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b3ach-bunn7 · 4 days ago

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READ YOUR MIND

You're roommate and her boyfriend are incredibly loud, so you decide to spend the night at your hot friend Jason's house.

fluff, college!au, confessions, one bed trope

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It takes about twenty minutes of internal conflict before you find yourself outside Jason’s dorm room.

You feel stupid. It’s not like you haven’t been in Jason’s room before. You guys were friends. He’d slept on your couch after a movie night gone too long, you’d stayed up for hours writing essays together on his bedroom floor. This was nothing weird, nothing new.

But for whatever reason, today it feels different.

It might be the fact that you’re seeing him differently. You’re not sure when, but the line between friend and something else has started to blur. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the strong slope of his jaw, the fact that he was probably strong and muscular enough to throw you over his shoulder. How funny he was, how kind he was. The fact he studied English, how smart he was at it. It’s really no one's fault but his own. You’re surprised you’d lasted this long without crushing on him, anyway. And maybe the way his eyes lingered a little too long on your own. Innocent touches felt like something else, a hand holding your hips as he stepped behind you, a thigh against your own as you sat in impossibly tight lecture halls.

Whatever. There’s no point looking at it like that. You love your friendship with him too much to let a little crush ruin it.

If you were in any other situation, you wouldn’t be here. But it’s late and you know of all your friends Jason’s the most likely to be awake. You don’t want to bother him but you can't spend another night third-wheeling with your roommate and her boyfriend. That, and the fact that it gets particularly loud whenever you come to sleep.

After a deep breath to steel yourself, you knock on the door. It takes only a few seconds before it swings wide open.

And God, you take back everything you just said. Because he's wearing a pair of grey sweats, and an old band shirt that is showing off his delicious arms, and you don’t know if you can blame the fact it’s nearly midnight on the thoughts running through your head. His movements are slow, sleepy, as he blinks at you confused.

He pushes his glasses up his head, tufts of brown hair falling over his face. “Oh. Hey. Is- Are you okay?”

“Oh god, did I wake you?”

“Nah, you’re good.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

It takes a second before the words come out of your mouth. “I- Lily. She has- She has her boyfriend round, and I don’t sleep very well when he’s there.” You laugh awkwardly, scratching your arm.

You hold up the books and paper you brought with you. “You mind if I crash here tonight? I bought stuff to keep me busy, so I’ll be out of your hair.”

Jason smiles easily, pushing the door open further. “Of course, yeah.”

You step in, thanking him as he grabs the stuff out of your hand and puts them on his front table. His dorm is so boyish. Him and his roommate, an eccentric boy everybody called Gar, were not the best at interior design. Their couches are dark grey with red pillows, jarring against the white carpet you’d bought them as a housewarming gift. The kitchen was an amalgamation of whatever plates and mugs they’d found at thrift stores, their fridge filled with pictures from Gar’s old polaroid camera. It was cute and very them, and a warm place to sleep that wasn’t accompanied by the sound of your roommate and her boyfriend doing whatever the hell they got up to alone.

“Thanks again. I can’t stand another night with those two.”

Jason snorts a laugh, sitting down on the couch. “It can’t be that bad. They’re nice people.”

“Yeah, sure. But all they do is remind me of how painfully single I am.” You huff, sitting beside him.

He’s close enough that you can smell the expensive cologne he wears. He’s shown you it once, a fancy glass bottle. He’s spritzed it on your wrist and the smell lasted all day. He nods at your words, and you turn your head towards the TV to avoid his gaze.

“That guy you saw last week didn’t work out?”

Your eyebrows furrow. Honestly, the date had been crap, and you’d forgotten about him the second you’d gone home. You’re surprised he remembers. You tell Jason about all of your romantic adventures, hoping it will have some effect on your feelings for him. It hasn't been very successful so far. And while Jason looks disinterested as he asks you, eyes focused on the movie on screen, his leg taps up and down, and he looks a little restless. You think about lying for a split second, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.

You scoff. “I haven’t spoken to him since. He was boring. And stupid.”

Jason laughs, his eyes crinkling. “That’s rude!”

“He couldn’t hold one conversation with me! Like, I asked him what his favourite book was and he said Diary of a Wimpy Kid. We are nineteen years old!” You whine, hands covering your face as Jason cackles next to you.

“So that’s all women want. A man who reads?” There's a teasing lilt to his voice and you roll your eyes.

“Well, duh. I am studying English after all. I’d like to be able to hold a conversation with him about what I do.”

“That’s a fair dealbreaker, I'll be honest.” Jason hums, resting his arm on the back of the couch, brushing your back slightly. “Is that all you’re looking for in a man?”

The TV blares quietly in the background. Some random show on the food network where the contestant currently on screen looks like they're about to drop the tiered cake in their hands. His question rings out in the room, and you know you only have a few seconds before your silence is considered awkward. But you can’t help but think his question is so suggestive. Does he want to know why out of innocent curiosity? Or does he want to know out of something else?

“Well. Obviously not.” You finally say, bringing your knees up to your chest. “But English comprehension would be nice.”

Jason snorts a laugh. “That being said. He has to be funny. And tall, at least taller than me. And he needs to be smart. And fit. Like, physically.”

Jason watches you with a small smile on his face, nodding, like he knows you're just trying to describe him in a roundabout way. You laugh, a little nervous under his gaze. You reach across the couch and grab the remote.Your arm brushes against his leg and the contact is fleeting but it makes your skin burn.

“And all these guys at uni, and you haven’t found one who fits?”

His voice is lower when he speaks again, and when you look at him he’s looking at you so intensely. And it’s then you notice that the two of you are sitting quite close on the couch, considering it's one big enough to fit about four people.

“Well. Yes. I- Maybe.”

He just nods again. You take a quick breath in, quickly grabbing your book from the table. “Did you finish the essay for next week?”

Jason groans, leaning his head back on the couch. “Fuck. No. I completely forgot.”

You wave your own essay in the air. “Well. I was gonna ask you to read over mine, but. Nevermind then.” You sigh dramatically.

“Shut up. Lemme read.” He takes it out of your hand, slipping his glasses back on his face. They’re thick rimmed lenses that make him look older than he is and you love them.

You watch him as he reads, fingers playing with his bottom lip as his eyes skim over your work. Some part of you feels the tiniest bit self-conscious, because he is a hundred times smarter than you, but you know he’d never make it feel that way. Jason suddenly looks up and his eyes meet yours. You smile, face heating, as he raises an eyebrow.

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”

“Shut up.”

You tap the edge of your paper. “Good?”

“Great. Can you write mine too?”

You snort. “You wish.” Jason pouts and drops your paper back on the table.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it tomorrow. Right now I’m hungry.”

You sit up immediately at that. “Yes. Let’s order food.”

Jason looks back at his kitchen. “I shouldn’t. I’ve eaten takeaway every night this week, I think. It’s also,” he quickly glances at his watch, “barely half twelve. What’s even open right now?”

You groan, shaking his shoulder. “Jason, don’t be responsible! I’m here, this is like a sleepover. We need to eat something junk-foody.”

Jason just frowns. You flick the centre of his glasses and he tuts. “Hey.”

“I’ll even pay! It’s on me.” You nod and pull out your phone. You’re opening UberEats before he can protest again.

“See. Burger King is open. We love Burger King!”

“We do?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

“A whopper.”

You spend the next ten minutes deciding and then the next thirty waiting anxiously for your food. The thing with Jason, and probably the reason you like him the most, is that you can talk to him about anything. Tonight, it’s his brother Dick’s birthday party. He leans in to show you the picture on his phone, and you try not to laugh at how unhappy he looks to be photographed.

When the doorbell rings Jason runs to grab the food, before bringing it back to the two of you. It takes another twenty minutes for the two of you to finish eating, old episodes of Friends humming in the background. Sleep circles your limbs and you yawn, sipping on blue slushy that had come with your order. It’s entirely too sweet and stains your tongue blue but you keep drinking it anyway.

“I don’t know. Bruce is always asking me to come over, but. Things are still weird.”

You nod. “Yeah, I get it. But it’s good you’re trying. I-“

You're cut off suddenly by Jason yelling and pointing at your arm. You screech, dropping your slush and shooting off the couch.

“What! Oh my god, what is it?” You yell, hands rubbing at your sleeves.

“You-“ Jason tries to speak but his words are cut off by a laugh. “It was just a little bug.”

“Jason. That is not funny! You freaked me out, look!” You whine, pointing at the now spilt slushy all over your hoodie.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, sorry.”

He gets up and grabs some tissues and you furiously dab at your hoodie. The couch is also now blue, and you frown. “There goes my bed, too. Guess I’m sleeping on your bedroom floor today.”

Jason perks up where he’s blotting the couch. He frowns, thinking for a moment. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, what? Take my bed.”

Your hands drop to your sides. “Well what about you?”

“I’ll take the floor. It’s my fault you split this, anyway.”

“It’s your bed. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”

“Well, it’s my dorm so. I think I’ll have the final say, sweetheart.” He teases.

You bite your bottom lip, thinking, and toss the used tissues on the table. “Why don’t we just sleep together?”

The tips of Jason’s ears turn a dark red and he looks a little shell-shocked at your words, before it’s replaced by a smirk. Your face flushes too, and you quickly shake your head.

“I- Not like that, I meant- Stop laughing.” You snap. But the sight of him laughing behind his hand makes you giggle a little too.

“I just mean, like. I don’t mind sleeping in the bed with you. I just- I don’t think there’s any point in one of us sleeping on the floor, if there’s a perfectly good bed that can fit us both, you know?”

You’re well aware that you’re rambling, and the way he tilts his head and smiles at you is not helping. He gives the couch one last wipe and stands.

“Alright. That’s cool with me if it’s cool with you. I can also get you something else to wear.” He gestures at your now blue hoodie and you smile gratefully.

You’ve been in Jason’s room once or twice, to grab something or take a call. But this time it’s different, because you’re looking at his bed and you’re going to be in it in about five minutes. You ignore the band posters plastered on his walls, the messy stacks of books all over his floor. You sit gingerly on the edge of the mattress and wait. He comes in only a moment later. He starts rummaging through his drawers and you just watch. He glances at you over his shoulder and shakes his head, huffing a laugh.

“Stop staring. You’re making me nervous.” He whispers.

“Man up.”

He throws a hoodie at you and you catch it. “You know where the bathroom is.”

You walk into the toilet and quickly get changed. You leave your old hoodie in the hamper. Jason’s one is bigger and smells like him, and you don’t see yourself giving this back anytime soon. You give yourself a quick once over in the mirror, fixing your hair and wiping mascara from under your eyes, before you head back to Jason’s room.

When you come back, Jason’s already in bed, doing something on his phone. You linger in the doorway and he looks up.

“You want a formal invitation?”

You roll your eyes and shuffle your way over. You gingerly lift up the sheets and climb in. You are so painfully aware of how close he is, your shoulders brushing as he puts his phone to the side and lays down properly. The room is silent other than the two of you breathing. Just when you're about to speak, he beats you to it.

“Night.” He whispers.

“Goodnight.”

You’re not crazy, right? This is weird. Maybe if it was Victor’s room. A boy friend who was completely platonic, it wouldn't mean anything. But you’ve felt the tension between you and Jason, the subtle flirting, the lingering touches. You know that whatever is happening between you guys is not just friendship. And you have no idea if it's just you, because Jason is breathing so evenly you think he’s fallen asleep already.

You shuffle a little in the sheets, uncomfortable. They smell like Jason and it’s not helping to calm your thoughts down. You turn around to lay on your side, and when you do, you’re met with a face right in front of you, looking back.

It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and this close, you can make out the spattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, the grey hairs he’s growing at 20 that he always complains about. His eyelashes are so long, and you smile sleepily.

“Hi.”

He smiles too. “Hi.”

“I can’t sleep.” You mumble, eyes fluttering shut. “Those burgers woke me up.”

Silence. You don't get a reply. You open your eyes again and Jason is just staring.

“Is there another bug on my face?” You joke. But he doesn't laugh.

“No. You just look so pretty right now.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Jason looks like he’s telling you the time of day, so casual. He lifts up his hand slightly, and brushes a strand of your hair from out your face.

“I- Thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything again. You don’t know what to say. A silence settles over the room again. The two of you just look at each other. And just when you’re about to break it, he sits up so fast it makes you jump.

“Jason, what-”

“I can’t do this, I-”

You eyebrows furrow and you sit up, watching Jason flick on the lamp on his bedside table. The room is enveloped in a soft warm light, and his hair is tousled a little, his shirt wrinkled from how quickly he got up.

“What is going on right now?” “Did you know Gar isn’t home?” He says.

You say yes, because the fact you can’t hear him yelling at COD or something else, and the fcat he didn’t come say hi, is enough clue that he’s not home.

“Right, so. When I made you spill your slushy, which was an accident by the way, I could’ve easily just let you stay in there. He wouldn’t care.”

“Okay.” You say slowly.

“And. I didn’t. Because I knew that you wouldn’t let me sleep on the floor and i wouldn’t either, and then we’d be in this position, and I’d finally get the chance to fucking tell you how i feel.”

“How- How you feel?”

“Yes. And then I pussied out and I just said goodnight, and. And then you looked at me, and, fuck. I can’t take it anymore.”

And then Jason turns to look at you, and he looks so desperate as he grabs your hands, his skin calloused as he tightens his grip.

“I like you. A lot. And, you know, I’d like to think I'm pretty smart, but I know I am horrible when it comes to people, at feelings. So I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that.”

This is a dream. There’s no way this is real, that the Jason Todd, biceps and all, is confessing to you on his bed. You want to pinch yourself because the way his thumb is rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand is making your heart squeeze in your chest.

You watch those pretty brown eyes furrow slightly at your silence.

“I- If you don’t feel the same way, I-”

You don’t think before you reach forward, palms grabbing his jaw and pulling him forward so you can press a kiss to his lips. And he barely waits a second before his eyes flutter closed, hands tangling in your hair to pull you impossibly closer. Your arms slide down to curve around his neck and you toy with the hair on the nape of his neck, and he groans. You finally let go and he leans his forehead on yours, kissing your nose, your cheek.

“I like you too, by the way. If the kiss wasn’t tell enough.”

He grins, boyish and handsome, and you want to kiss him again.

He sighs happily, hands slipping up the edge of his hoodie, eyes waiting for your nod of approval. When he gets it, he smiles again, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“God, thank fuck for Lily and her boyfriend

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nia try not to write a college au mission impossible... I LOVEE JASON TODD! In my head any alternate universe hes not emo so i write him nice and cute.

thanks to all who voted in the poll! im gonna make my way through all the guys on that list so look out for it! next up will be shinsou because of a very nice commenter ;P i hope u all enjoy this, leave any fic ideas in my ask box!

#fluff #oneshot #b3ach bunn7 #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd #batfam #dc comics #dc universe #batman #jason todd x y/n #jason todd red hood #jason todd reader #red hood x reader #red hood

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luveline · 10 months ago

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also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy

“Shoes?” Amanda asks.

“Yeah, babe.”

“No thanks.”

You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.”

“I’ll have socks.”

You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes.

“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?”

“Why?”

“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?”

“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists.

“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon.

She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout.

Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.

You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.”

“‘Xactly,” Amy says.

“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.”

“No shoes,” Amy says.

“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.”

“Why?”

“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?”

In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck.

You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.”

“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.”

And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!”

You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then.

“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.”

“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”

Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing.

“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it.

“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough.

“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs.

“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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kitten4sannie · 11 months ago

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ᴀ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ᴀᴅᴊᴜꜱᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ

ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ/ᴀᴜʀᴀʟɪꜱᴍ ➠ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ

pairing: personal trainer! yeosang x fem! reader

genre: pure smut

summary: you love your weekly visits with your personal trainer. he always stretches you out just right.

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: mean(ish) dom! yeo, sub! reader, 15 year age gap, seduction, teasing, sir kink, dirty talk, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, auralism, groping, half dressed kink ig?, cumming untouched, oral (receiving), fingering, squirting, brief deep throating, unprotected sex on a yoga mat, creampie

a/n: i done lost it guys TT just imagining having messy sex with mean dilf yeo somehow adds and takes off ten years of my life at the same time like some pemdas shit aughhh… i hope you enjoy this filthy mess <33

Now Playing:

ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʙʏ ᴅᴏᴍɪɴɪᴄ ꜰɪᴋᴇ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

“What do you mean you’re breaking up with me?” you gasped into your phone, holding a hand against your chest, personally offended that your boyfriend of six months would suggest such a thing. “And what about my personal trainer? He’s like fifteen years older than me. Baby. You really think I would do that to you?”

“Y/N, I’ve seen him with my own eyes. I know you’re fucking him, and I’m over it. It’s over,” your boyfriend repeated into your ear, just ripping the bandaid off then and there.

“You can’t do that. We’re not breaking up,” you scoffed, wrapping a lock of your hair around your finger, your lips forming a pout. “Babyyy, come on, you’re being so dumb right now.”

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he quickly said, before hanging up.

“Ugh.” Pissed off, you tossed your phone onto your canopy style bed, knocking one of your limited edition plushies off and onto the carpeted floor in the process. You turned to your full length mirror, glaring back at your scrunched-up face, your hands formed into fists near your tiny tennis skirt. “If he thinks I’m fucking my personal trainer, then I’ll fuck my personal trainer, alright.”

And so, your petty, self-righteous plan of spiteful revenge was set. You were a smart girl. You knew exactly what to do to get your ridiculously sexy personal trainer to break his professional and moral codes. All you had to do was wear something impossibly tight without anything underneath and moan a little louder when he was stretching you out. It was as simple as that. Right?

࿏࿏࿏

Yeosang was everything a woman desired, all the way down to his persistent ability to respect them. He respected you, almost too much in your opinion. Here you were bent over in a ‘stretching position’ right in front of him, wearing a too-tight pair of gray leggings and the tiniest sports bra known to man, knowing damn well he could see the way you had your tits all pushed together for his viewing pleasure in the mirror, yet his eyes remained on yours.

“How does it feel, Y/N? Are you tight anywhere like last time?” Yeosang asked, his voice, like dripping honey, filled your body with a comforting warmth. He studied your stretching form, one hand resting comfortably underneath his scruffy chin, the other on his hip.

Your knees trembled slightly underneath you, urging you to return to a resting position, eventually sitting on your knees. You looked up to him, your eyelids lowering slightly, a pout on your glossy lips. “Really tight, yeah. I think I need help, Yeo…”

“Then, I need you to lay down on your back for me,” he replied in a soft, though stern tone that made your cunt pulse, getting down onto his knees beside you with a small grunt. “Show me where, Y/N. You can do that, yeah?”

Just as you laid down on the yoga mat, a fresh wave of slick slipped out of you. Damn him. He should be getting worked up over you, not the other way around. How would it be an act of petty revenge if you were soaking wet just from hearing your personal trainer’s absurdly sexy voice?

“Nnngh, it’s right here…” you exhaled, feeling out your stiff hips, looking up at him past your lashes. “I need some stretching out, I think.”

“Mm, I see. Well, let’s get you taken care of,” Yeosang nodded as his lips curled up into a somewhat mischievous smile, positioning himself so that he was in between your spread legs, wrapping his hands around one of your thighs and gently pushing it down towards your body, causing you to gasp. “Just relax for me, sweetheart…that’s it…”

You were about to lose your mind, trying harder and harder not to let out a pornograhic moan the more Yeosang pushed his body weight onto you, your lower halves practically flush together. You wondered if he could feel how wet you were through your leggings, knowing there were no panties to catch your slick. “Yeosang…fuck…”

Yeosang pushed down a little further, nodding his head apologetically. “I know, sweetheart, I know it hurts, but it’ll be worth it,” He gave you a charming smile, his fingers squeezing into the flesh of your thigh, pushing you down further, until the ache of your muscles matched the ache inside your cunt. “Still hurts?”

“No, it feels good now, keep going, Yeo,” you sighed out, your eyes glazing over with lust, gently running your hand over his, sensing a hint of desire when it began to peer through Yeosang’s own lingering gaze, his hands moving towards your other thigh, beginning to give it the same treatment.

“That’s a good girl,” Yeosang praised innocently enough, pressing your other thigh down against your body, leaning his body weight on you just enough to drive you mad, you cunt clenching around nothing. His other hand slipped around your opposite hip, expertly massaging it around with his calloused fingers. “Mm, you’re almost there. Just a little more…”

“Yes, sir,” you sighed out, swearing you heard Yeosang’s breath get caught inside his throat just as soon as you felt something hard and heavy forming against your lower abdomen, hoping you weren’t just imagining it with your overheated brain. “I’m still so tight, Yeo…be gentle…”

Yeosang bit into his bottom lip, coming to terms with your current shared predicament, wondering if you were both on the same page, but not fully knowing if he should cross several professional boundaries or not. Regardless, here he was, already pressing his stiff erection into his very young, very horny client’s cunt through her soaked leggings. What did he have to lose? His license maybe, and the respect of his peers perhaps, but it was worth the risk, especially now that most of the blood in his body had left his brain and filled up his heavy cock.

“Gentle, huh?” he chuckled deeply, pulling back slightly to admire the sight of your soaked cunt through your slick-stained leggings. “Sure you don’t want it rough, considering the way you’ve been dripping for me this entire time?” He ran two fingers down the legging seam that separated your puffy folds, rubbing them into your clit, making you let out another gasp. “Thought you could hide this from me, did you? I could feel how wet you were getting…”

“Fuck– Nooo, Yeo, I just wanted you to see it for yourself,” you answered whinily, spreading your legs open just a little wider, grabbing at the waistline of your leggings to make the shape of your cunt more pronounced, your pout returning. “Do you like it, sir?”

“Jesus, of course I do. My slutty little client shows off her wet cunt and thinks I wouldn’t like it? Huh? Did you think I would be able to hold myself back?” Yeosang shook his head out of disbelief of his insane luck, taking his time running his calloused fingers up and down your clothed slit, admiring the way the material formed to the shape of it.

Fuck it. You were too desperate now to reclaim any semblance of control over the situation, your act of personal revenge long forgotten, your mind only having enough space in it to think about Yeosang and getting used by him.

“I did it because I want to be your slut, Yeo. Please? Can I? I’ll be so good for you.” You began to move your hips along with his movements, in desperate need of more friction, more pleasure at your disposal, begging him with your glistening doe eyes.

“Of course you can be my little slut, princess. You already are. I mean, just look at you, whoring yourself out for your personal trainer like this,” Yeosang groaned out, just as he lifted your ass up into the air by your hips, licking his lips. “I’ll make you mine, sweetheart.” And with that, he tore your leggings open just enough to expose your leaking cunt, leaning down slightly to take a deep inhale of your warm, flowery scent. “God, you’re completely soaked for me, Y/N. You’ve been wanting this so bad, haven’t you? Just dreaming about my tongue inside this tight hole of yours, huh?”

“Yess, oh my god, please eat me out, Yeo, I’m begging,” you squeaked out from below him, already teary-eyed, ready to beg on your knees for the older man’s attention if you had to.

Yeosang took an experimental lick up your cunt, already collecting enough slick inside his mouth for him to swallow down happily, idly working your clit with two agile fingers. “Do you play with your little clit like this and think of me before you go to sleep at night, Y/N?” he asked huskily against your cunt, beginning to lap at your leaking hole, teasing it with his tongue. “Huh? Do you think about me stretching you out with my tongue? With my cock?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you moaned, just as Yeosang’s tongue fully slid inside you to rub at your inner walls, tongue-fucking you in a ravenous manner, his fingers still flicking at and squeezing your clit, your juices dripping down the lower-half of his face. “Fuck…! Yeosang…!”

“Uh-huhhh…” he moaned into you, sending pleasurable vibrations through your cunt, eventually replacing his tongue with two more fingers, fucking you so quickly, you couldn’t even get a chance to breathe. “That’s it, baby, you’re so close, aren’t you? Going to squirt for me, yeah? Is my slut going to cum all over my face?”

“Yes–fuck, Yeo–” you could barely call out, your muscles tightening suddenly, your lower half pulsing more and more until you let out an involuntary cry, clear liquid squirting out of you and pouring onto Yeosang’s face, spilling onto the yoga mat, and soaking into the material of your torn leggings, some dripping along your abdomen.

“Oh my god, that’s a gooood girl, look at you…” Yeosang praised shakily, gently slurping up your squirt from your twitching cunt, moaning into it, his softening cock resting against his cum-covered inner thigh. “What a good little slut you are, Y/N.”

“Good enough for cock?” you simply asked from below, reaching up to spread your cunt apart further for him, all while gazing up at him with barely open eyes, still swimming in your post orgasm bliss. “Wanna be stuffed, Yeo. Please?”

Your adorably filthy behavior alone made Yeosang harder than he’s been in a long time, making him want to join in on the fun. He wasted no time positioning himself so that his knees were on either side of your head, slowly lowering his joggers until his long, veiny cock sprung out in front of your face. “I think you should drool on my cock for me first, princess. Maybe take it down that pretty throat of yours. Sound good?”

“Yes, sir,” you obeyed, opening your mouth wide enough to take what you could of Yeosang’s impressive length inside, gagging immediately when he began to fuck into your throat, dribbles of spit leaking down your chin. “Mmmfff…”

Gutteral groans routinely escaped Yeosang’s throat, continuing to pump himself into your mouth, unable to release himself from the tight, warm confines of your now bulging throat. “God, you’re taking me so fucking well, princess. Wish I could watch you swallow my load down…” He suddenly pulled out, resting the tip of his heavy cock on your saliva-streaked lips, letting you lazily lap up the beads of pre-cum that spilled from it. “Gotta fuck you, though. I know that slutty cunt needs to be filled with cock.”

“Fuck, yes, sir, give it to me,” you purred against his cockhead, sucking and slurping on it like it was candy, only stopping when he pulled away to lower himself down your body, until his cock was slowly pressing into your willing hole instead.

“Doesn’t matter whose cock, huh?” he asked in his low, honey-like voice, wrapping his fingers around your hips, massaging into them like before, only this time he was sliding you onto his pulsing length little by little until he had completely bottomed out inside.

“Mm-hm. I love cock, especially yours, Yeo,” you admitted breathily, the shame you felt only increasing your arousal, barely able to hook your thighs around his waist when he began to quickly pump himself into you, your hole swallowing his thick cock up each time.

“You’ll let a–fuck–older guy…someone who’s your personal trainer…nnngh…use you like their own personal cum dump and–” He pulled out suddenly, only to plunge himself deep into your cunt, making you cry out. “–pump you full of his cum as long as you’re getting stuffed and bred. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Uh-huh…!” you cried, unable to keep yourself from moaning and whining each time Yeosang slammed himself into you. “Fuck me like the slut I am…Please, sir…”

“Oh godd, I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Y/N, gonna fuck your goddamn brains out,” Yeosang gruffed out in between brutal thrusts, resorting to grabbing and holding your wrists down so that you couldn’t get away from him, drilling his aching cock into your squelching hole like he was getting paid to do it, which he technically was. Life was good for Yeosang.

Yeosang did indeed fuck your brains out. He fucked you until you didn’t know which way was up or down. The only thing that brought you back to reality was something warm and thick gushing inside you, Yeosang’s calloused hand holding your own down against your abdomen, his nasty words barely reaching your hazy mind.

“You feel that, princess? All the cum I’m filling this whore-hole up with?” he asked you softly in between harsh pants, a few beads of sweat sliding down his sharp chin and landing onto your flushed face.

You could hardly move, let alone form a coherent sentence. “Yes, yes, yes…”

“I want to see it…Want you to see what I’ve done to you.” Yeosang slowly pulled out of you, milking the tip of his cock, groaning softly, leaving a few more spurts of his load on your puffy cunt, a few drops of it getting onto the torn hole inside your leggings.

He gently turned you around, so that you were facing the mirror on the wall, reaching past your spread thighs to spread open your cunt with his thumbs, laying his lips against your ear, “Look. You got cum leaking out of you, your leggings are all torn up, and you got squirt all over the mat too...Do you see what a mess you’ve become for me, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I see, Yeo. I love it…” You gazed at his hazy reflection in the mirror with hearts in your eyes, wishing you had seduced your personal trainer at an earlier date.

Inhaling your flowery scent once more, Yeosang pressed a kiss onto your cheek, nuzzling it. “That’s my girl.” He tilted his head to the side, his hands rubbing into your sore hips. “Same time next week?”

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chillian-murphy · 5 months ago

Text

Let Your Big Brother Take Care of You

SUMMARY: While visiting your stepbrother at college, you have a hard time falling asleep after some drunken mishaps. He helps you out.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS/ADDITIONAL INFO: Smut 🔞, dubcon, stepcest, intoxication, fingering, comfort sex kinda??, gratuitous mention of Taco Bell

Beta read by @sasybanana

Actually visiting with your step-brother had been the last thing on your mind when you told your parents that you would be visiting him this weekend. Sure, you got along fine, but you barely knew each other and it felt like he was moving out for college as soon as your families joined. Instead, you were hellbent on finding the best partying and hooking up opportunities his film school had to offer. Framing it as a sisterly visit and a chance to learn about campus life was purely an excuse to convince your parents to let you travel on your own, which they seemed to buy as you were headed off to school yourself next year. Besides, Neil had an off campus apartment you could crash at, which would be cheaper than a hotel.

He greeted you with a hug as you entered and set your stuff down, instantly being assaulted by the scent of unwashed laundry and old weed smoke. Still, it was comfortable enough, and was a nice taste of freedom from your mom’s house.

“So, my baby sister wants to visit me for the weekend, for reasons not at all related to my school’s reputation as a party campus?” He smirked as you situated yourself.

“Of course! Just like how my big brother spends all the money he gets from our parents on textbooks and tuition.” you shot back.

“Touché. Well, whatever trouble you’re determined to get into, fuck, I dunno, be smart about it. Use condoms, don’t get drugged. Don’t drink so much that you puke, or at least, try to puke somewhere other than carpet.”

“Wow… so caring.” you rolled your eyes as you headed to the bathroom to get ready for the evening. You snatched a flyer off of a phone pole for a house party, and the directions you got off google said it was only a few blocks away. As soon as you had your heels and your lashes on, you were off.

**********************************************************************************

Stumbling back to Neil’s apartment with your heels in your hand, the night had been a bust. You finished too many mystery drinks too fast and ended up puking in the lap of the one guy who was interested in you, locked yourself in the bathroom to cry for the better part of an hour, and bolted for the door as soon as you pulled yourself together. Thank fuck Neil had the first apartment on the first floor, otherwise you might not have been able to find it in your impaired state.

The door was unlocked, and Neil hadn’t moved from his place on the couch in the hours that you had been gone, presumably wrapped up in whatever it is that he does in his spare time (Watch movies? Play video games? Jerk off? You really didn’t know). This was fine, you really didn’t need him noticing you at the moment. You tried to enter quietly, but tripped over yourself as you moved.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Neil rushed over to you to make sure you weren’t hurt. Unable to form words, you started crying again when you met his gaze, big fat mascara tears rolling down your cheeks. Even as he helped you to stand, you wobbled on your way up and had to lean on him for support.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“Dunno… a lot.” It was true, you had chugged whatever you were handed and helped yourself to a variety of half-finished cups that were abandoned by their owners. You had never drank this much before, and had no idea how much was too much until it was too late.

“Shit, um, let’s get you to the bed. The room is yours tonight, don’t worry about it. Do you think you can walk that far?” There was genuine concern in his tone, even if he was a bit panicked and clueless. He looped an arm around your waist and guided you as best he could to the tiny room. Your flop onto the twin bed wasn’t exactly graceful, but landing on a mattress was about a thousand times more comfortable than landing on the floor.

As soon as Neil turned to leave, you began fighting your way out of your tight, itchy dress. Unfortunately, the zipper was stuck (damn cheap clothing) and the garment was too fitted to pull over your head. Refusing to spend any more time stuck in scratchy fabric hell (Seriously, Forever 21, who sells unlined sequined dresses?), you continued wrestling with the zipper and wiggling to find a better angle until you rolled off the bed and landed with a thud. Not knowing what else to do, you shouted for your stepbrother.

The worried look on his face quickly turned into an eye roll as he entered the room and saw you on the floor again.

“So are you like… determined to spend the whole night down there? Undeniably attracted to shitty carpeting? Horny for the floor?” Having a laugh at your drunken expense might not have been the nicest thing for Neil to do, but you were being such a handful tonight.

“I can’t get my dress off,” you sheepishly mumbled as you avoided his gaze. “The zipper’s stuck and I need your help.”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine.” Neil soothed as he knelt down to meet you on the floor. “If anything, I’m flattered… Usually I have to buy a girl dinner before she even thinks of asking me to undress her.”

You shot him an unamused glare, but nonetheless turned and leaned towards him so he could reach the zipper. His touch was warm and gentle as he fiddled with the impossibly tiny hook-and-eye clasp atop the zipper, one hand gently pressed against your upper back to steady you while the other went to work. Before you knew it, the dress slackened and you were able to free yourself from its confines, modesty be damned.

“A tiny little dress and no bra? You really were planning to have fun tonight.” You were still turned away from Neil and couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

“It has built-in cups, pervert!” you huffed as you rushed to cover yourself. You groped around for a t-shirt or something before remembering that you were in an unfamiliar room and not at home. “Get out, I just wanna sleep.”

“That doesn’t explain the little lacy panties, though.” Neil let his eyes trail over you before tossing you one of his own shirts. It was true, you had gone out partying with the hope of hooking up as quickly and anonymously as possible, but you weren’t going to admit that. All you wanted was to gain a little sexual experience of your own before heading out to college, but now the only boy to see you naked was your weird stepbrother. “And I’m not leaving you alone tonight. You can’t even stand and I’ve had to help you up twice. You’re too much of a mess to be alone.”

He helped you onto the bed again, only this time he climbed in behind you after hitting the light. The bed was small enough that there was almost no choice but to snuggle up to him, using his shoulder as a pillow. As weird as the whole situation was, it felt nice having him there, like a grounding tether against the spinning sensation in your head.

“For what it’s worth, I thought you looked really cute tonight. Before all the puking and crying and falling, I mean.” He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. As sweet as the gesture was, you couldn’t ignore the growing gurgle in your stomach.

“Neil… I want Taco Bell.”

“I’ll buy you all the Taco Bell in the world tomorrow if you settle down and go to sleep.”

“Okay…” you buried your face into the crook between Neil’s neck and shoulder as he pulled you closer and idly rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but moan softly at the sensation, which Neil tried his hardest to ignore.

Had you been a little more awake or a little more sober, you might’ve noticed the hitch in Neil’s breath as his hand trailed up and down your back, or the way his hand soon opened into a flat palm and started exploring lower, dangerously close to the waistband of your panties. Instead, you continued to lay silently, dozing off as his hand inched lower.

Eventually, his hand made its way to your ass and cupped the supple flesh. Feeling emboldened by your lack of response, Neil began to squeeze and knead. This made you squirm away, but in doing so, you were met with the perfect amount of friction as your clothed pussy rubbed against Neil’s thigh. Neither of you had realized just how closely you were snuggled together until now, when it dawned on you both what was happening.

Part of you panicked, part of you realizing that this was wrong through your drunken haze, but another part of you only cared that you were being touched, and it felt pleasurable. That was the whole reason you made this trip, right? you rationalized to yourself as you attempted to grind against your stepbrother’s thigh a second time.

Instead of being met with the delicious friction, you felt Neil shift beneath you. Did you fuck this up? Were you just imagining his hand on your ass? But before you could worry any further, he was rolling you onto your back with his thick, firm leg pressing between your thighs and spreading them, and the unmistakable poking of his erection against the spot where your hip met your belly. He pushed his thigh against you, inviting you to grind it.

“Is this what my horny little sister needs? Can’t fall asleep without coming?” His voice was low and husky, in equal parts from being half asleep and his obvious arousal. You were starting to transition from drunk to hungover, feeling more drowsy and dizzy than anything else, and the most you could answer with was a pathetic little whimper as he nudged you.

You rubbed yourself against him as best you could, unable to find just the right angle from the new position you were placed in. In a fit of frustration, you tried pushing Neil off of you so you could rub yourself with your hand, but he was deceptively strong and had you pinned.

“Neeeeeeeeeiiiillllll” you whined, once again wondering if this was all a mistake, maybe you should just try to fall asleep and forget this ever happened. Forget the whole night ever happened. Change your name, move across the country, and never talk to anyone who witnessed tonight ever again.

“Shhhh, it’s alright, just lie there and let your big brother take care of you.”

Just lying there was about all you could do as Neil snaked one of arms between your legs, stroking your folds through your panties a bit aimlessly before gathering the courage to reach beneath the cloth and explore further. After a bit of awkward poking around, he found your clit and began circling it gently with his fingertips, eliciting another whimper, this time of pleasure.

“See? I know exactly what you need. M’gonna play with your little pussy until you relax and fall asleep, like a good girl.” His fingers began teasing your slit, tracing up and down its length without daring to breach inside. It never would have occurred to you that Neil would know his way around pussy, he never brought any girls home when he lived with you. He must’ve gotten a lot of practice after moving out, because the way his fingers were just barely ghosting over you was driving you crazy in a way you couldn’t understand. You wanted him to stop, you wanted him to continue exactly what he was doing, you wanted him to start giving you more. All you knew was that you wanted him, and for him to keep touching you.

As if he could read your mind, he spread your innermost lips and plunged two of his fingers inside. The stretch was sudden, but not at all unwelcome. You were wet enough for him to thrust his fingers in and out of you easily, spreading your slick wherever he touched. As soon as he began alternating between fucking you on his fingers and roughly toying with your clit, you started seeing stars.

“You like that? You like me finger fucking your tight little pussy? I wish I could see it, I bet it's all pink and cute, like your nipples. I bet you’ve never even taken a cock before."

Too drunk, too horny, and too tired to form words, the most you could do was shyly squeak in affirmation.

“Next time I’ll have you bounce on my cock so I can watch your face as you come. Or maybe I’ll eat you out so I can really get to see how cute your pussy is. Or maybe you’ll just want to pay back the favor I’m doing you now and suck me off.”

Next time? You hadn’t considered something like this happening again, or even the fact that you’d have to see him again. In mixed company. With your parents around. Would he fuck you in your childhood bedroom while everyone else was downstairs cooking dinner? Or would he keep your liaisons a dirty little secret that only happened away from home?

You didn’t care. You were coming from your stepbrother’s touch, in your stepbrother’s bed, far away from anyone else you knew. You felt your stomach tighten and your toes involuntarily curl, much stronger than you ever felt sneakily rubbing yourself in the shower. Thank fuck you were in a dark room, because you swore you could feel your face going all stupid.

You must not have realized how much you were panting and clenching around his fingers, because Neil seemed to know exactly how close you were and began whispering in your ear, encouraging you to come. You could barely register what he was saying, you were so lost in the sensation of his breath on your neck and his hand on your cunt.

Your orgasm finally took hold, and you could hear yourself babbling in pleasure but had no idea what you were saying, if you were even forming coherent words, as the pleasure ripped through your body like an electric shock. After the initial burst, you felt your body relax in a way you didn’t know was possible, releasing tension you didn’t even know you were holding. You swore you could feel yourself melting through the mattress before realizing that no, that was just sweat.

Noticing that you were lying there like a limp noodle and no longer squirming and moaning, Neil rolled off of you, withdrawing his hand from your panties. His fingers were completely soaked with your wetness, and while his initial instinct was to wipe them off on his shirt, roll over, and go to sleep, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he was rock hard. In a stroke of genius that would soon lead to literal stroking, he realized he had the perfect lube on hand.

He shoved his drenched hand down his boxers and began tugging his desperate member, softly grunting in rhythm with his pumping fist. Part of you felt bad that you weren’t helping, you had kinda forgotten that Neil was a complete person with desires of his own and not just a machine to get you off, but you were cozy and half asleep and he seemed to be handling the situation well enough on his own. At least, well enough that he was coming all over the front of his shirt.

He carefully pulled his soiled shirt over his head and wiped off his hand and what was left of his mess before tossing it on the floor and reaching for the blanket that had been kicked to the bottom of the bed amidst all the excitement. You felt yourself being tucked in as you gently dozed off, snuggling into Neil’s side as soon as he laid down beside you.

Yeah, you were going to visit your step brother a lot more often now.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis x y/n #watching the detectives

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silverbrain · 25 days ago

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I dropped my earring!

How the lads would help you find an earring you dropped... the sole reason being i dropped mine and turned the place upside down for 30 mins to find it (sigh)

Xavier

You’re almost ready for your coffee date with Xavier. He’s already waiting for you on the couch, when you step out, fiddling with your earring.

“I’m ready, I’m ready…”, you hurry along. Xavier opens his mouth to say something, but closes it as he sees you, eyes moving appreciatively over your all-black outfit. You decided to keep it simple but warm, opting for a black turtleneck and black jeans to counter the cold winter temperature.

You step towards the exit before you feel your earring slip past your fingers and drop to the ground. You freeze, before crouching down to find it. Xavier looks at you curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“I dropped my earring! Oh goodness…”, you worry as you rake your hands over the carpet on your floor, hawk eyes trying to locate the shiny piece.

Xavier leans down to join you. Soon, the two of you are on your knees on the living room carpet, searching for your lost earring.

“I can’t lose it…”, you say, worriedly, “I really like it…”

Xavier tries to calm you down. “Don’t worry, it was right here…we’ll find it”, he reassures.

You nod, trying to quell the anxiety rising in your chest, as your hands don’t stop searching for it.

Beside you, Xavier stills suddenly. “Wait”, he says, “switch off the lights”

You stare at him blankly. “Go on”

You stand up and pad across the living room to flick the switch, enveloping the two of you in inky darkness. The next moment, you see a flash of light bang through the space. You stand in the corner, confused till you realise what Xavier is trying to do.

“Found it”, you hear him say. You switch the light back on and walk over to him holding out the small shiny earring in the palm of his hand. “Just shone a little light on it…”

“That’s smart!! I don’t know why I didn’t think of that!”

Xavier smiles, “It’s because you were stressed…come here”

He puts the earring in your ear, holding his hand out to you for the back of the piece. You hand it to him, heart fluttering a little at how close he is.

“There”, he says, happily, “You look pretty”

“Thanks…”, you smile, “Let’s go?”

Rafayel

You’re nearly done getting ready as Rafayel fiddles with the different makeup products on your table. He’s opened and smelled the lip plumper and the blush and you watch him from the corner of your eye, a little bit amused.

You stand up, nearly done, when you realize you’ve forgotten your earrings. You haphazardly put them in, before one of them clatters to the table, amidst the different makeup products.

Rafayel looks up from the lip stick he’s examining in his hand. “Oh no”

You two immediately dive into the table, shifting things around, trying to find it. You get a little too chaotic, and a few things rattle off the table onto the floor below.

“Woah, calm down, cutie, we’ll find it”, Rafayel says, bending down to pick up the bottles.

“Come here”, he says, grabbing your wrist. “You were standing right here”, he says, taking your place, where you stood a few minutes ago. “If you dropped it here…”, he muses. He starts sifting through the things on your table again, movements chaotic and hurried. Before you have time to complain, he holds it up like a prize.

“Found it!!”, he says, handing it to you.

You joyously give him a hug. “Oh my god! You did!”

Rafayel gives you a smile, as he watches you put it on.

“How does it look?”, you ask him.

“Hmm…it’s nice…but your eyes are prettier!”, he says.

You chuckle a little. Rafayel never gives up an opportunity to flirt.

Zayne

“Zayne!”, you exclaim. He has his back turned to you as he replies to a few texts from his colleagues.

“Yeah?”

“I dropped my earring!! I don’t know where it went!”

“Oh…”, Zayne looks thoughtful. He pockets his phone and walks towards you. You’re sitting on the bed, mirror propped up against the headboard. The bed was a mess of random clothes you had pulled out of the closet while trying on different outfits. It was, after all, a dinner with a few of his professors, and you couldn’t help but want to make a good impression.

“Don’t stress, come here”, he says, calm as ever.

You’re still holding your carefully done hair up with one hand as you step to the side. He begins to carefully shake the pieces of clothing out, placing them to the side.

You step forward, joining him, but he resists. “No, no, sweetheart, I’ll look”, he assures you.

He continues to methodically rustle the clothes, his eyes carefully scanning the sheets.

Soon, the clothes are out of the way but the earring is nowhere to be seen. You feel the panic rise as you wonder if you should just wear another pair and look for it later. Your eyes widen in surprise as Zayne lifts up the mattress in a swift motion, checking the headboard of the bed.

“You don’t have to! Let’s just look for it later”, you resign, realizing it was going to be a tough operation.

“Nah…I’m going to find this nuisance of an earring now…”, he says, determined.

He hoists the mattress up on its side and examines the underside of the bed. You shift you weight uncomfortably, joining him in his search. “Ah!”, he exclaims suddenly, producing the little shiny pearl from under a wooden slat, “here it is!”

You chuckle weakly as he hands it to you. “Are we late?”, you ask, putting in on quickly.

“No”, he assures you, resting his hands on your waist.

Sylus

Sylus walks in to find you unusually frustrated. “Something bothering you?”, he asks.

“I…uh…”, you answer distractedly, already searching for your lost earring, “I lost my earring”

He raises an eyebrow. “Did you lose it just now?”, he asks

“Yeah…it fell…”, you say, a little annoyance creeping into your voice.

“It’s okay sweetie, we can just buy you a new pair”

You huff, his suggestion only contributing to your irritation. “It’s not that! It’s special!”

“Oh?”, you can practically hear the question in his voice, but he doesn’t ask, and you don’t elaborate.

He joins you in looking through the various items on and under your dressing table, but it is clear he’s distracted.

“Why is it…special?”, he asks, finally, unable to contain his curiosity.

“I…”, you try to avoid his gaze, “I bought it at a fair…it’s like a prized…thing”

“Okay”, he says, understanding. Soon, he begins lifting random objects with his Evol and tossing them around.

“Can I at least have a description of what I’m looking for?”, he asks you.

You feel al slight blush creep on to your cheeks as you describe it, “It’s a small red gem…shaped like a dagger”. You hold out the other of its pair on your open palm. Sylus straightens up from his position on the floor to take a look at it. His eyes widen in realization.

“Oh, it’s this?”, he asks, looking into your eyes.

“Yeah…”

You had bought the pair from a random shop in Charon East while on a night trip with Sylus. In fact, he had helped you choose between this and another pair. It was dear to you, but admitting it felt a little too…embarrassing? Vulnerable? You’re not sure.

It didn’t matter, though. What matters is, you had to find it. You wouldn’t be able to sit still if you didn’t. You shift your eyes back to the floor. Too bad Sylus had red carpet everywhere.

“How about I use a magnet?”, he asks.

“Earrings aren’t magnetic, are they?”

“Expensive earrings aren’t magnetic…this on the other hand…”, he says. He pulls out his phone and calls someone. “Yeah…bring a powerful one...Yeah”

He sits down on a nearby chair. You sit down on the bed, dangling kicking your feet restlessly. A few minutes pass.

“I didn’t know you liked these that much…”, he begins, “I’m touched”

You open your mouth, before his phone pings. Sylus leaves to meet someone, probably one of the twins before returning with a button sized magnet… or so it seems. “Stand back”, he instructs.

You didn’t expect him to resonate with the magnet. He holds it in his palm, red mist swirling around his hands, before a few things shift. A few safety pins and clips come flying as they stick to the magnet, so does a little ruby red dagger earring. “There it is”, he says, disconnecting the trinket and handing it to you.

“How about you wear another pair of earrings tonight and give these to me?”, he asks, after a moment.

You look at him in confusion.

“What do you need them for?”

“I’m going to get them re-made, with real gems this time”, he says, eyes fixated on your reflection in the mirror as he stands behind you, “After all, you deserve only the best things from me”

#lads sylus #lads xavier #lads rafayel #lads zayne #love and deepspace #lads imagine #lnd sylus #lnd xavier #lnd rafayel #lnd zayne #xavier #sylus #rafayel #zayne #lads x reader #lads x you #it's been silver #silver writes

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heartkaji · 6 months ago

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‪‪❤︎‬ TEEN ROMANCE !

(n) — bllk boys & their kind of love. includes : isagi yoichi, reo mikage , nagi seishiro , oliver aiku

ISAGI YOICHI ! — romeo & juliette.

dating yoichi is sweat-soaked skin pressed against sweat-soaked skin on the mink fur rug of your bedroom floor carpet. isagi is yawn slash yearning—he kisses you silly with honey on his tongue & your back pressed against your bedroom floor with thighs wrapped around like ivy on his waist. there are bruises on your neck & cherry lipstick stains his cheeks & every minute or two you have to pull away because ‘i swear i hear my mom coming up the stairs.’ even so he nibbles at your neck & traces comets on your skin because ‘don’t worry pretty, she’ll never find us out.’ your heart’s in your throat & you swear the footsteps are getting louder but all you can do is swallow your chest & pray. you hug yoichi a little tighter because unlike romeo & juliet, your story will not end in split hearts & summertime sadness.

REO MIKAGE ! — skin & a country club

super rich kids make nothing but fake friends but the ghost of reo’s lips on yours is oh-so-sloppy yet oh-so-real. his mouth tastes like raspberry syrup & strawberry chambourd & when his palms slip below the seam of your skirt you think he is grace. you know that once the party’s over & it’s time to leave the yacht you’ll go back from star crossed lovers to trust fund babies who long for something more than riches & bloodline; so you tug at his hair & guide his hold to your hips in hopes he’ll hold you tighter & never let you go.

NAGI SEISHIRO ! — lovelorn lethargy

nagi seishiro is lazy lover & lazy kisses & lazy touch on your waist, neck, everywhere. he smells like sea foam deluxe & cotton elixir but you want to crush his bloody throat between your palms because ’one more round angel, i swear it.’ it was one more round thirty minutes ago / an hour ago / an hour and a half ago & you’re only a girl so you’ve decided you’ve suffered enough. you have your coat on your shoulders & mary janes grace your feet & you’re about to leave but your waist feels warm & there’s a weight on your neck—‘m’sorry bunny, i’m all done now, yeah ?’

OLIVER AIKU ! — sex & a daydream

last week he left scars on your back / this week he left scars on your neck / next week he’ll leave scars on your heart. you hate aiku & his smart mouth but you love the way it swells & blossoms with peach smeared lip stick when you bite his lip & kiss him silly. aiku is fox teeth ripping through peach flesh—he tastes like brown sugar & warm honey in a wheat field but you can smell carolina herrera & you know it’s not yours. your heart bleeds up your throat & you should push him away but his hand’s in your hair & his palms grip your knees. you’ve got all the time in the world—you might as well kiss him now & curse him later.

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eldritch-spouse · 2 months ago

Note

Reader who’s in Sybastian’s labyrinth and is tired and horny. They decide if they’re going to go out they are going to at least relive themselves so they hop on a bed and get to it. The bed seems weirdly shaky to them but they just assume it’s that they’re just getting really into it. (Un)fortunately for them the mimiced bed decided it wasn’t going to kill this human I mean if you expose your self to him you have to be their mate!

[Fem reader]

TW: Dubious consent; Mentions of gore; Excessive drool; Squirting.

Sybastian spared you little thought at first.

It only took a few months of participating in Vinnel's game to understand how to profile his catches a lot better. He knows who the clever ones will be, the troublemakers that kick and bite, the overly paranoid, and the ones that are so incredibly stupid he almost feels gross getting rid of them.

You didn't fit into any category, when Sybastian first saw you, his mind lumped you into the "standard" group and he moved on to the assumed challenging targets.

This hunt has singlehandedly made the mimic question his own profiling skills.

First, he mistakes the smartass for someone who actually knows what he's doing, and manages to tear into him in no time. Then, a girl who froze at the sight of him actually managed to make him trip, alerting the whole group.

He's had to try to catch the same people several times just because he's failed so drastically in his attempts to gouge their attitudes, and he's sure the jester is cackling behind his many screens upstairs, relaying Syb's failures to the audience like a verbal paddling.

Naturally at this point, Sybastian was wrong about you too.

Because he sure as shit didn't expect you to be the last one standing.

That's not all though. Not only are you the cream of this crop, your savvy side seemed to completely expire as soon as you realized everyone had perished. It's as if you deflated.

Yet, instead of crouching down in a corner to scream your lungs out, or crawling under somewhere to pretend you can hide forever, or simply start pounding at the doors until your nails chip into pieces...

You pace the bedroom where Sybastian disguises himself as a bed. Back and forth, silent footsteps on a carpeted floor. You were smart to discard your footwear and avoid the wooden floors, Lord knows they're made to creak at the slightest miscalculation.

He couldn't help but wonder what was in his prey's mind.

Now that he can see you a little closer, you're one of those pretty humans. At least, the ones he thinks are prettier. The kind he likes to pet on their hair and run his fingers all over. Pretty thing with pretty meaty thighs and a juicy ass. He didn't quite know if he wanted to bite you or lash his tongue against every crevice of skin he could see. It was good that you were the last one, the others weren't as nice-looking.

What could you possibly be thinking of, in that moment? So concentrated, so serious, he could almost have fooled himself into thinking you were on the cusp of hatching a plan.

He didn't think it'd be this...

He didn't think you'd take off your pants. Could hardly believe his concealed eyes when you laid upon him, giving him a spectacular view of your panty-covered goods before he felt the softness of your skin on him.

He shuddered, but if you noticed, it didn't stop you from getting comfortable, adjusting your underwear and playing with yourself.

Sybastian has been sweating for a while now. He hopes you're dumb enough to think the sudden moisture is sweat from your little session. Truth of the matter is that mimic has never had this happen to him. He's never had someone sit on him while in disguise and start masturbating.

Sure, he's been a bench to a few couples drunkenly making out, but it doesn't last long before he's got at least one of them in his jaws.

Nevertheless, this has proved to be a special kind of arousing to the mimic, who relishes the feedback of your movement and desperately tries to shift the position of his eyes so he can get a better view. He's daring enough to catch a glimpse between the sheets you crumpled, locked into the motion of your fingers as you dip an index and middle digit into a wet cunt and clumsily circle your clit with the remaining hand.

You seem rushed, desperate, trying your damndest to rip an orgasm out of yourself for reasons that he can't understand. None of Santi's fluids were utilized in the making of today's traps, so it's not as if you're in an incubus-induced frenzy. He's perplexed, but far from complaining.

Is it that you want him to find you? What a little freak you are, waiting for the big bad thing that's been picking you all off one by one to show itself...

He wonders what you'd do if he rushed into this room, if he wasn't the very bed you're being depraved on. Would you lift your ass and invite him, beg him to please have mercy? Hoping and praying that maybe the offer of your gorgeous body could keep him subdued, could distract him. Cute as you are, not a bad strategy, he'd say.

Syb makes a rumble of delight when the first sounds start tumbling out your lips. Little stressed mewls and gasps that have him this close to losing his mind. Somewhere in his modified form, the monster's cock swells and his need starts to become unbearable. He was never the master of self-control, these games just drive him that much wilder. Drool seeps to the ground when his long, gross tongue peeks beneath the mattress. Sybastian slowly allows his arms to emerge from under the bed, giving them more and more mass while they reach upwards.

With your eyes closed in focused pleasure, you could never hope to see those claws hovering in the air, inches from making contact. The mimic is swift to lock one of said hands around your throat, keeping you pinned to the faux mattress by the neck. The scream he assumes you were going to belt out becomes no more than a surprised cough.

Naturally, he expects the following tantrum. Flailing like a fish out of water, your shrill noises of confusion and terror only excite him further, though the mimic is patient, allowing you to tire yourself out for the time being, rumbling lowly like an engine on standby. Eventually, much to his liking, your motions slow down, vastly due to the realization that the monstrous hand around your neck is static. You breathe rapidly on him, body still overheated and wet.

Syb's reward is a softer hold of the vital location, his remaining hand shamelessly groping the leg closest to it. He doesn't let you have any time to think or react, because one second he's rubbing your thigh, the next he's cupping your belly and slipping fingers between your soaked cuntlips, grabbing you quite literally by the core.

He's excited and rough, able to hear your prior terrorized noises turn into confusion and discomfort. An improvement, in his opinion. Sybastian brushes your clitoris more accidentally than purposely, and the reflexive squirm of your legs paired with the whimper that you let out is what makes him lose composure.

Your poor body nearly tumbles to the carpet when the very furniture you laid on transforms before your eyes, into a looming, lanky monster with a purple chest for head, rows of misaligned teeth decorating the edges of that maw, gangly arms just as long as his legs protruding from it. He makes sure to not let you fall face first, but that might have been a bad idea, because when your doe eyes lock with his acidic yellow ones, you scream again.

Sybastian only tilts his head. It'd be pretty funny if you started running now. He'd have to go after you with an erection, with isn't very comfortable, but it'd be entertaining.

Instead, you shakily crawl back, hues widening like saucers when he brings his own stained fingers to his giant maw and calmly laps the traces of slick off them.

" What... What the fuck are you? "

If he was any other, more dignified type of monster, Sybastian would have felt offended.

" ... Syb. " He grunts out.

You don't look very satisfied with that answer. Unfortunately, you're neither talking nor moving, and his excitement won't let the mimic prolong this pause.

" Want to play. " He points at you, nodding. " I want too. Come. "

The mimic watches your face grow heated, little eyes darting everywhere but him after they catch sight of the tented loincloth doing absolutely nothing to conceal his arousal. He doesn't care to hide it either. You should look, you'll be getting acquainted soon anyway.

" N- No. No, I wasn't... "

Sybastian snickers, mocking. " Was was... I felt. "

Nervousness makes your throat bob.

" I liked. " He adds. " Naughty. Come. "

Sybastian adds more intensity to his poorly constructed coaxing, something you seem to pick up on. A healthy amount of self-preservation is, presumably, what stops you from flailing again when the mimic traces a claw over your ankle, scooting closer.

Sybastian eyes you like a hawk. There's little question, if you make stupid moves, you'll be punished.

Fortunately, you're smarter than that, allowing him to sit right next to your tense figure. Syb likes to think he's being gentle when he pushes the fabric of your shirt up, reaching your collarbone, inhuman eyes widening as you eventually take it off on your own.

Cooperation, from the humans he snags? Now isn't this novel. His cock all but throbs in response.

He laments to see that piece of chest padding your particular type of human tends to don, and his patience does have limits, because he simply uses a claw to rend the thin middle portion apart and free your chest to him.

You have pretty breasts.

Well, a lot of humans do in Sybastian's opinion, but yours have him salivating harder, those soft points visibly perked by your prior activities. The monster rumbles with giddiness, almost unable to belive a catch as appetizing as you landed in his grasp.

He roughly discards his own scant coverings and wastes no time using long arms to drag you closer, skin on skin contact having the mimic rumbling.

" Beautiful mate...! "

He praises, admiring your reaction when a blue tongue longer than your leg unfurls from his gaping maw. You lot always seem to squirm and gawk, and much to his ceaseless amusement today, he gets to see something more than just awe in your gaze. Curiosity.

There's little to no warning before the very same muscle rudely swipes across your chest, clumsily soaking your tits in warm drool while the monster chuckles at the yelp you let out. He savors them like he doesn't get to do this often, finally rolling that clapper between your breasts and easily allowing it to slink downward, across your softer portions and flicking the end of it around your mound.

" Stretch you nice... "

Sybastian sounds delirious even to himself, angling your legs a little roughly just so he can see what he's doing. Your flushed folds stare at him invitingly, he can only imagine what they'll feel like hugging his cock, but your kind is small and frail, he's learned he has to make you sticky and loose first. Whatever you were expecting when your wide eyes glanced down, it certainly wasn't the speed and dexterity that ravished your pussy.

He's never been one to play footsie, or tease, not when he's the one who's been teased to madness by your dirty little show. Sybastian's laps across your cunt are hard and fast, nearly jostling your lower body with their intensity, the pressure against your clit hardly giving you time to gasp in-between each harsh swipe. Not that it lasts long, he's shoving a drool-soaked tip inside far too quickly, trying to worm as much of himself in as he can before he's forced to give you room to breathe and adjust.

The monster beams down at you, his restless spidery hands stroking your thighs, a twitch of his member at every jolt of your legs when he hits something special. Syb can only hum and moan at the taste of your arousal before he's undulating his tongue forcefully, the grip of your inner walls doing nothing to stop him from making space. He salivates even more, a pool of drool drenching the space between your legs and the floor as Syb instinctively tilts his head, as if it could somehow shove him deeper into your poor vaginal canal.

The monster's eyes squint, studying your reactions when you jerk and cry in sudden pleasure. He doesn't like to gloat, but he thinks he's got the science down to make pretty little things like you explode all over his tongue. And if he's not wrong, you're about to give him just that. Impatient, the mimic paws at you until he can get a better feel of your clit, hoping that rolling the nub between his digits while his tongue presses into every crevice of you does the trick.

In no time at all, your undignified noises of animal delight are chocked by a sudden inhale as you tense and freeze. The contractions of your muscles signal his victory, Sybastian all but rips his tongue away to keep torturing your little pearl while you erupt beautifully for him. He laughs and rumbles pridefully when you try to twist away in overstimulation. It could be shame too, but he hardly cares, there's no need to feel ashamed of something so hot.

A lot of monsters can't squirt like this. You though? He wishes he could spend a whole day making you burst over and over-

Giggling a couple more times, the monster finally allows your twitching form to get some rest, peeling away slowly to bask in the mess he's made of you. He makes no secret of his enjoyment, moaning when the flavor coats every inch of his mouth and dropping a hand to his aching cock. The pumping is furious and fast, but not enough, not compared to what you could be doing for him right now

While you pant and huff, the monster grabs you by the neck, careful -Oh ever careful- not to stick his claws where they're unwanted. Not to twist anything wrong. You're smart, smart enough to know you shouldn't jerk your neck or move much in his hold. He can say he's grateful for that, later.

At the moment, Sybastian pulls you closer, slapping something hot and throbbing against your cheek. The way you try to side-eye his dick from this position is hilarious to him.

" ... Say thanks. "

Said shaft bumps against the side of your face tauntingly a couple more times, until his grip eventually lessens and you're allowed to see what you'll be working with more closely.

There are many things a monster like him can flex over humans, and you've come to see plenty today. His speed, his strength, his durability, his tongue... It should come as no surprise that his size would also feature in that list.

Thankfully for you, Sybastian can muster some modicum of patience for this moment, watching the gears turn in that little head as you try to think of how to best please him. One of your hands grabs him by the root, the other cups his balls, your initial attempt to fit him in your mouth fails. On the second one, you manage to at least get a decent portion in, making the mimic pant at the sight of your plush lips wrapped around him.

Chains clink when the mimic lifts his hands, ready to grab you and start fucking into your hot mouth, though he's beaten to it by your own sudden enthusiasm, putting every ounce of effort into making sure he stays still.

Clever girl, you know he'd just hold you down and make you choke.

Syb supposes he can give you that mercy, you're so responsive after all, he's certain you're the perfect mate for him. The way you slurp and hum around his girth is only compounding on this.

As pretty as you look working at him, the mimic's legs are tense enough to snap and he's leaking precum at an alarming rate, so you're nudged off his flushed cock with hesitation.

For a brief moment, Sybastian considers getting you out of this trap and finishing it all somewhere more comfortable. But then he looks at the clear-ish shine on your lips, the peaks of your tits and those cute eyes so focused on his every reaction... No, he doesn't think he can wait.

" Want you bad-! " He all but whines.

It's all too easy to maneuver you however he likes, ending up in the position worthy of a rutting creature, the monster draping over you on all fours. He's long enough to curve his chest of a head and stare back at you when the tip of his slobbered dick teases your opening, beady pupils full of mischief and lust. Although there's mild worry painted on your expression, you spread your legs the smallest amount.

And that's all he needs.

He thinks, pounding into you, seeing your teary eyes glaze in a trance, your mouth hanging open yet silent, it'll be hard to keep such an appetizing little thing away from the others...

The first thrust is drawn out and intense, the two of you groaning in bursts of sensation. He only stops when he's hilted, grinding a bit to milk the perfect grip of your pussy kissing his cockhead. That's the one respite you're allowed before he starts snapping his hips against yours hard enough to clap, snarling and digging dents into the poor ground.

Better it than you.

But maybe, if he fills you up well enough, if he breeds you so hard that the scent of him never leaves, they'll get the message.

#Sybastian oc #monsterfucker #monster boyfriend #monster smut #monster x reader #monster x you #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #terato tag #terat0philliac #terato #minors dni

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chronicowboy · 2 months ago

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Eddie isn't entirely sure how he ends up on Tommy's doorstep. One minute, he's stuffed into the corner of his couch, staring at the two empty cushions beside him, trying to will joy out of thin air. The next, he's grabbing his keys and knocking on a familiar door. But it's not too familiar a door. It's not the right door, he thinks. It should be Buck's door. But this feels safer somehow.

Buck's door is joy. Buck's door opens into a room filled with sunlight. Buck's door is a portal to all the good things Eddie has never found himself worthy of. He's still learning to trust the good things, joy. And whilst he trusts Buck implicitly, intimately, instinctually. He still doesn't quite trust himself.

Tommy's door is... Well, Tommy's door often opens on casual camaraderie. Tommy's door mainly leads to the sparring mat in the garage. Tommy's door is just a door. Eddie doesn't know if he's there to see it open or seal it shut.

It's been a week since. Since Eddie had danced around in his house in a pair of tighty whiteys he'd forgotten he'd owned. Since an intoxicatingly simple joy had buzzed through his veins and filled him with a glowing pink light that had almost burst out of him when he'd looked through the peephole. Since Buck had offered him a beer and stuffed himself into the corner of the couch to drink in stony silence between sniffles. Since Eddie had resisted the urge to make himself small and had instead spread his legs, so he could feel the warmth of Buck's knee burning into his bare thigh. Since both of them getting drunk enough on beers and each other that they'd danced around Eddie's house until they collapsed on the living room floor. Since they'd laid there on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling, and Buck had finally mumbled his way through a recital of his breakup.

It's been a week of Eddie biting down on his reflexive guilt at seeking out joy whilst Buck wallows in despair. Of Eddie plastering himself to Buck in every spare moment because, even when he's down in the dumps, he gives off joy like a spaceheater throws out heat. Of Eddie allowing himself to bask in it without the whispering warning voices in his mind for the first time ever. Of Eddie allowing himself the simple pleasure of Buck without fear of ruining him.

Eddie startles a little when the door opens, but it's alright because Tommy startles too. His whole face stretches in shock then scrunches up with a wry little laugh and a shake of his head.

"Guess I probably should have expected this, huh?" he says.

And Eddie thinks that's odd. Hadn't expected it himself. Doesn't know why he's here. Doesn't know what he's going to say. But he opens his mouth anyway, lets whatever is in his throat claw its way out, and what he says is,

"Buck is worth the risk."

Tommy blinks. Eddie blinks back.

Something pools in his chest. Something warm. Something hot. It's the warmth of Buck's knee against his thigh and the heat of boiling anger. It's scorching. Eddie can't tell which one burns worse.

"Okay," Tommy replies evenly.

"Buck said that you said you couldn't move in with him because he'd break your heart."

"I did."

"He's worth that risk," Eddie repeats. Doesn't know how else to say it. "Don't you get it? He-he's so smart and passionate and kind and full of love. His head gets a little messy sometimes, but he's still so so full of love. Why can't you see that? He's beautiful inside and out. And he's worth the risk. You can't not take the risk with Buck. He's worth a hundred broken hearts, don't you get that?"

Eddie's chest heaves. A thousand more words crowd his mouth, but he can't wrap his lips around any of them. His brain is flying a mile a minute, everything slipping through his fingers just when he thinks he's grabbed a hold of it. And Tommy is just staring at him in that slightly disconcertingly blank way he stares.

"Eddie, I think maybe you should try giving that speech to a mirror." His voice is still even, but there's an edge to these words that makes something in Eddie sing, makes him want to press against it until it draws blood.

"What?"

"I think you think Buck's worth a hundred broken hearts because you and him have been breaking each other's over and over for the past six years."

Eddie flinches.

"What? I would never—"

"Just because you didn't mean to doesn't mean you didn't." Tommy sighs and drags a hand down his face. All the defensiveness melts out of his posture as he leans against the doorframe. "Okay, let's talk about me, yeah? You wanna know why I didn't take the risk with Buck?"

It's a rhetorical question. Still, Eddie says, "yes."

"Because." He shrugs. "Six days, six weeks, six months, six years. He'd never mean to, but. He was always going to break my heart, Eddie. And he was always going to break it for you."

There had been this moment when he'd first sat down in the confessional between the click of the door closing and Father Brian's greeting where the whole world had seemed to fall silent. It was a crushing thing. In that moment, twenty-three years of sins had fallen upon him like a helicopter. It was as if the booth itself was trying to swallow him whole. Now, Eddie feels it again. Feels it so vividly he almost thinks he's back in that stifling little wooden box. Feels it like a whole new confession, unforgivable and yet inevitable.

"And you were always going to let him, right?" Tommy doesn't even leave room for an answer. Just nods to himself. "You can be angry with me if you want. I hurt him, I know that. But I took the risk when I started this. The writing was on the wall from the beginning. I knew I was living on borrowed time, but... Well, I don't have to explain to you why he was worth it, do I?"

"W-what do you—"

"God, Diaz," he groans, and presses his forehead against the edge of the door. "He was never trying to get my attention. Jesus. He spent that whole game pulling your pigtails."

"No, he was jealous of—"

"Of me because I had your attention." Tommy shakes his head. "I'm not doing this. I can't. Please leave."

And well, Eddie's never needed all that much of a nudge when it comes to running away. He's halfway to his truck when Tommy's voice stops him in his tracks.

"Hey, Eddie?"

"Yeah?" He turns, watches something complicated break across Tommy's face.

"He's worth the risk."

The door closes. Another opens.

#sami rambles #i don't know what this is. eddie doesn't know what this is.#all i know is eddie diaz wouldn't understand why someone wasn't willing to take the risk of letting buck break their heart #and he's a big old hypocrite (affectionate)#buddie #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #911 fic #buddie fic #buck x eddie fic #edit: forgot id written this lol

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rezitio · 20 days ago

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"𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐄" gojo satoru

smut. series masterlist

leak: You find yourself in Gojo's bed again

genre: post-high school series, college sex, plaything, smart!rr, realistic college fuckboy (You're just a plaything), messy org, p in v, dacryphillia, gojo is high, sweet talk

artist: gojo satoru

━━━━━━

All your senses are dulled; that smart brain that was always at work, either running that sharp mouth or your honour roll grades, has gone blank.

But you're not spaced out either. You wish you could be, but each thrust brings you right back to the present. The pleasure you’re feeling down there won’t allow you to even dream of being anywhere other than the reality of Gojo Satoru’s bed being pounded into.

But who are you to complain? You called for this. Blowing up his phone with shit like ‘I need you’ when his other girl is right next to him. He was so close to blocking your number if you kept flooding his DMs.

But all it took was one nude to get this man to blow off the other girl and invite you over. You’re lucky, you tell yourself.

So lucky that fuckboy Gojo has a liking for your body. The boy who all he does is lead and everyone cheers.

He’s calling you to his bed of all places. For all his other hoes, it's either their house or another room in his mega mansion; the university calls a dorm. You’d like to think it makes you special. You’re not.

He’s digging you deep into the mattress with each thrust. Your eyes dart across the room; it's all you can do other than yell. The room was dark; the only light around was the blue LED strips hidden by the ceiling designs, matching his eyes.

The whites in his eyes had turned a light red. Contrast to your sober ones. That should have been your first sign, but from ignoring red eyes to red flags, warnings have never been your strong suit.

Your clothes and his mixed on the floor, the purple liquid on the nightstand that got knocked down somewhere in between the time you still had energy to squirm around was still dripping onto the expensive carpet.

Gojo didn’t care; he had enough money to buy another one. Right next to the cup of lean was his firearm. You don't know what happened to him during his teen years that made him turn out like this, but those who knew him when he was in his senior years all say it was inevitable for him and his group.

The lights were all so pretty. Illuminating behind the design of the ceiling. You wanted to get a better look at it, gently raising your head to look up, only for it to roughly be pushed back down.

Just like that, you were brought back to the reality of things: how deep he was in you, how loudly you were screaming. His dick was ravaging you at a constant rhythm. It was hitting that spot repeatedly with each thrust. And his dick wouldn’t even leave your warmth for a second, keeping you filled up.

A drop of salty water finds a way to your mouth. That's when you notice a pool of wet cloth around your face. You had been crying for a while now, although you’re now noticing it Gojo’s been staring at it for a while, but he didn’t care to slow down. In fact, it gave him an ego boost.

You’re crying yet at the same time begging him not to stop; how pathetic could you be? Tired of the noise, his digits find a way into your mouth. You know what he wants you to do; you suck on them, muffling your sounds. In other words, you shut up.

It was working for a while. He could deal with the vibrations on his fingers masking your loud moans until he felt himself getting close. He could care less about the progress he was making and quickened his pace chasing the release.

Trying to keep your sound in, you bite down on his fingers. He didn't mind; all his other sensations dulled down and focused on his cock. He could feel his body teasing him, electric currents rushing from his sacks through to his length, then dancing at his tip as more electricity piles on his tip.

God, he loved your body so much. It was like it was in perfect sync with his. Your lower body started shaking on his dick; the screams were slipping out; you were also close.

Your fingers reached for the hand binding them, digging your nails into his skin. “Toru…” You yelped out, but he already knew; a little bit of your white liquid was already running down his thigh. You were doing such a bad job of holding your orgasm.

“Cum on me, baby.” He commanded his hand, left your hands, and began to work on your clit as you released. All his self-confidence decimated as he felt his own orgasm rushing out and had no control over it. He was no better than you.

He pulled out, and your cream blew over his thigh; he didn't have time to mind it, though. His finger in your mouth pulled your head back quickly, rushing to release in your mouth. But he barely had control over the pleasure you made him feel.

The little squirter almost missed your mouth, causing part of his walls and the side of your face to be painted in the same liquid that was now rushing down your throat. He sandwiched your head between the mattress and his dick, enjoying the vibration of your gags and gurgles.

“Sh... struggle with me...” He lowly whispered as if he wasn't suffocating you. God, he hated how messy you were and how messy and stimulated you made him.

label: rezitio© album: post-high school au sample: Yale by Ken Carson

im currently writing a nanami fiction, so buckle up for that 😛

kodaswrld for banner

#꒰꒰ : REZITIOWORKS #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #Spotify #jujutsu high #song smut #smut inspired by song #yale ken carson

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hotch33tos22 · 4 months ago

Text

Tomura x reader (smut)

“Messaging.”

New message from -BRAT-

‘Hey’

‘Y/n I'm busy’

He texts back a few minutes later, his annoyance in the short reply was almost palpable. Sheesh.

‘What ya doing?’

Tomura groans reading your next message and rolls his eyes. Did you not understand the concept of him being busy? He was in the middle of something, he didn't have time to chat

‘I told you I'm busy.’

He quickly texts back, his patience was already wearing thin.

'Right haha sorry’

Tomura can't help but scoff at how quickly you gave up-annoyed that you apologized and didn't press further. He was expecting more of a back and forth but not even a minute later you apologized and backed down.

‘Don't be such a pushover’

He texts back with a bit of annoyance, but not necessarily at you, more so he wanted you to put up a fight

He sighs, tapping his foot impatiently against the floor as he glances around the small room. It's a rather boring room-grey walls, grey carpet, and a single bed in the corner. He was staying in a shitty motel for the night since it was already getting late.

He glances at his phone, seeing you hadn't replied yet. He was hoping you'd respond but was starting to think you didn't feel like it. He didn't think he had been too rude earlier...

"Tch..."

He mumbles quietly, scrolling through a shitty phone game to pass time. The more time that passed with you not replying, the more he started to overthink.

Usually you'd keep pushing him, yet for some reason today you hadn't. It was annoying how much you were suddenly acting so passive.

He checks his phone one more time to see if you had answered yet but sighs seeing the last message was still his.

Tomura puts his phone down on the bed, running a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. He felt a small pang in his chest— something akin to guilt or regret. Was he being too rude earlier? He didn't think so but he was used to you being feisty and pushing back...

He rolls over onto his back and glances up at the ceiling, staring at a stain in the corner as thoughts start swirling around in his head. He really was overthinking this.

'Sorry I was taking a shower’

Tomura feels slight relief at finally getting a response from you, but also gets strangely annoyed all of a sudden. He can't understand why you apologizing again irks him this time—he just feels pissed at the fact that you're being so submissive, so obedient. Why weren't you pushing back?

‘Didn't ask’

He texts back quickly with a scoff, his response sarcastic and bitchy

'Bitch.'

Tomura doesn't expect that kind of response. His eyes widen a little in shock and he slowly sits up on the bed. He smirks at your words and laughs quietly to himself — there you were, finally putting up a fight.

‘Good to know you haven't lost your attitude’

He texts back, hoping to get some type of conversation going. It was boring as hell and he was starting to be antsy.

‘Whatever I was trying to be nice but all I see is a pissy boyfriend’

Tomura is a bit taken back at being called "pissy". He was more annoyed and bored if anything, but you were right about the boyfriend part. He was being a bit sour.

‘Shut up. I'm not pissy I'm just busy and your ass kept messaging me even though I told you so. You're the one being a pain in my ass right now.’

He texts back, a tinge of irritation in his words even though he's kinda amused

'Two messages are you dense?'

‘Doesn't matter how many times you texted. I still said I'm busy and told you to knock it off.’

He rolls his eyes, getting a tad more annoyed that you're being a smart ass but not too annoyed to not entertain it. As much as he can't admit it, he did miss your little back-and-forth. It was interesting. Plus having someone to chat with distracted him from the boredom currently taking over his thoughts.

‘Whatever are you still busy? Or are you with your side piece?'

Tomura can practically feel himself getting more irritable by the minute. How little did you trust him? Why would you automatically assume he'd go and see another woman? The fact that it kinda stung that you'd think that pissed him off

‘You know damn well I'm not with a side piece. Besides who in their right mind would even put up with me?’

He texts back, leaning back against the headboard of the crappy motel bed with a huff

‘Unfortunately me.'

‘Shut up. You make it sound like putting up with me is a chore’

He grumbles, not amused at your sarcastic comeback. He wants to say something harsh to you to get you riled up but can't find the words that won't make him sound like a jackass. So he keeps it short and simple, and thankfully his next message from you pops up on his phone before he has time to think too much on what to say next. He looks at your response and huffs, shaking his head as he types back.

'It is babe.'

Tomura can feel himself get more worked up by each text from you. You were really being a sarcastic ass today. He couldn't even deny the fact that you were correct in what you said. It was usually a chore to put up with him and he knew that... but that didn't mean it hurt any less to be reminded of it— by his own partner no less.

‘Shut it. Be nice to me damnit’

'I tried to be and you called me a pushover.'

Tomura's hands clench into fists as he reads the last message. You were right, you did try being nice and he essentially just told you to shove off. He's starting to feel guilty... but of course he can't show that

‘That's 'cause you'd been acting like one by apologizing and backing off so damn quickly’

‘I forgot you like it when I get all bitchy'

Tomura has to bite back a grin at your last message. The fact that you were fully aware of how he liked it when you were snarky and challenging was amusing to him. It was also a slight turn on too...

‘You damn right I do. I like you better when you're biting back.’

'whateverrr. Hurry up and get home.'

Tomura feels a small sense of giddyness at your next message. You wanted him to come home. You missed him? He can feel the corners of his lips tug up into a small, uncharacteristic grin

‘I will. I'm almost done up here then I'll be back. Still can't believe you're being so clingy though.’

'well I miss you and your dick.'

Tomura nearly drops his phone as he reads your message. The grin on his face grows wider into a smirk and he can't help the flush that's creeping across his cheeks. Out of all the responses he was expecting... that wasn't one of them

‘You miss my dick huh? What happened to you being so innocent I gotta remind you to watch your language?’

'Oh please you don't say that when you stuff it down my throat'

Tomura's dick twitches slightly at your last message, immediately imagining you on your knees for him. He groans quietly to himself, quickly typing a response back as his free hand comes up to run through his messy hair.

‘Watch it babe. Keep talking like that and I might never make it back’

He gets a sudden idea, one that he's not sure you'd like but it's worth a try

‘Hold on, gimme a sec. I have and idea’

‘Oh?’

Tomura quickly opens the camera app on his phone, setting it to the front camera

‘I'm gonna send you something but I want you to promise that you won't freak out.’

‘I swear if it's another one of those videos where you torture someone I'm losing it.’

Tomura rolls his eyes, not surprised that you'd think that. He can't help but laugh a little at how wrong you can be sometimes.

Although, in all fairness, he was unpredictable and the videos of him 'messing with' unsuspecting heroes probably didn't help

‘No, I'm not sending you a murder video. I'm not stupid.’

"Good.'

He scoffs, typing his next text

‘You gotta have more faith in me babe’

He holds up his phone so his face is visible, and with his free hand, he reaches under the hem of his shirt, his palm coming to rest just above the waistband of his sweatpants. He smirks into the camera, his eyes locking on the phone as he clicks send. He's anxious to see how you respond to the picture, since the only thing visible in the picture are his face, bare stomach, and his sweatpants that are being tugged down slightly

'Fuck.’

‘That was hot.'

Tomura reads your response and he can't help but smirk, feeling a wave of pride at how you reacted to the picture. He was so damn right to send it and get you worked up. He texts you back within the minute, the smirk still plastered on his face

‘Ya like it?’

As you viewed his picture repeatedly you quickly send him a picture of you in his favorite langire as you set the camera showing off your curved body as you stroke a sexy pose on his bed.

Tomura's eyes widen at the picture that suddenly pops up on his phone. You were in his favorite underwear that he bought for you. You were laying on his side of the bed in a seductive pose and it looks like you've already spread your legs a bit...

“Goddamn...”

He whispers, feeling his sweatpants get tighter as he stares at the picture

He quickly types another message, his breaths a little shorter as he stares at the picture you sent as he takes it in slowly

‘You're trying to kill me aren't you?’

‘You started it, Do you have any idea how much I need you.?'

Tomura feels his chest tighten a bit at your words, wanting nothing more than to be able to touch you himself. His hand that's above the waistband of his sweats dips a little lower, a frustrated huff leaving his lips

‘I'll be back soon. That's a promise’

He sighs and glances away from the phone and back up at the ceiling of the crappy motel. Part of him is tempted to send you another picture but he stops himself, thinking it'll be better if he waited until he got home to get his hands on you himself.

As he tried to dose off he got another notification. You had send him a video of you folding your tits together with one hand as you looked up at the camera with those stupid lustful eyes.

Tomura's dick twitched as he watched, his need growing with every second. He could feel his pre-cum already starting to dampen his boxers as he saw his girlfriend’s naked body. You’re beginning to explore your body, cupping your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples, which stood erect and begging for attention. Tomura imagined it was his mouth working on those nipples, sucking and teasing them with his tongue.

Tomura couldn't take it anymore. He needed release, and he needed it now. He stripped off his clothes, his hands already working on the button of his sweats. As he threw his clothes aside, his cock sprang free, hard and dripping. He grasped it tightly, pumping it slowly as he imagined your mouth wrapping around his length, your lips kissing and sucking the tip.

He closed his eyes, letting the video play in his mind, feeling the warmth of the room and the tight pull of desire in his balls. He imagined you were there, your mouth working its way down his body, tasting every inch of him, your hands teasing his balls, playing with them, squeezing gently as your tongue flicked and teased.

Tomura's breathing quickened as he stroked his dick, faster now, a steady rhythm as the head of his cock glistened with pre-cum. His imagination was on fire, he pictured your mouth taking him deep, your throat working as you took him to the back of their mouth, sucking hard, your eyes looking up at him, full of desire.

Fuck he needed you so badly. He was this close to waiting it out, to not touch himself while he was away from your aching body. But you had to send him the most sexy video.

His hand bucked up and down his needy cock as his thump bullied his pink top just how you would.

“F-fuck-..” his voice rasped lowly as he tried to hold in his moans.

“Need you so badly.. s-shit..” he groaned as you continued his movements his balls becoming sloppy bouncing up and down his movements and his tip dripping with pre-cum.

He tilted his head back from all the lent up frustration as he groaned softly.

“H-haa..” he muffled out as he felt himself come closer to his release. His hands gripped around his cock as he hurried his movements rapidly.

“S-shit shit shit y-y/n..” he groaned and grunted as he felt his cock twitch rapidly while he released. As he continued his movements rising his high his breath rasped and hitched.

His cum oozed out his twitching cock dropping down his hand to his sloppy balls. He quickly picked up his phone snapping a quick picture of the sight sending it straight to you.

‘You’re such a damn brat. You’ll get that when I get back, You want me to get you pregnant huh? You want me to come back home and knock you up. Is that what you want?`

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darby-rowe · 9 months ago

Text

୨୧; rafe cameron decided to come over

18+ | nsfw | mdni

cw fem!reader, slight dubcon, gagging on fingers, usage of the word “bitch”, creampie

you were forgetting something. rafe had you pinned down with vice grips on your forearms and something kept nagging at the void in the back of your mind. it was plans you had made. important plans, you couldn’t remember.

it was always like this when rafe shoved his tongue inside your mouth, already feeling his bulge ready to bust out of his jeans as he ground against your pelvis like some salivating, hungry dog. it made your mind into a white room. already so dumb with your brain cloudy and unwilling to cooperate with your smart mind.

smart girl you were, but rafe liked you brainless.

brainless, like how your eyes went blank and glassy as his large cock sank deep inside you. the muttering that flooded out of his mouth seemed to enter your ear then out the other, but you could make out him saying stuff along the lines of, “fuck, such a good pussy. such a good fuckin’ pussy.”

rafe wasn’t a gentle lover, either. he fucked you hard and deep, making sure your cervix knew the head of his cock like you knew the back of your hand. gripping your jaw so tight it made you whimper, he told you to “open wide, baby” before shoving his fingers far down your throat in an attempt to emulate the gargling noises you made when his dick was in your mouth.

the sound of knocking at your front door and notifications from your phone coaxed your brain back from its cock-drunk fog. rafe was quick to slap your hand away when you went to grab for your phone, taking it in his own hand and forcing the screen in your face to activate its face id.

“here,” rafe read your text messages with a perplexed yet intrigued tone to his voice. “it’s your friends. seems like they’re at the front door, but don’t worry. ’m almost done with ya. they can have ya after me,”

carelessly, rafe tossed your phone onto your carpeted bedroom floor and quickened the pace. “gonna dump my load in this pussy — mmh — then you can run off with your friends, yeah? c’mon, don’t get all shy now. what? your friends don’t know how you take my dick every single fucking day? don’t get all fucking quiet on me now, bitch. this pussy is mine,”

with you, it didn’t take long for rafe to shoot his warm cum deep inside you, filling you up and letting him watch as his seed oozes out of you. the cleanup was subpar at best, and your hair and makeup were fucked up after spending precious time on making yourself look nice.

god, you hated how inconsiderate rafe could be about your social life that wasn’t entirely about him. like clockwork, however, rafe always decided to come over at the worst times.

#♡; dally writes!#this fic idea came to me while i was in the shower #i didnt think of rafe at first #but i was like yea this would make an interesting ficlet #and boom here we are #obx fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction

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b3ach-bunn7 · 2 months ago

Text

FORWARDS BECKON REBOUND PT2

You learn to live without Dabi, and he learns he can’t live without you

nsfw, smut (u can lowkey skip it, it’s right at the end), angst with happy ending, Villan!Dabi

—————————————————————————

You don’t know what you were expecting.

He’s a villain. A villain who kills and burns people alive, who’s looked death in the eyes enough to know him by name. He was cruel and he was calculated. He works for the biggest villains in the country, the ones you’ve seen targeting children, quirkless people like you.

And you think you love him.

You think you love him and you miss him. So much more than you thought you would’ve. You’d had hope, that first morning when you’d woken up and seen that he was gone, that he’d come back. It was the first time he’d left the house since you’d found him, and you thought that maybe he just wanted fresh air. To go outside. You ignored the voice in the back of your head that told you otherwise, and you held out hope.

But then a day passed. And another, and another, and soon you lost track of how long it had been. You had to bite the bullet. Pack up the clothes you’d bought him and shove them in a box deep in your closet. The sight of the couch in the middle of your living room was too painful of a reminder, so you put it on Craigslist, and despite the stains and the ugly pattern, someone buys it. You buy an equally cheaper and uglier one, and bite back tears as you push it into place. As quickly as he’d entered your life, Dabi was gone.

You don’t know if you should allow yourself to mourn him. You don’t even know what it is you’re mourning. A lover? A roommate? A friend? A boyfriend? You hadn’t even kissed, barely gotten closer than falling asleep on his shoulder, sitting little too close to him on the couch.

You spend your days trying to forget. You call your friends. You pick up a few extra shifts at work, tend to your ruined flowerbed. Despite all the extra work you give yourself, trying your hardest to tire yourself out, you still can’t get to sleep at night. You toss and turn and think of him. It oddly reminds you of his first few nights here. You’d been convinced he’d come and kill you in the night and you’d made sure to lock your door before you slept. Now, you sort of wish he did kill you. Or at least do something horrible so you wouldn't miss him so much.

You don’t even know why you did it. The smart thing to do would’ve been to just call the authorities, but part of you knew calling the police and the ambulance would cause too much drama. You know where you live. Cheap and affordable places are never going to be in good neighbourhoods. You’ve seen the types of people that lurk around at night. You can only imagine the reaction of those living around you if you brought police to their front door, the news channels aching for a story on one of the most infamous villains almost dead on some random lady’s door.

So you took him in. Like a stray. You sewed him up and did what you could to stop the bleeding. You apologised to a man who couldn’t hear you as you cut his shirt away, tossing it in your bathtub. He’d mumbled incoherently to you the whole time you’d seen him shut. Something about rain? Rei? You were unsure. His words were slurred, and the grip he had on the hem of your shirt loosened as he lost consciousness bit by bit. When you finally settled him down on your couch, old tarp shoved underneath him, he was out cold.

And then you waited. For him to wake up and kill you, for him to leave. You had no idea. You felt so stupid every time you looked at the sleeping figure on your couch. The marred skin, the staples hastily pressed into his skin. He looked evil. He looked scary. You scrubbed at your carpets and your tiled bathroom floor for what felt like hours to rid them of the red that had seeped into them. Or maybe just for something to do.

And then when he did wake up, and those piercing blue eyes landed on you, you felt your heart drop into your ass. He was beautiful, a fact that annoyed you greatly. The strong lines of muscle, the straight edge of his jaw. His eyes had narrowed at your staring, and you think that was the beginning of the end.

He loves to stare. You learnt that very quickly. Any time you changed his bandages or just walked around the house his eyes were trained onto you. Watched your every move. You felt hunted in your own home, prickling under his undivided attention.

And you don’t know when the lines blurred. When instead of avoiding him in your room you sat on the loveseat next to him. When you started talking. When you learnt his favourite food was soba, that he liked the colour purple. You felt silly asking him such inane questions but what could you do? You wanted to get to know the man living in your home. Dabi was a villain, sure but he hadn’t been very villainous towards you. Granted, he did threaten to kill you every other sentence but you were almost completely positive he was joking.

And you got closer. He opened up little by little. Stopped staring at you all the time. You took that as a sign of trust. You dutifully cared for the stab wound on his chest, and he got bolder.

That was around the time he started flirting with you. Well, he had been flirting from the start, but this was less minor sexual harassment and more actual flirting. Calling you pretty, complimenting the stuff you wore. Kept calling you baby despite you reminding him of your name every time. You ignored the feeling in your stomach at the grin that stretched over his face whenever you flushed red. The fact he was always fucking shirtless. It makes sense he’s well built, what with all the villanous fighting and all. But god, if you can’t stop staring.

Dabi calls you brave. You don’t think you’re brave, you think you’re stupid. You’re stupid to start sitting right next to him. To feel the warmth radiating off his body as he leans his arms on the couch behind you, as he peers over your shoulder to see what you’re reading.

You watch him grow more comfortable in your home. He stops looking so on edge all the time, relaxes. You get used to the sight of him lounging in your home every time you come home from work.

Dabi starts doing little things. You come home and find the dishwasher empty. He’s learnt where you keep your dishes and your cups. He watches you cook. Pesters you until you let him lick the batter off your spatula. It feels so horribly domestic it makes your stomach turn.

And you ignore the thoughts you have that stop being about roommates and delve into something more dangerous. You don’t miss the way Dabi’s eyes linger on your body, the set in his jaw as you complain about a flirty coworker. You think you’re seeing things, but then your mind drifts to that night at the window. The last time you saw him.

He’d looked so perfect. The two of you soft and ready to sleep. It had been early, early enough that the sleep niggled in the back of your mind, loosened your tongue. He leant against the window and his biceps curled as he leant forward to put out his cigarette, flicking it on the floor. You tut, and he grabbed another while assuring you littering is not the worst crime he’s committed.

And you knew he could see the disbelief on your face when he called himself ugly. And you barely thought as you call him hot. Hot as fuck, at that. His lips twitched like he was about to smile, instead he brushed you off.

And then you touched him. You couldn’t help yourself. You’d always wondered and now seemed as good a time as any. With you in a shirt that smelled like him, his eyes not leaving yours for longer than a minute. He didn’t stop you, barely tried with a teasing comment you knew held no meaning. You traced his skin like a puzzle, from the rough texture of his scars to the soft skin next to it. He’s told you time and time again he doesn’t feel but he shivered against your touch like he did. And you didn’t need to look at him to know he was looking at you so intensely you felt his gaze down to the bottom of your feet.

And you chest tightened as he let you. He let you touch him, and it didn’t feel like the times when you’d leant on his arm or bandaged him up. It felt different. It filled you with emotion you can’t describe, and you let it. And when you brushed against his face you saw him breathe. Physically saw his chest heave up as your touch became more insistent. Dabi looked at your lips and you looked at his, wondering what it would feel like to kiss the scarred skin on them.

And then your phone rang, and the moment was shattered. Now, you can’t remember what your mother had wanted, what the call was about.

And when you awoke the next morning, he was gone.

Maybe you pushed too far. Maybe he had business to attend to. You’ll never know, because he never told you. You had no way to contact him and you don’t think you would if you could. The message he was trying to give you was clear.

Your friends invite you to drinks, and you decline. It had been a long day at work, and while you could do with your favourite pink mimosas, you’re tired. The idea of being in a bar right now makes you cringe. So you bid your farewells, and make your way home. You stop to grab a few groceries. It took you a few times to remember you didn’t need two times the amount you usually buy.

You don’t think about Dabi as you walk up your driveway. Not when you look at the newly planted flowers you’d bought at the market. You will never see him again, and it’s a fact you need to learn to live with.

At least, that’s what you think, until you walk into your house to find him sitting on your couch. His leg is jigging impatiently up and down, and he’s wearing the long trench coat you see him in on the news. You stand in the doorway, shopping bags dropping to the floor. The noise pulls him out of whatever stupor he’s in and he turns to you. Eyes travelling up your body before he looks away.

“The lock on your door is shit. Took me less than a minute to pick it.”

You don’t say anything. It’s your turn to just stare at him. His voice sounds exactly the same and yet you feel like you’d forgotten the low drawl he always spoke in.

“You should get that shit changed. It’s a shitty neighbourhood you live in.”

He looks at you again and it seems to wake you up. You grab your bags and take them to the kitchen. You wrap your coat around a chair and sigh, hands rubbing at your face. Your hands shake, and you clench them tightly so he won’t notice. You walk back inside and Dabi is still sitting up. Like he’s scared to let himself relax.

You clear your throat. “Are- Is the wound okay?” You ask, voice quiet.

Dabi looks confused for a second. “Oh. Yeah, s’fine.”

You nod. You haven’t moved from the entryway of the living room.

“The fuck are you standing around for?” Dabi speaks suddenly.

Your eyebrows furrow at the tone of his voice. “Don’t talk to me like that. I don’t know what’s going on right now. Why- Why are you here?”

Dabi fixes you with a pointed look. He doesn’t say anything. You clench your fists tighter. He’s starting to piss you off.

“Well? You can't just, just break into my house whenever you want. I don’t know what you think this is.”

“God, I leave for two weeks and my roommate status is revoked?” He drawls.

“This isn’t funny, Dabi.” You scoff. “I’m not in the mood for your jokes right now.”

“You aren’t?”

“No.” You shake your head. “It’s been two weeks. You just left without saying anything.”

“Did I owe you an explanation?”

Your brows furrow and you scoff. “Well it would’ve been nice, considering you’d been living in my house for two fucking months.”

Dabi just shrugs. And you want to throttle him and hug him and kiss him all at once. Instead, you just stay where you’re standing, crossing your arms. He huffs a laugh at your figure.

“I feel like a school teacher is about to tell me off.”

“Dabi.”

He glances at you quickly then turns away. It’s his turn to clench his fists, and you pale a little at the sight of smoke curling out of them. You take a small step back.

“Are you- You’re not here to-“ You don’t even finish you sentence but he rolls his eyes, frustrated.

“I’m not here to fucking kill you. I would’ve done that a long time ago if I was.”

“Then what? Why are you here, Dabi?”

Dabi goes quiet again and you seethe. He’s not fucking talking. Nothing of meaning, anyway. He’s just looking at you and it's making you more nervous and antsy than you already are.

Just when you’re about to say something else, he rises to his feet. And in a few quick strides, he’s in front of you. You’re not short by any means, but he towers over you, the smell of smoke and cigarettes lingering on his clothes. His hands twitch like he’s about to reach out to you before he decides against it.

“I’m here because I can’t stop fucking thinking about you.” He rasps. Dabi speaks like the words hurt to get out, and he looks anywhere but at your face when he says them.

“I thought leaving would make me forget about you. But I can't. It’s like you fucking haunting me.” He laughs slightly but he looks slightly feral as he does so.

His hands reach up. They grip the edges of your unzipped coat and pull you closer.

“Why are you trying to forget about me?” You mumble.

He shakes his head. Slowly, eyes screwed shut. “Because I know. I know you don’t- You don’t deserve this. You deserve a good man, baby. Not somebody like me.”

You want to tell him that you want him. Not someone else. But you can’t speak. He lets your coat slip down off your shoulders. One hand curls around your waist and the other travels up. Settling on your shoulder, fingers dancing against your pulse.

“And I know that. And yet I can’t keep away.”

“You-“

“I thought about killing you.”

He speaks like he’s talking about the weather. And that should scare you, but his hand is so gentle as it closes around your neck, so tender and you don’t think he could kill you if he tried.

“Coming back and setting this whole place alight with you inside. But that wouldn’t do shit, would it?” You swallow roughly and his hand moves against your throat.

“And then I tried to fuck the thought of you away.” The hand on your waist tightens its grip.

“But that didn’t work either. Every single one of them reminded me of you.”

You shake your head. “You’re an idiot.”

He tilts his head. “Am i?”

“Yes. You don’t get to decide what I deserve and what I don't.” You frown. You reach up and cover the hand on your shoulder with your own.

“If- If I wanna be with you, I’ll be with you. Whether you think I deserve it or not.”

His finger moves against your lips. “You wanna be with a big bad villain?”

You smile slightly. “You’re not very bad to me.”

Dabi sighs, defeated. “You’re so stupid, you know.”

“Yeah, probably.” Your other hand comes up to grip the collar of his jacket.

He breathes heavily. “I don’t do this.”

“That’s okay. We can figure it out. If. If you want to.”

“And what if I don't?”

You shrug. “I don’t think you’d be here if you didn’t.”

Dabi huffs a laugh. “Fuck. You gonna let me kiss you?”

“If I have to.”

And it’s not like how you imagined he’d kiss you. You thought he’d be rough and violent, but he’s so slow as he leans his head down and presses his lips against yours. His eyes flutter shut and yours follow quickly after, hand on his jacket pulling him in closer. And for a moment you think you should feel guilt, some horror that a murderer is kissing you so softly, but he sighs into your mouth and you don’t think you could care if you tried.

His hand curls inside your hair, tugging your head back to give him better access. He crowds over you, and the hand on your waist is hot as he starts moving with more purpose. He licks against your bottom lip and you open your mouth. His tongue tease over yours, and you feel the cool metal of a piercing and you whine, hands pulling him closer.

Your noise seems to awaken something in him. Because suddenly he isn’t being soft and gentle, and he pushes you back until you hit the door of your kitchen, and he’s on you. Hands lifting up your shirt, mouth pressuring hot, heavy kisses on your mouth, your neck. He bites hard and you wince, but he just grins at you.

“Don’t give me that face, you love it. Take this off for me.”

He pulls the straps off your bra as you reach behind you and unclip it clumsily. Dabi looks at you like he’s got stars in his eyes. He takes too long to travel the expanse of your neck, your collarbones. He takes his time before he reaches your chest, sucking marks into your breasts, and you moan as his hand reaches up and pinches your nipple.

“When’s the last time someone fucked you, huh? M’gonna ruin you for anyone else.” He breathes, tongue licking over your nipple.

“Dabi, please-“

“So pretty when you beg, baby. Be patient now.”

He doesn’t stop licking at your chest, mumbling about how pretty your tits look, as he uses a hand to undos the drawstrings on your scrubs. He holds your trousers away from your body and you gasp at the heat on your legs as he burns them off your body. He grins, all teeth and stretching staples.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. Not unless you ask for it.”

His fingers trail over the front of your underwear and your cheeks heat up, embarrassed at the wet patch on the front. He clicks his tongue, pressing down with two fingers and you keen at the pressure on your clit.

“All this for me? You been hiding this pretty pussy from me?” He hums.

You lean your head back and it thuds against the wall. Dabi slips his coat off and the t-shirt he’s wearing quickly. You let your eyes trail over his body, fingers dancing against the scar across his chest. He kisses you again, long and hard.

“Want you to cum on my fingers, okay? Can you do that for me?” He murmurs, free hand curving against your cheek.

“Yes, yes, please-“

Your voice hitches as he burns off your underwear. Without warning, he shoves a finger inside of you and your nails dig into his shoulder, a curse leaving your mouth at the sudden intrusion. His finger hits deeper than yours ever have and he barely gives you time to adjust before he shoves in another. You can hear it as he pumps his fingers in and out, can hear how wet you are for him. You move against the steady rhythm.

“Such a slut. Look at you, humping on my fucking fingers.” Dabi grins and you face flushes and you turn away. He tuts, grabbing your face in his hand and turning it back to look at him.

“No, you watch. Look at yourself dripping all over me.” He breathes, kissing the crook of your neck.

You moan as his thumb circles against your clit. He begins scissoring his fingers, stretching your walls. You let your hands run down his body, smoothing against the panes of his chest. He just watches you face as it twitches the further he pushes, you face scrunching in pleasure. You keen as he hits that soft spot deep inside you and he looks like he’s struck gold, suddenly moving with more fervour. He puts in another finger and you shake your head, breathing getting heavier.

“I’m close, Dabi.” You pant. It’s been an embarrassingly short time but you feel your toes curl as he presses into you again.

“Good girl, you gonna cum for me? Gonna squirt all over my fingers?”

You arch your back, chasing and running away from the sensations. “Dabi- please-”

He licks a stripe up your neck. “Beg me. Ask me if you can cum.”

“Please, Dabi, please I need- I need to cum, make me cum.”

“Fuck, come on. “ His thumbs speeds up on your clit and your back arches as his fingers pump into you faster. He whispers sweet words into your skin, dragging you through your orgasm. You breathe heavily, leaning against him as you come down from your high.

He pulls his fingers out and you watch with lidded eyes as he sucks them into his mouth, tongue curling around as he groans at the taste of you.

“Taste so good, baby. Now up. Let’s go.”

He pats the side of your leg, gesturing for you to jump. You rest your arms on his shoulders, head leaning against his. You do and watch as his biceps curl as he carries you effortlessly, hands gripping at your ass as he enters your kitchen. You eyebrows furrow and you tap his shoulder.

“Dabi, my bedrooms down the hall, what are you-”

“Can’t wait. Need you now.”

Before you can protest he drops you and bends you over your own counter. You grunt as your chest hits the cool surface. Your skin welcomes the cool sensation because you're covered in marks, purple and red and indents of his teeth littering your skin. Dabi’s hands smooth over your ass and you yelp as he slaps it. He uses his other hand to grab both of yours, easily circling both your wrists in one of his.

“Been dreaming of this ass, you know.” He starts unbuckling his belt. You try to turn around but he pushes you back. “Always walking around in those shorts. Such a fucking tease.”

And when he presses his against you, you can feel him. Long and hot and so impossibly hard on your back, and so big. You have no idea how the hell he’s going to fit inside of you. Dabi notices the way your thighs clench and you can’t see the smirk on his face but you can hear it when he moans into your ear. So filthy. He sounds like a pornstar.

“You feel that? It’s all for you, baby. You put that there.” Dabi grunted. “And I’m- Wait, shit.”

This time when you turn, Dabi lets you. He looks pissed and you’re momentarily distracted by the sight of him with his jeans and boxer slung below his hips.

“What? What’s wrong?” You ask.

“I was in such a fucking hurry to get here i forgot to bring a condom. Or condoms.” He frowns.

You relax. “Oh. It’s fine, I’m on birth control, you don’t need it.”

Dabi freezes slightly. “What?”

“I mean, I’m clean. If you are too, then yeah, you don’t need one.”

Dabi just stares. Breathing heavily still. You falter, thinking you said the wrong thing. “I mean, if you want one still I probably ha-”

He descends on you again. He kisses you desperately, both hands cupping your face as he presses you into him so you can feel him on your thigh. When he parts he pants for breath, turning you around once more, bending you back onto your stomach.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. Want me to fill you up, is that it?” He hisses as you grind back into his crotch. He delivers another slap to your ass, this time harder, hotter.

“Want me to fuck you until you’re dripping all over your own kitchen?” He laughs as you shudder, and you nod frantically. “Spread your legs for me. Wider, baby.”

You comply shakily. You arch your back. “Come on, Dabi.” “Patience, Y/N. Don’t worry, you’ll come on this cock.”

And he lines himself up at your entrance. Dipping himself between your folds and dragging the tip of his dick, wet with his pre-cum, up and down your slit, gathering your wetness and spreading it around his dick. He spits into his hand, uses it to wet his dick before he starts pushing into you. The stretch is delicious, and you grip the edge of the counter as he pushes into you slowly. He shudders, cursing low under his breath.

“Good girl, that’s it. God, you’re so, fuck, you’re so warm.” He grunts.

You whimper as he pushes himself fully inside you. You think if he was any bigger you’d see him in your stomach. He stills for a moment, lets you adjust to him. You can hear his restraint, hands so hot as they hold your arms back. He waits for a moment too long though, because you start wriggling, pushing your hips back.

“Please, Dabi, come on.”

His hands slide down your back to grip your hips. “What do you want? Tell me.”

“Want you. Fuck me, Dabi, please.” You whine.

It spurs him into action. He thrusts into you, deep enough that it pushes you against the counter. You moan loudly and he groans, hands leaving bruises in the dip of your hips as he fucks into you harder.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s a good girl. So fucking wet.” He sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re so perfect for me.”

You feel your cheeks heat at the compliment. His thrusts were constant and so deep you feel so full of him. Sweat drips down your back and your hair plasters to your forehead. Dabi presses kisses down your back, hands kneading your ass.

“That feel good?”

“Yes, yes, Dabi!” You cry out.

“Gonna fuck this pussy so good. Nobody will ever fuck you like I can fuck you, you hear me?”

He suddenly pulls out. Flips you around so that you’re facing him. You barely have time to think before he’s back inside you. Your hands curl around his neck and your face rests on his shoulder, mindlessly mumbling as he pounds into you. Dabi lets you lean against the counter so he can grab at your hair, pulling your head back.

“I wanna hear you, sweetheart. That bratty little mouth of yours.”

“S-Shut up.” You breathe, relishing in the feeling on him inside you.

“Been waiting so long for this. For you.”

His praise becomes breathier, his voice stuttering as he gets closer. His finger comes down to rub at your clit, eyes shining as you writhe. No matter how you move he’s there, rubbing maddening circles against you. You moan louder than you’d like, and Dabi leans back, impressed. Kisses your forehead.

“Want, shit, want you to come for me again. Yeah? Gonna come on my cock?” He leans down and nibbles at your ear, voice vibrating low in his chest.

“Yes, I’m close. I’m close.” You breathe, hands scratching red lines down his back.

“Good. Gonna fill you up. Fuck you full of my cum until you can’t walk.”

You nod, clenching down on him and he groans, low and long. “M’not gonna last if you keep tightening around me like that.”

He loses all composure, thrusting frantically as your chest moves up and down erratically. He kisses you, and you struggle to reciprocate with the tightening of your core. The rise in intensity has your eyes rolling in the back of your head, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you cum, and he curses and sings your name like a prayer as his fingers still work you. He thrusts once, twice and then he’s cumming and you’re thankful that his hands come up to hold your waist because you think you’re legs might give out.

The room is silent except for the two of you panting for breath. He rests his head on your shoulder, black locks tickling the side of your face. You reach hand up and you rub at his scalp and he sighs.

“God. Why did we do this in here? This is so unhygienic.” You huff.

Dabi just smiles lazily. Presses a kiss behind your ear and the side of your neck.

“You’re right. Let’s go shower. Together.”

“Fine.” You sigh like you don’t want to but you already feel heat pool into your gut.

“Good. Does this mean I can finally sleep in your bed?”

“Oh, shut up.”

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

guess u did fix him.. Dabi if ur reading this come home the kids miss u

idk I feel like Dabi wouldn’t be that rough in bed yk? Like I feel like his life is so violent he needs some break from it. Also this is my second ever smut BARE WITH ME if it’s bad

I’ve had the longesttt two weeks 😔 back to back uni and work so I will be having a break for a couple days, so enjoy this fic!!!

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