’re still very pretty.”
You rubbed the short feathers that had sprouted along the apples of his cheeks. He sighed in relief and nuzzled his face into your neck. His cock continued to throb inside you and likely would for a while. You didn’t mind though. Laying under Vash, shielded by his wings from the harsh world outside, was all you could want in such a harsh and unforgiving world.
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delirious-donna · 10 months ago
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Demon In The Mirror [Sebastian Michaelis]
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an: this is a rework of an old fic for a different character/fandom. I liked this fic idea and lovely Sebby really fit it, or at least I think so! I've been hyperfixated on the world's best butler so this scratched an itch for me.
pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x female reader
warnings: canon Sebastian, mirror sex, rough touching, praise, light degradation, biting, mark marking, dirty talk, pussy fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mentions of blood (tiny)
Masterlist
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A mirror–polished and unassuming as it stood in the corner of the room. It never lied, never hid the truth behind a veil of deceit. All it could do was reflect what it hungrily absorbed.
Truth laid bare for all who peered into its depths. The reflection of not only your physical reactions–the jerk of your limbs, soft quiver of your stomach–but your emotions poured into the surface and were somehow magnified back. Magic, perhaps?
On its own, the mirror was a beautiful thing, decoratively ornate and standing on claw feet. You gazed into it every morning to peruse your outfit and ensure your hair was coiffed exactly as intended. However, when you added what was showing on the calm surface at this moment, the mirror became a truly magnificent beast.
Two bodies entwined in a lover’s embrace.
Every detail was laid bare in exquisite detail, and this outcome was entirely your doing. Slender fingers with midnight nails flexed deliberately into your jaw, testing the strength you had long known against the delicate frame of your mortal body. The angle forced you to stare straight ahead, to witness what was happening to you in such clarity it stole the little air remaining from your lungs.
“You wanted this, did you not?” He lilted with an air of amusement that curled your toes. “I believe you were rather forthright with your desires this evening, at least you were once I coaxed them out of you.”
Sebastian Michaelis, the head butler and right-hand man to your father was a demon. As the eldest daughter in the family and well into your twenties, you were an anomaly to your father. He would have married you off years ago if it weren’t for your ability to chase away every suitor that called. The only person who had been able to get close to you was Sebastian if you could even call him a person. Except, you liked that he wasn’t human—humans were boring.
You cared not for whatever mysterious and demonic bond had been formed between him and your father. All that mattered was that he saw the real you beneath the prickly exterior you presented to the world. It had taken many months of flirtatious glances, heated whispers promising you all manner of carnal pleasure and touches that only grew in intimacy, but you considered Sebastian to be your lover for close to half a year now.
The only problem… he treated you with kid gloves.
“Sebastian… You know, it would be okay if you held me a bit tighter. If you wish to, that is.”
That was what had started it all, the words that led to this path of twisted pleasure. 
You recalled the delicate touch of white-gloved fingers, how they curled around your biceps to draw you into his lap. His carefully fastened tie and top buttons were messily undone by your hasty fingers and his midnight hair was just the tiniest bit dishevelled from where you had brushed through it.
The demon gently pawing at you was more than capable of tearing people apart with his hands, the white of his gloves rarely soiled by the crimson remnants of the deaths he bestowed, and yet he held you as if you were fine china. Didn’t he know that the times you bore witness to his feats of strength had resulted in ruined undergarments beneath your gown? He was a sight to behold, tall and lithe with a presence that demanded respect despite being a servant by occupation. What you wouldn’t give for him to direct some of that power and strength towards you, on those intimate late-night visits to your quarters.
“But, my dear, you are so soft. I wouldn’t wish to hurt you.” The sentiment was huffed into the sweet crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your skin whilst he smeared lazy, wet kisses to your jaw and the pulse hammering beneath the surface. It sounded almost bemused, and that irritated you.
You were no porcelain doll only to be taken out when it suited and arranged delicately upon pristine sheets. You were no silly girl. You were a woman, goddammit, and you wished above all else to be treated as such. Apparently, your expression gave away your frustration, either that or Sebastion was simply well-tuned to the emotions swirling in your complex mind.
“Have I said something wrong, darling girl?”
With today’s gown laid neatly atop your dresser, the petticoats beneath bunched around your thighs and hips, you sat back on your haunches to glower at him. His finger idled with the lace fastens of your bodice, doing little to stop you from moving away from his embrace.
A petulant huff passed your lips, arms folded across your chest, and his easy smile dimmed in response. It should have been your first warning, but ire had a way of dulling your senses to danger. 
“I will remind you that I am not made of glass, nor will I break if you…” The remaining words of your tirade seemed to become stuck in the back of your throat as your gaze met with Sebastian’s. The subtle carmine of his irises caught fire, glowing coals of ember that spoke of something… unknown? Worryingly unknown.
Maybe you had misspoken, your tone a little more harsh than you intended but it was too late to remedy. Your shoulders sagged, your body deflating rapidly from the hot air that filled you only moments ago. 
The room charged with electricity, you could feel it press atop your head like a physical manifestation of a weight trying to crush you against your bedspread. Something was most assuredly wrong and it wouldn’t be long before you found out the consequences of your little outburst.
“If I what?” he hissed from between gritted teeth, white and gleaming.
Your eyes snapped to his face, and the stark lines of displeasure traced his cheekbones and brow. No longer were you gazing into the face of Sebastian, your lover, this was the demon that lurked beneath. The one you longed for and were going to suffer his wrath no matter if you tried to back peddle or not.
He sat up straight with a start, forcing you further back and almost tumbling you right out of his lap. A palm anchored around your wrist, tightening against the fragile tendons until they nearly popped and wrenching you forward until you were nose to nose. His breathing was harsh, your own picking up pace to match it perfectly. For a moment you thought he would speak but after many moments of staring back and forth, he pushed back and looked towards the periphery. 
With a precision no man or demon should have, he caught the fingertip of his virginal white gloves between his teeth and slowly pulled each one free in turn. You squirmed watching him reveal his hands, the intricate design that you always did your best to ignore caught your attention but it was quickly stolen away.
That same hand shot forward to wrap around your hair, yanking on the length in one swift motion until your roots tugged painfully and your throat bared in front of his eyes. The breathless whine you expressed sounded truly pathetic, only matched by the arousal pooling in your underwear.
“Hm, so you won’t break if I do this?”
Sebastian reared back and bit around the slender column of your throat, not enough to break the skin but it hurt—it hurt bad enough to spark tears in your eyes. The sweep of his hot, wet tongue licked across the mark he made, tracing the indents his teeth had created along with a low grunt that sounded from the depths of his chest.
Cool, nimble fingers reached into the front of your bodice, teasing against your heated flesh before rending the garment clean in two. The noise of expensive fabric ripping thundered in the room and you gasped at the sudden chill covering your naked breasts. 
It was hard to navigate the sudden flip in his demeanour, although you had all but asked for it. You braced your trembling hands over the lapels of his double-breasted jacket in an attempt to find grounding and solace, but there was none to be found. It appeared that your demon lover was bowing to your whims, you should be pleased, and yet there was a beat of trepidation in your heart. What had you let yourself in for?
As if sensing your wayward conviction, Sebastian moved with alarming ease to the edge of the bed. It was evident that your added weight meant nothing to him, and that alone made you moan into the shell of his ear.
He placed you down in a puffy cloud of your petticoats and stood to shrug out of his jacket and waistcoat but annoyingly left his shirt in place. It didn’t stop you from ogling him openly, knowing what lay beneath even if it was rare to spend the night with him completely nude.
A finger and thumb pinched into the fat of your cheeks, lifting your gaze from the blatant lust-filled staring to meet his eyes that had mellowed to a sparkling fuschia. He was so pretty, so devastatingly pretty that you clung to his wrist, blinking up at him with heat-filled cheeks.
“You will direct your eyes up here, and wherever I instruct, is that clear?”
Only when he was satisfied he had captured your attention and you had given your clear understanding did he release the grip of his fingers, settling beside you. He patted his lap in invitation and you were crawling before he could even raise a sleek black eyebrow.
Smooth palms decorated your sides, pausing to grope your breasts. Sebastian exhaled a laugh when the excess spill from your breasts squished between his splayed fingers, pebbled nipples grazing the hearts of his palms. You whined and rocked against the bulge beneath his tailored trousers, only feeding the frenzy of his wandering hands and how roughly he was exploring your smooth skin. It was a perfect storm of demonic lust and ardent excitement, the result of which resided in the pit of your stomach. You were drooling between your thighs, flushed by the thought of it and you knew he’d tease you when he discovered how wet you were.
“A needy little thing, aren’t you? Darling, surely you aren’t this desperate for my cock?” His hand was beneath the plumes of petticoats, zeroing in on your soaked panties before you could blink. Sebastian tsked whilst his finger stroked the sizeable wet stain that traced the length of your slit. “Deary me, you’re already soaked. One might think that this side of me excites you.”
Without warning, he bounced you from his knee, your feet found the plush rug by your bed but your balance was not to be trusted and you were thankful for the firm hands at your waist keeping you steady. That was until those ruthless hands were twisted in your petticoats and tugging them down your legs to pool around your twisting feet, followed by the sudden removal of the final piece of clothing.
You tried to shield your modesty–an arm slung across your breasts and a hand cupping your sex whilst stepping out of your panties when suddenly you were dwarfed by Sebastian’s taller frame. He appeared even taller than usual, though you weren’t sure if it was an illusion aided by the long shadows cast by the candles on your bedside.
A mere flick of his wrist and your hand dislodged from protecting your decency. He stepped right into your personal space to force his hand exactly where yours had once been and began to dig deeper. Your nails scrambled against the stiff white starch of his shirt, blinking up at him much too fast whilst he took no care to spread you apart with his fingers.
“A-ah, Sebastian!”
Again, he tsked you and clicked his tongue against his teeth in admonishment when a slick covered finger rose into your vision, sparking a fresh wave of heat in every inch of your body.
“Clean it off like a good girl,” he cooed, his voice dripping in honeyed sweetness that you did not trust.
This was not something you had participated in before, but you were determined to meet the challenge in his eyes and earn a sliver of praise that would bow your spine. The taste was surprisingly sweet, a little heavy on your tastebuds but you sucked the long digit between your lips and twirled your tongue around and around to better understand why Sebastian so loved to lay between your thighs and indulge.
He patted your head affectionately, lowering his hand to caress your cheek and smirked when you turned your face to press a kiss to his palm. Unknown to you his attention had snared on the standing mirror in the far corner of your bedroom, eyeing it with first curiosity and then wicked amusement.
You were uncertain why he was interested in the mirror, leaving you by the bed naked and vulnerable, to examine the gold-gilded frame and moving it with ease towards you. What on Earth..?
“What are you–?”
Sebastian cut you off, turning you roughly and sitting with you on full display for the mirror. It made you uncomfortable to see yourself this exposed, you barely looked at yourself in this state whilst bathing or dressing so to see the thick strands of lust hanging from your parted lips was jarring. A sensation writhed in your chest, a mixture of embarrassment mingling with a little pride. Your demon that stared from over your shoulder was here of his own free will, no contract or binding bid him to your side and that was an empowering thought.
He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to your flushed cheek. “I am merely doing what you asked of me. You wished me to hold you tighter and be used like a pretty whore for the night, so I am doing just that.”
“I didn’t say that!”
“Ah, but you may as well have, my darling. Your body speaks far more readily than your mouth and I can hear it loud and clear.”
Before he had finished speaking, his thumb found your eager little pearl, stroking around and around in maddening circles without touching it directly. Sebastian shuffled beneath you and you felt the blunt tip of his cock trace along your cunt for the first time that night. 
A thread of power pulled through the length of your spine, straightening it and you knew deep down that it was his doing. Your eyes flickered to his blazing ones, biting your lip enough to cause blood to bead. A heated kiss cleaned the offending crimson from your plump bottom lip. The scene was like nothing you could ever dream of. No book or play could conjure such images. It was enough for sweat to roll from your temples and he hadn’t even slipped inside yet.
“Can you see what I see?” He cooed, stroking the curve of your jaw with his thumb.
You weren’t sure you did. Sure, you were a carnal feast for the eyes but wouldn’t any woman be in this position? Evidently, he disliked your silent uncertainty.
“A strong woman who stood against her family and chose to take a demon as a lover instead of marrying into dazzling wealth.”
Your chin rose as the words hit home, the cool ferocity of his tone enough to make you clench around nothing but air and the promise of what was to come.
“You are mine. No one else could hope to take you from me. I speak these words now and I will die by them. Mine. Do you understand?”
Nodding weakly, you watched his features twist in the reflection of the mirror. The desperate hunger and possession stoked the fires of the demon. It was at that moment that he pushed the bulging tip into your leaking cunt, pushing deeper past the tight ring of muscles with an exalted sigh of triumph. Sebastian held you still, fingers gripping the meat at your waist to prevent you from trying to run from the stretch you were sure to be experiencing.
It only took one forceful rut of his hips to sheath himself halfway, forcing your silken walls apart, to accept him as you always did. The remaining air from your lungs expired from the sudden pressure and overwhelming feeling of fullness.
Steady hands braced on the inside of your knees to prevent you from closing your thighs and it only made your whimpers sound all the more desperate. You were met with a warning growl directed into your ear, fiery pain following from the sharp teeth that tore at your shoulder until the marks were clear in the watery image in the mirror.
You blinked through tears, struggling in the clutches of a beast you had never mated with before. This was different, and you knew that when he stroked himself to the hilt in your cunt, he felt bigger, wider even, and the tip of his cock knocked painfully at your cervix.
It was near impossible to keep your eyes open, not when they were filled with unspilled tears and your head and heart were pounding from the lack of movement. Scrunching your eyes closed was natural when all you wanted to do was roll your hips and surrender to the build of friction but you couldn’t.
“Watch.” He demanded, wetting two fingers in his mouth and smacking them against your jumping clit as punishment for daring to close your eyes. “This is what you wanted and you’ll see just how rough I can be.”
Here you were. Nude and being used for pleasure. Wrapped in a strong embrace that forced you to witness what you had brought about. Expert fingers pinched at your tender nipples and rolled the taut buds between finger and thumb whilst the other hand abused your puffy clit.
Your body trembled as another orgasm neared–you had no idea what number this one was and it certainly wasn’t the first.
“Oh. Oh, fuck.”
The words tumbled out in velvet tones, eliciting a dark chuckle from Sebastian. He delighted when you cussed, knowing that your usual etiquette was entirely lost and your decency stolen away by how he fucked your pliant body.
With every new wave of pleasure, you understood more and more about the monster holding you tight and you didn’t believe you could love him any more than you did right now. He could destroy you without so much as breaking a sweat and yet he chose to hold you like this. Yes, it was rougher than ever before but you knew there was still a gentleness to his ministrations.
This demon had found a mortal interesting enough that for the first time in his long existence, he had no desire to ever see his contract fulfilled. 
His pistoning hips stopped; twitching cockhead buried against your cervix and the pulsing veins that ran the length of his thick shaft throbbed for release. He had assaulted the softy tissue buried behind your clit for long enough, it was time for him to find release too.
You were witnessing the birth of a million stars–a fucking cosmos--behind your eyelids as Sebastian massaged your insides in slow, deliberate circles. Every time you found the reflection in the mirror and met his potent stare, it made you whimper and rut even harder against him.
He was close, you could feel it with every laboured breath at the nape of your marked neck.
“What a picture you make, my dear, one I would love to hang in my room. You are all blissed out and ready for me to spill. Should I cum inside or paint your pretty stomach?”
Your head fell to his shoulder, and for the first time, he let you take your eyes off the show in front of you. Instead, he narrated it to you and that was almost worse. The seductive silky smooth tone of his words heated your blood beyond the boiling point.
“Oh my... look at this thick creamy ring around my cock… I could watch your pretty pussy drool over me all day.”
With a final shove of his hips, jets of heat coated your walls and you were spared from the embarrassment of begging for him to cum inside you. Sebastian grunted into your neck, the sensation of his hot mouth on your skin and the continued lazy pumps deep in your cunt tripped you over the cliff edge and into freefall.
Boneless, panting and mind blank except for the pleasure, your dazed eyes lifted to stare at the mirror.
Hair as black as a starless sky fell over your shoulder, strong arms clinging to your midriff and a mixture of viscous arousal dripped from between your trembling thighs.
Flushed and shivering, you bit your lip at the sight—your demon in the mirror.
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bearw-me · 7 months ago
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new years kiss hard canons for hazbin? no big deal or anything- (would make my entire year if you did)
sure, no big deal. (this request made my whole year)
𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 — 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥
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𐐒 includes : gender neutral!reader, alastor, charlie morningstar, vaggie, angel dust, sir pentious, husk, cherri bomb 𐐒 cw : fluff, mentions of drinking, kisses 𐐒 summary : to celebrate the new year Charlie + Alastor have thrown together a nice little party for the hotels inhabitants! 𐐒 note : first time hcs for a ton of characters! hope you guys enjoy!
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To celebrate the new year, Charlie had come up with a wonderful idea that she had heard about through the angels. A wonderous party filled with spirits and surrounded by the people she treasured most to enjoy some fireworks, hopefully to start off a new year with high hopes!
With Alastor + Vaggie's help, they created a new balcony on the hotel just for the occasion. . . and to watch the fireworks burst and bubble brightly over hell.
➡ Alastor
the kiss would be unexpected on your part completely
after all, the overlord Alastor himself always has to have the upper-hand
what good would a surprise be if you knew he was going to kiss you the moment those fireworks burst and whistled into the sky?
He probably backs you up into a corner out of sight, or if your sitting by the bar he'll have you at the edge of the seat
He smiles wide, reveling in the fact that your squirming
"What's wrong my dear? Feeling uncomfortable?"
Alastor kisses you passionately, but also, as if he's never kissed someone in his life.
You can't even hear the fireworks behind him, just the static in your head and the press of his body against yours
he'd probably bite you too if he found himself enjoying your lips against his
His hand slithering up your back to hold you close, unable to wriggle away or fall back from him.
Immediately after he disappears
after all, he likes to keep you on your toes
➡ Charlie Morningstar
she's very. . . strange all night leading up to midnight
you just accredit it to stress; she's managed this whole thing by herself and wants it to be perfect
Charlie is checking up on you all night, talking fast as a whip and fiddling with her hands as if she's said everything but what she wants to
A half hour before the fireworks happen, you don't actually see her at all
You find the perfect spot on the balcony
Then, like 5 minutes before you're waiting for the fireworks to go off she just- appears- right next to you. Shoulder to shoulder
"Hey! Uh- could we- Could I ask you something?"
"So, So when the angels told me about 'New Years' and what they do to celebrate I kind of stumbled into a new tradition! And I-well I wasjustkindofwondering"
She was rambling again, petting her hair and not looking at you, trying to smile through it.
"Charlie?" You stop her, "Ask me."
And she doesn't really, just kind of takes your hand in hers and stares down at your lips with a mix of anxiety and content.
That's when realization hits you.
Charlie leans in, and its the softest feeling you've ever experienced.
Her kisses feel like the sun against yours, and you can feel her smile into it, already giddy that she's done it!
➡ Vaggie
vaggie is running around with charlie the whole night making sure things go off without a hitch
and in a hotel full of sinners. . . it takes a while
i think vaggie wouldn't kiss someone just for the hell of it
if she wants to kiss you, you mean a whole lot
so new years is a great deadline to give herself to suck up her courage and just do it
she doesn't usually like PDA (its not that she doesn't like it, its just how she is) but if she kissed you on the balcony, it wouldn't matter because everything else would just fall away
she'd have you in her arms, cupping your face and kissing you almost hesitantly, pecking you a few times before she's finally comfortable enough to finally fall into it
➡ Angel Dust
angel always has company with him so it'd be a pretty public thing if you wanted to kiss him (ofc he doesn't mind; just warning you)
would love your company on new years eve, and would keep you close during the cool night
he's drinking with husk for a bit before midnight starts coming around
and by then, he's already very smug, and very flirty with you
hints that you may be his choice of new years kiss (like he tells you and winks)
its a casual thing (i mean, he told you he'd do it when the clock struck midnight)
but when it happens. . . its like he can feel the fireworks in his chest
bonus if you kiss him back right after
its something he wasn't expecting entirely, but it makes him smile like a crushing teenager
tries to brush it off of course
➡ Sir Pentious
he's extremely nervous to ask you
and is all over the place with his ideas and talking to you
he wants to ask for a kiss and builds up the courage all night, coming up to you confidently and burning out the moment he reaches you
he just can't with you looking at him innocently like that
he goes off into a corner to give himself a pep-talk
"You're Sir Pentious! You can do this! You've built gadgets that have toppled crime rings!. . ."
but when it comes to you, all his plans to kiss you just sort of crumble away in his hands
every plan he's had
but he's determined to find one that works out!
You probably hear of his "rant" through the grape-vine and take a stroll over to where he is
you most definitely have to make a first step, no matter how small, just to give him some glimmer of hope to hold onto
He see's you staring at his chest, glancing away when he notices you and he's overwhelmed with his feelings
grabbing you just a few seconds before midnight and kissing you as if its the last time he'll ever do it
➡ Husk
husk is drinking all night
he likes the party over all, just doesn't want to be a part of it and left to his own devices by the bar
wasn't expecting to spend new years eve with you, but he's. . . actually kind of glad you'd sit with him to watch the fireworks
wouldn't tell you that
honestly, midnight goes by for a few seconds, and seeing others kiss he just kind of catches himself scanning the crowd and then glancing over at you
it surprises you both
but its not something he'd fight either
tries to shrug it off and smile when he leans in towards you
his kiss tickles your face, and his lips taste like black licorice from his whiskey
but its not the drinks that have his head buzzing
i really feel like he'd kiss you until there wasn't another breath left in his lungs; silently hoping it wouldn't be the last time he does it
➡ Cherri Bomb
Cherri asking you straight up if you want to make-out with her
she's very picky when it comes to people she likes (or intends to see later in the night) so feel flattered that she's been staring at you
likes to tease you if you get flustered too
"Aw come on! I've seen the way you've been staring at me ya creep!"
"Come on, I won't bite"
Cherri is DEFINITELY the one to kiss you right as the clock strikes midnight
counting down as loudly as she can until its time
she's probably staring at you all night, glancing at your lips and biting hers playfully
a deadly flirt for sure
and she's not afraid to ask you or surprise you either
or just pull you by the chin and smash her lips into yours
her kisses are rough, but in a good way, like its something she's wanted to a while
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little-bubble-of-chaos · 1 year ago
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TWST MANGA SPOILERS!!!!
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*cues squidward's voice*
OH NO HE'S HOTTTTT
ALSO ALSO LOOK AT OUR NEW YUU :(((
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HIS NAME IS MITO YUUTA AND HE'S SO SQUISHY I WANNA BITE HIM AFFECTIONATELY :(((
PLUS SIZE!YUU IS CANON 📢
YUUTA IS CANON AND WE LOVE HIM 📢📢📢
tags🏷️ @azulashengrottospiano @identity-theft-101 @aqua-beam @hisui-dreamer @iseethatimicy @ang33333333l @dove-da-birb @names-are-dumb @moonlit-midnight @cecilebutcher @siren-serenity LOOK AT THEMMMMM :(((((
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steviewashere · 1 month ago
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Pumpkin Pie
Rating: Teen and Up CW: Recreational Drug Use (Marijuana), Alcohol, Inebriated Steve Harrington Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Sad Steve Harrington, Insecure Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Kisses, Cuddling, Sharing Food, The Intimacy in Sharing Pie From the Same Tin on The Same Fork, Sappy Ending For @steddie-spooktober Day 24 Prompt: Pumpkin (My probably only fic for spooktober because it got away from me)
🎃—————🥧 Eddie wakes up to a cold bed next to him and a bladder that’s screaming.
It’s not unusual for Steve to get out of bed in the middle of the night. Sometimes from a nightmare. Maybe because he needs a glass of water. Occasionally for the bathroom. But for his side to stay cold? That’s what’s unusual.
He pulls up his pajama pants, washes his hands, and makes it out of their ensuite bathroom. Well, it used to be just Steve’s ensuite and bedroom, but it’s theirs now that his parents have completely moved out of Hawkins. Leaving their too big house in a trust fund—the only thing that’s in the trust fund, it seems. Steve agreed that he’d pay the bills, so long as his parents didn’t fully sell it; surprisingly, they gave in.
The downstairs is completely dark. No life in the living room. No flushing toilet from the downstairs bathroom. Nothing. It’s almost as if Steve isn’t even home. Though, the back porch light is on. And in the light layer of autumn fog, glowing from the pool lights, is Steve laid back in one of the pool loungers.
Heaving open the heavy sliding glass door, Eddie chances stepping outside. The cold bites him—teeth marks, flesh missing. His t-shirt and fleece pants aren’t going to fend off the chill. And Steve’s outfit won’t do any better either. Considering the fact that he’s in nothing but some ratty sweatpants. How can he sit out here, Eddie briefly wonders. A waft of something skunky and earthy flares his nostrils alive. He shuffles over so that he’s in the adjacent pool lounger, sitting on the edge, arms wrapped tight around himself. Looking on at Steve’s profile, who is completely zoned out, bringing the joint to his lips mechanically. There are goosebumps on Steve’s shoulders, his cheeks bright red, the area under his nostrils a little shiny. He’ll get sick out here.
“Steve?” Eddie softly calls. Though, it startles Steve anyway. Hazel eyes meet his: bloodshot, glistening, his pupils expanded to their full extent from how dark it is. There’s dark circles under his eyes, heavy eye bags. His skin is pasty underneath the flush. Already looks sick. “What’re you doin’ out here, sweetheart? It’s warmer inside.”
A sniff. Shrugged shoulders. Steve looks back out towards the pool, but his eyes aren’t bouncing over the water—from where Eddie follows them, they appear to be mapping out the horizon line, a blue expanse coated with fog. “My parents called”—he takes a deep pull from the joint and the cigarette paper crackles into use, breathing it into his lungs, puffing it lightly from his nostrils—“they aren’t coming,” Steve croaks, the rest of that smoke billowing from between his chapped lips.
“They called at midnight?”
Steve gives a heavy nod. Another drag. Billowing smoke. “Motherfuckers are in London right now, livin’ it large with all their stupid business friends. Mom’s tryin’ to keep Dad from chasing tail.” He blinks slowly and lets out a longwinded sigh. “It’s whatever. Tried to keep in touch with my family, made them a bunch of nice food, and this is what I get. Fuckin’ whatever.” Steve’s smiling by the end of that sentence, this humorless, lifeless thing. He goes back to the joint again on autopilot, lips wrapping around the end, taking in another big hit, letting it settle, and blowing it out with his next sigh.
Eddie looks around Steve, the crumbles of burnt joint on the lounger, what looks like a near empty glass bottle resting near one of the legs, another smoked roll but it’s just the filter at this point. He purses his lips and furrows his eyebrows. Looks at that bottle again—Smirnoff. He takes a deep breath, oh boy. “Don’t you want to go inside, sweetheart? We can talk about all this in bed, y’know. It’s warmer,” he tries again.
“Nah,” Steve drawls. “I’m warm already”—another fucking hit—“’t’s fine.”
“How much have you had to smoke, Steve?”
He shrugs again. Nonchalant like none of this is worrisome. Whatever that phone call was must’ve shaken him up pretty bad. Especially for him to come out here and party like it’s 1983? Yeah, must’ve been pretty fucked.
A cloud of smoke. “Dunno,” Steve says, “put some money in your…your lunchbox. Gutted some of my cigs. Bada-bing, bada-boom, right?” He puts the roach out on the arm of his chair, leaving a shallow crater in its wake. Steve points loosely towards the leg of his chair. “Hand me the…the uh…the drink?”
“No, Steve,” Eddie responds firmly, “I’m not gonna give that to you. We should go back to bed. Talk about that phone call in the morning.”
Steve scoffs and hefts himself up enough to come off the back of the chair, just barely reaching over into Eddie’s space. His eyes are glossier than they were before, heavy lids, Eddie can smell the alcohol on his breath when he speaks. “What’s there to talk about? They don’ fuckin’ love me. ‘M not enough for them to stay and now they’re startin’ over without me.” He collapses back. A wet breath from between his lips. “It’s whatever,” Steve spits. Swallows and sniffles and—
The first tear rolls down his right cheek.
“Steve,” Eddie breathes.
“Nothin’ to talk ‘bout.” He wipes aggressively at his cheeks with the hilt of his palms. Mutters, so quiet Eddie almost doesn’t hear him, “Don’ fuckin’ love me.”
Eddie’s silent for a few minutes. Sour in his stomach from Steve’s soft sniffles, the tears he won’t admit are there. He looks out at the forest, the dark expanse of sky. Lets out a calm, solid breath. “Are you hungry?” Eddie asks quietly.
“Sorta.”
“You want some of that pumpkin pie I made?” Steve nods to that. “Okay,” Eddie whispers. “M’gonna get you some water, too, alright? Enough of the weed and alcohol for tonight.”
“But”—
“No, Stevie, baby,” he shoots down as gently as he can. “It’s not gonna help.”
Before Steve can protest again, Eddie swipes up the bottle of vodka and retreats back into the kitchen. He pulls the tin of pumpkin pie from the fridge, grabs a fork, a bottle of water, and heads back outside. Along the way, though, he snatches a hoodie of Steve’s and some socks for the both of them.
The water and pie are set in Steve’s lap, fork laying gently across its top. He scrunches up the hoodie and pulls it over Steve’s head for him, guiding his arms through, letting it fall loosely over his stomach. And he treats the socks with the same reverence, a pair for each of them. Finally, he digs a bite from the center of the pie tin—a hideous scrape of fork prongs in the center of what he made—and brings it to Steve’s lips, who takes the scoop gingerly.
Steve hums with his eyes closed. “You’re a good baker,” he mumbles with a full mouth, “best…best boyfriend in the world.”
He snorts. “Mmm…that’s funny, I was gonna say that you’re the best boyfriend in the world. My favorite person, too.”
“Really?” Steve looks to him with his eyes as wide as they’ll possibly go, pupils still dilated, still glossy, but surprised. “Am I really?”
Eddie combs his fingers through the front of Steve’s hair, swooping it back off his forehead. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “sweetheart, you are more than best to me. You’re everything, Steve.” He offers another bite to Steve, watches as it disappears behind his lips.
There’s a small, pleased smile on Steve’s face. The corner of his eyes crinkled lightly, sparkling. He looks down at the pie tin, a crease worming between his eyebrows. Gently concerned, “Are you eatin’, too? ’T’s your food.”
“Two for you, one for me. I’m not that hungry.”
Steve hums. Still watching Eddie, as he finally takes a bite for himself. And then watching with more intent as he gets another bit of pie. There’s a smudge of pie on the corner of his mouth. Eddie wipes it away reverently with the tip of his thumb. He receives a kiss to it for his efforts, which he chuckles at.
“I love you,” Eddie breathes—easy as pie. “Love you so much, it’s almost ridiculous.”
There are tears in Steve’s eyes again. When he’s inebriated, his emotions are practically free flowing. They always are. It’s a shame he only allows himself to be this vulnerable when he’s like this, but it’s all the same real. Wetly, “Love you, too. You know that? Don’…don’t forget that. That I…I love you, Eds. So much. Love you so much.” His next breath comes out as a little, weak sob. A hiccup, this gentle burble.
He pets his hand through Steve’s hair again, gently swiping it down the side of his head, and cupping his cheek. His face is warm and his eyes are shiny and he’s still so beautiful—so wonderfully Steve—even when he’s like this. “Shh,” Eddie whispers, “I know, baby. I know. And I’ll remember, promise. Because I’m gonna love you for forever, Stevie. Just you and me.”
Another soft cry—delicate. “Kiss?” Steve asks quietly, “can we kiss?”
Instead of answering verbally, Eddie deposits the fork into the well of missing pumpkin pie. He cups Steve’s face with both his hands and gently invites himself in. Steve isn’t very coordinated, his lips too pursed, and his whole face scrunching in Eddie’s palms, but he makes do. It’s a saccharine kiss all the same—no tongue, just their lips, more smear than anything. But when Eddie pulls back a few inches, Steve is still positively dazed. As if it’s the first time they ever kissed, in which Steve looked the exact same: in love, entirely surprised his tactic worked, and still completely pleased with the results.
“I love you,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s lips, mingling in the same breath, “no matter what, I’m gonna keep loving you.”
Steve rests in Eddie’s palms, going lax into his left hand. His face is squished, he’s flushed and warm. There’s a goofy, lopsided, syrupy smile on his face. “You…you taste like pumpkin, Eds.”
“Yeah?” he laughs out through a breath. “You do, too. You’re my slice of pumpkin pie, Stevie”—he pets his thumbs over Steve’s temples, down at the corners of his eyes—“slice of heaven right here in my hands.”
“Mm,” Steve hums. He moves forward in his chair, coming up off the backing again. This time, though, he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist and squeezes. Snuggling in as close as he possibly can with Eddie still holding onto his face. There aren’t anymore tears, on his cheeks or waiting in his eyes—the best thing Eddie could’ve hoped for. With the way he moved, Steve’s cheeks are pushed flush to his eyes. His lips are pouty. Eddie can't help it, he plops a kiss to Steve's forehead, right between his eyebrows. Steve's voice is distorted and mumbling when he speaks, “You make me happy, Eds. Make me so, so happy. Love you. Don’ forget, m’kay? Always…always love you.”
For a few minutes more, they’ll be sappy like this. Slow and soft in each other’s space, sharing bites of pie off the same fork, exchanging the same words. They’ll hold close, forgetting about that stupid phone call. And eventually, they’ll head back to bed. Fluttering against each other under the blanket, Steve nestled against Eddie’s chest, drooling onto the same pillow.
In the morning, Steve will wake up, hungover. But Eddie will be right there, a glass of water and some painkillers in his hands. The same words again, “I love you.”
🎃—————🥧
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gigabyte-flare · 1 year ago
Text
He Comes Alive (Part 1)
Summary: Dropping out of college and moving back in with your parents is embarrassing when you live in a small town, where news and rumors spread fast. You have a chance encounter with a man that just moved into town, not realizing your life is about to get a lot more exciting.
Word Count: 3k
Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, implied kidnapping, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]
A/N: It was only a matter of time before I did a vampire au. I wanted to do a twist on Las Plagas where it turns people into vampires, also I was very much inspired by @nexysworld's vampire!Leon bot (which is excellent huehuehue). This fic takes place in the late 1980s, so canon stuff is completely thrown out the window so if that's not your thing, kindly move along.
Oakvale is a fictional town nestled in the heart of New Hampshire's White Mountain region and based heavily on my own experience growing up in small town New England. Shout out to my fellow New Englanders! 🥰
A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists
Title inspired by Jason performed by The Midnight
Line break Divider by cafekitsune
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You stand at the end of the walkway leading up to your childhood home in Oakvale, New Hampshire, holding your luggage in one hand. You take deep breaths, preparing yourself for a nasty welcome home. You can still hear your father’s rage filled voice from your phone call a few days prior. You had decided to drop out of college. You were failing your classes and you couldn’t cope with hectic college life. Your mom, on the other hand, while disappointed in your decision, understood that this was your choice and that you were an adult now.
You had gone to college at the University of Illinois majoring in accounting under your father’s strict guidance in hopes that you would graduate and then run the finances for his car repair business. He was only going to help pay for college if you majored in accounting, so you had agreed begrudgingly. You were terrible at math and hated working with numbers, it was no wonder you were struggling.
You collect your thoughts, exhale loudly and approach the front door, wheeling your luggage behind you. You stand before the front door, giving it a few light knocks. You hear movement inside the house and the sound of your mother yelling down that she is coming. The front door opens and you’re greeted with your mother’s smiling face; a very welcome sight, beating the alternative.
“Sweetheart!” your mom exclaims, wrapping her arms around you, “how was your flight?”
“It was alright, I was able to sleep most of the way,” you reply as your mom leads you into the house. 
You glance into the living room as you walk into the house, seeing your father watching the weather channel. He won’t even look at you or acknowledge you. Your mom sees the distress in your face. She stands in front of you, grasping your arms gently.
“Pay him no mind, sweetie, I’ve given him strict instructions to not talk about college with you. Give him time, he’ll get over it,” your mom lets go, continuing to lead you to your bedroom, “he needs to understand that you are an adult and can make your own decisions. He knew going into this that you hated math, it’s his own fault for pushing you so hard.”
You're comforted by your mother’s words as the two of you reach the precipice of your bedroom. She opens the door for you and you are met with your childhood bedroom, exactly how you left it before you went off to college three years ago: floral bedding, light pastel pink walls, matching white furniture and boy band posters and polaroids of you and your friends attached to the walls. You make a mental note to redecorate, but that can wait until later. 
Later that evening, you join your parents in the dining room for dinner. Your Mother made your favorite: pasta in tomato sauce with kielbasa, squash and zucchini. Despite the fact it was late September, the family garden was still providing fresh vegetables. At first, you all eat in silence; you don’t dare make eye contact with your father. He seems to be too absorbed in the newspaper anyway. After agonizing minutes of silence, your father finally speaks to you for the first time since you came home.
“I got you a job at the gas station, you start Monday.”
You stop mid-bite, looking at your father dumbfounded before glancing at your mother, who smiles at you. He’s referring to the one gas station in town, just on the edge of town leading to the highway.
“Th-Thank you, Dad… that’s very kind of you…” you say before continuing your meal.
All the while, you hear the TV that’s still on in the living room, playing the news, “Fish and Game is still searching for 25 year old Alicia Walker, who hasn’t been seen since Wednesday when she told her family she’d be hiking up Mt. Lafayette--”
“Oh dear… they still haven’t found that hiker, Mick?” your mom says, looking over at your father.
Your father shakes his head in dismay, “nope. Seems to be happening a lot lately, that’s the third hiker in about a month, too.”
“Hikers are going missing?” you chime in before chewing your food.
“Unfortunately. That’s what happens when you go hiking in the Notch unprepared. Promise me you’ll never hike alone,” your father says to you in a stern tone.
“Of course, Dad, I’m not stupid.”
“Good,” your father replies with a nod before he continues eating, “pasta’s delicious Sandi.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
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The weekend goes by in a flash and, before you know it, it’s Monday; your first day at your new job at the gas station. It’s an easy enough job, just working the cash register as people come in to buy things and get gasoline for their vehicles. What your father had failed to tell you, however, is that he got you the late shift: 6:00pm to midnight. The day shift person, an older woman named Peggy, who also trained you briefly, let you know that police officers often stop in at night to check on things, giving you some comfort. Oakvale wasn’t a bad town by any means, but this gas station was also close to the highway; anyone could come in.
That is made apparent when the chief of police himself stops in around 10:00pm, Chief Robert Dion, but most people in town just call him Chief Bob or just Chief. He was a burly man with a large mustache that he used wax to curl the ends; he almost looks like a cartoon character. His hair and beard are starting to show his old age. You recall he’s a nice man; you smile at him from behind the cash register as he walks through the door.
“Chief Bob! Long time no see!”
“Well, hey there little lady! Mick told me you were working at the gas station now! When did you get back into town?”
“Friday afternoon. I’m… not cut out for college, I guess…” you reply, your tone becoming morose.
“Hey! Don’t get down! Take some time to yourself and try again.” he says, leaning up against the counter on one arm. 
“Thanks Chief. What’s the latest gossip in town? I’m sure I’ve missed a ton in three years.”
“Mostly about those missing hikers. I’m sure you heard--”
The sudden roar of a motorcycle cuts him off as a Harley Davidson motorcycle pulls up to one of the pumps outside before cutting the power. You watch from your peripheral vision as the driver gets off the bike. You draw your attention back to Chief Bob.
“As I was saying… I’m sure you heard about the missing hikers.”
You nod, “yeah, it was on the news when we were having dinner on Friday.”
You hear the electronic chime on the door go off as someone walks in and that’s when your eyes settle on what is quite possibly the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life. Tall, with short blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a leather jacket with worn denim jeans and work boots. Chief Bob moves out of the way to let the man come to the register. Your heart can’t help but race in your chest as your eyes are locked on the man.
“Can I get $5 on pump uh…” the man leans to look out the window at the number of the pump he parked at outside, “four?”
“S-Sure, of course! $5 please,” you reply, kicking yourself internally for stuttering. 
The man pulls his wallet out from his back pocket, setting down a five dollar bill. Your eyes drift to his hands to check to see if he’s wearing a wedding band on his left ring finger; you don’t see one. Shifting your gaze back up, you see that his eyes are suddenly locked on yours; he gives you a playful smirk and winks before he turns to walk out.
“You’re out awfully late,” Chief Bob says to the man as he walks by.
“Had some errands to run. Take care Chief,” the man replies before walking back outside to fill his bike.
Your eyes are once again locked on the man before Chief Bob’s voice draws your attention back, “I think that’s the guy that bought ol’ Archie Mason’s place about a month ago.”
Archie Mason. Now that’s a name you haven’t heard in a while. You knew him as Mr. Mason, a curmudgeon of a man that lived on a dead end road in the woods by himself in town. As kids, you’d dare each other to go to his house, knock on his front door and see who could run the fastest before getting caught. Mr. Mason hated children.
“When did Mr. Mason die?” you ask as you get the $5 bill the handsome man gave you into the cash register. 
“I think… two years ago? The house finally went through probate and was sold. That guy moved in and has been fixing it up ever since. Usually see him at Rocky’s.”
Rocky’s is a hardware store in Oakvale, a popular spot for all the younger and middle aged men in town, right up there with Moe’s bar, which was conveniently right next door to the hardware store. You hear Chief Bob talking to you still, but you can’t focus. Instead, your attention is on the mystery man pumping gas into his motorcycle, your heart all aflutter.
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You wake up around 9:30am Wednesday morning, shuffling over to your closet to put on some clothes. Afterwards, you go into the bathroom to fix your hair, brush your teeth and put your makeup on. All the while, you can hear your father hard at work in the garage on someone’s car through the various open windows in the house. You decide to pay him a visit after you get yourself put together.
You go outside, walking over to the adjacent auto repair shop, stopping to glance up at the sign hanging off the building: Mick’s Auto Repair. Every business in town had this unspoken rule that their business had to have their name in it; Mick’s Auto Repair, Rocky’s Hardware, Moe’s Bar and Grille, Sally’s Sew Shop, just to name a few. You continue walking, walking into the shop through the open garage door.
“Hey Dad!” you call out, looking around before seeing your father’s legs sticking out from under the car he’s working on. 
You watch as he rolls out from under the car, his face, clothing and hands covered in oil stains. He looks up at you, his eyes squinting from the sun leaking into the garage. 
“Hey, what’s up?” he asks.
“You didn’t tell me Mr. Mason had died.”
“Oh… yeah… died in his sleep. The old fart was 92. Didn’t really come as a shock to anyone.” your dad replies, rolling himself back under the car.
“Do you know anything about the guy that bought the house?” you continue to pry, crossing your arms as you look down, addressing your father’s feet. 
“Yeah, his name’s Leon, I think. Moved in from D.C. if I heard right. What about him?”
“Oh… nothing… he came into the gas station the other night…” you reply, your voice trailing out as the butterflies stir up in your gut thinking about him.
Leon… that suits him, you think to yourself. 
“Now don’t you go getting any ideas, the last thing you need right now, young lady, is to be distracted by some boy. He’s too old for you anyway-- oh fuck!” your father curses as you hear something snap from under the car, rolling back out with a broken wrench in his hand.
“That’s not good,” you comment, watching as your father shoots you a glare. 
He lets out a frustrated sigh, “can you run over to Rocky’s real quick and get me another one? I’d go but I’m caked in oil. Don’t need Rock yelling at me for tracking oil into his store again. I’ll pay you back.”
“Sure, no problem! I’ll be right back!” you say, heading back into the house to grab your purse from your bedroom. 
You grab the broken wrench from your father so you make sure to get the right one and head out. The hardware store is about a 15 minute walk from your house, so you decide to just walk, enjoying the crisp hair and sun of early fall. Coming upon Rocky’s Hardware, you step inside, a bell hanging off the door ringing as you walk in. 
“Well, well, well! If it isn’t Mick’s little girl! How’s it going, sweetheart?” Rocky says from the cash register. 
Rocky is another older man, medium build with a head full of gray hair and a big, bushy gray mustache.
“Hey Rocky!” you reply as you pull your father’s broken wrench from your purse, “Dad broke another wrench, sent me to get another one for him.”
“Jesus… they don’t make them like they used to, do they? Aisle 6 dear, on the left.” Rocky says, gesturing into the store.
“Thanks Rock,” you say before proceeding to the aisle in question; however, when you turn to walk down the aisle, you stop dead in your tracks.
Leon, the man from the gas station the other night, is standing in the aisle looking at hardware, which is on the opposite side of the tools. You stand there, staring at him like an idiot, your heart pounding in your throat. As if sensing your presence, the man turns to you, giving you that same smirk from the other night.
“You’re that cute girl from the gas station,” he says; it wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
He remembered you. He also called you cute, making your stomach twist in anxiety. 
“Y-Yeah…” you manage to say before working up the courage to walk into the aisle to look at the tools.
Leon’s eyes stay on you as you approach, watching as you draw your attention to the tools.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a hardware store?” he asks playfully, you can hear him smirking as he moves to stand next to you.
“Oh… my Dad broke his wrench. He asked me to get him another one.” you reply, trying desperately not to let your nerves get the better of you as you show Leon the broken wrench. 
“Oh dear! Let’s see…” Leon starts as he looks up at all the different tools, reaching up to grab one of the wrenches hanging off the display, “this one looks like the same wrench, here you go.”
Leon hands you the new wrench, his fingers lightly caressing yours as he pulls his hand away, a gesture that is not missed by you. You feel your cheeks flush as you tuck the broken wrench back into your purse.
“Thank you mister…?”
“The name’s Leon Kennedy. But please, just call me Leon.” he replies, making eye contact with you, “what’s your name?”
You pause for a moment before you practically stutter your name out. You watch as Leon smiles at you, his eyes taking you in as he looks up and down at you.
“That is a lovely name,” he says, the compliment hitting you straight into your core; you feel your panties become slick.
“Th-Thank you… you have a nice name, too.”
Leon gives you a gentle pat on your shoulder, “I gotta go pay for my stuff. Hopefully we can see more of each other, yeah?”
You stare at him in awe for a moment before nodding, “Yes! I… I’d like that, too…”
He gives you a wink before he turns to walk out of the aisle and up to the cash register, where you hear him make small talk with Rocky. You are frozen in place in a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. You wait until you hear the bell on the door ring before you go up to the register to pay for the new wrench. 
You couldn’t get home fast enough, your entire being a bundle of nerves. Once you get home, you walk through the open garage door to give your father the wrench. You find he’s not in the garage, so you walk back into the house, only to find him standing in front of the TV in the living room, watching the news.
“Dad, I got the wrench--” you begin to say as you cut yourself off, seeing there’s a breaking news report playing on the TV, “what’s wrong?”
Your father turns to you, his look is forlorn, “another hiker went missing, they were last seen Monday.”
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That night, after getting home from your shift at the gas station, you toss and turn in bed, unable to get comfortable. You can’t get Leon off your mind. Tossing your comforter off you, you lay on your back, propping your legs up and spread them as your right hand dips under the hem of your underwear, your fingers finding your clit to rub slow circles into it.
As you lose yourself to your own pleasure you moan Leon’s name softly, closing your eyes to picture the way his beautiful blue eyes looked up and down your body earlier today, the way his jeans hugged his slender hips. You could almost smell his leather jacket. Your fingers pick up the pace on your clit, causing your hips to buck into your fingers as you chase your high, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning loudly. 
You turn your head towards your windows, slowly opening your eyes, only for your breath to be caught in your throat as you spot a pair of glowing red eyes peering into your window. You watch as the eyes suddenly dart away from the window, thumping sounds quickly following. You quickly pull your hand out from your underwear and practically jump out of bed to your window, throwing it open to look out. You look around, seeing nothing in the darkness. Your bedroom is on the second floor, it couldn’t have been a person. People don’t have glowing red eyes.
You take deep breaths, realizing your thoughts are only psyching yourself out. It was just your imagination in the heat of you getting yourself off, you decide, before you shut your window, locking it. Just in case. You walk back over to your bed, collapsing into it, your arousal having been scared out of you, so you quickly drift off to sleep.
Part 2
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