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kentopedia · 1 year ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ HOME COOKED MEAL — nanami kento

you bring itadori home for dinner & he gets to see a different side to kento

contents. aka you dig up some teenage photos of nanami, fem!reader, husband nanami, fluff, yuuji being your adopted son, i haven't watched the new ep (& i won't) but there is enough nanami angst so i am here to fix that — 1.7k

when you got ready to leave the school, your jacket on and bag tugged over your shoulder, you passed yuuji itadori in the halls, his expression suspiciously similar to a kicked puppy.

yuuji perked up a bit as you walked by, offering you a small smile and a wave. and though you considered heading on home for the night, eager to see your husband, you slowed, hesitant to leave the poor kid all alone.

“everything okay, yuuji?” you asked, frowning as he rested his elbows on his knees, studying a stain on the floor of the school.

“hm?” the teenager glanced up, eyes bright and wide. his sweet smile was back on his face, so innocent and kind. for someone who had been through so much already, he was more caring than many people that you’d met in your life. “oh, everything’s fine. everyone’s just out on missions, so i feel a little…” he pulled up one shoulder in a shrug. “useless.”

you knew it must have been hard for him, being a student that wasn’t quite like the others, having to train a little differently, adapt differently. but yuuji took it in stride, and he handled it better than any normal person would.

with a nod, you secured your bag around your other shoulder, shifting your feet. “it’s just going to be you here tonight, then?”

he hummed, sticking his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall. “i think so. some of the others might be around, but they’re resting up.”

“oh.” though you were certain yuuji had no qualms about spending an evening on his own, the thought of it made you feel like you were leaving a kitten out in the rain. almost pitiful.

yuuji waved before you could say another word, smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “have a good night! i’ll see you tomorrow.”

the car ride was spent listening to yuuji tell you story after story, the boy opening up to you in a way that he hadn’t quite related to any of the other sorcerers, even gojo.

you smiled to yourself, enjoying his stories as you wondered how to tell kento that you were bringing your student home for dinner.

there was still a bridge to cross between them, and though you knew they both liked the other more than they let on, kento hadn’t quite connected to the boy like he wanted to.

you hoped that by inviting him over, yuuji would see that kento, truly, wasn’t as intense as he let on. he was sweet, caring, and he did have a sense of humor… even if gojo didn’t really believe that.

you led yuuji into the house, and stopped him when you heard the sound of kento in the kitchen. his mission had ended earlier than yours, and he’d offered to cook tonight; there would be more than enough food for the three of you.

“i’ll be right back,” you said, tapping yuuji on the shoulder. “let me go tell kento you’re here.”

you’d considered letting your husband know before you arrived, but you hadn’t wanted him to protest. kento would try to make a fuss of having a guest over, even if it was only yuuji, and he certainly didn’t care about formalities.

your heart skipped when you reached kento, his back turned, finishing up the meal that was steaming on the stove. even just standing in the threshold of the kitchen, you were overwhelmed with all of your love for him.

but it didn’t take much… it never had. you’d always been sickeningly in love with nanami kento.

your footsteps were soft as you snuck up behind him. “kento,” you said, just above a whisper, snaking your arms around his waist. you kissed the muscles between his shoulder blades, listening to the steady thrum of blood pumping through his body.

“hi, sweetheart.” he’d heard you approach, and he turned, eyes softening when he glanced at you over his shoulder. “everything okay at the school?”

you nodded, squeezing him tighter. even though you’d seen him just a few hours prior, it felt like a long time—time apart when you were battling curses always dragged as you worried for each other’s safety. “did your mission go okay?” you asked.

he took your hands from around his waist, bringing them to his lips softly. “everything went fine. dinner’s almost ready so—” then, he noticed your guilty expression, one that you were clearly horrible at hiding. “is something wrong?”

you smiled innocently. “no! i just… brought a guest.”

kento’s eyebrows raised, his smiling falling quickly. “well, you could’ve told me before.” he sighed, shaking his head as he turned around to face you.

“sorry, i thought i’d surprise you.”

kento’s lips drew into a thinner line. “honey, please tell me gojo satoru is not in my house right now. he’s not welcome here anymore, because the last time he almost destroyed our fucki—” kento glanced up, his words falling away as he glanced over your shoulder. “itadori. hello. i didn’t realize you were there.”

you turned, releasing kento as yuuji gawked back at you. he’d caught in such a loving embrace with kento. yuuji’s normally stoic teacher was in the middle of swearing, blonde hair tumbling over his forehead. kento had replaced his suit with casual wear, and his contacts had been taken out. in place of them were wire-rimmed glasses.

“nanamin!” yuuji gasped. “you look so different.”

“yes, well, i apologize for my apperance.” kento sighed, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “i wasn’t aware we were having guests.”

“one guest. its just yuuji,” you said, poking him in the middle of the chest as his professional tone returned, so easily taking over. “i don’t think he cares what you’re wearing.”

“no, i don’t!” yuuji backtracked, eyes wide as he shuffled forward. “no, you look cool, you don’t look so…”

kento raised his eyebrows, amused, even if yuuji couldn’t detect the humor in his expression. “so what?”

the boy’s cheeks turned pink, embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “um—”

“you don’t look like you’ve got a stick up your ass.” you said, voicing yuuji’s obvious thoughts as you kissed kento on the cheek with a short laugh. of course, it was only to embarrass him further in front of his student.

kento feigned a scowl, but didn’t push you away, his gaze firmly planted on yuuji. “that’s because i try to keep my relationships at work strictly professional.”

“really?” yuuji grinned, stuffing his hands back in his pockets, his posture relaxing as he grew more comfortable in your home. “not very professional to marry someone you work with, is it?”

you laughed loudly, already caring so deeply for the boy that you’d known for such a short period of time.

“that was certainly an accident,” kento muttered, but his fingers lingered on your spine, tracing each of the bones. “i’ll have you know we were not working together when we got together.”

“really?” yuuji’s curiosity spiked. “how long have you been together, then?”

you thought back to when you were teenagers, when kento had a haircut that he had since regretted, and smiled mischievously. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through old photos, back from when you were just kids, the images grainy and of much lower quality than the ones from your recent vacation.

“hey, don’t show him those!” kento protested. he reached for your phone, but you scrambled under his arm, stretching your hand out to give yuuji the device. “itadori, don’t—” kento’s voice held a hint of panic, his cheeks hot with embarrassment as he grabbed you around the waist, trying to stop you from giving yuuji the phone.

but it was already in yuuji’s hands, and you laughed loudly, knowing that while you looked a little more awkward than you did now, your appearance had changed near as drastically as kento’s.

yuuji squinted his eyes at a sixteen year old nanami, blond hair long enough to reach his eyes, dressed in an all black ensemble, an earbud in one ear. kento was hardly smiling, but you beamed next to him in the photo, dressed more childishly than you were now, but just as pretty. the image from when you still fumbled around each other, unsure how to admit that you were both in love.

a roar of laughter left yuuji as kento’s expression fell, and he released you, snapping the phone out of itadori’s palm. “that’s you, nanamin? no way. how did you…” yuuji glanced between you, squinting his eyes. “well, i guess looking at you now it makes sense.”

“i know,” you agreed, covering your smiles with your palms. “we looked a little silly together back then. i saw the potential in him, but satoru certainly loved to make fun of us, didn’t he, ken?”

“i have absolutely no desire to relive those days.”

yuuji laughed. “you were just like fushiguro, i bet!”

“scarily similar,” you agreed, as kento rolled his eyes beside you, putting your phone in his pocket to keep you from scavenging any older photos to share with the kid. “and he still loves to listen to—”

“don’t finish that sentence or i’ll save this dinner all for myself.”

yuuji eyes flew up to his hairline, but you just snorted, knowing that kento’s threats were about as scary as a puppy.

“he’s still sensitive about it,” you whispered to yuuji. “gojo and his friends made fun of him all the time.”

“oh really. just me?” kento retorted under his breath.

“you must have been pretty popular, then!” yuuji grinned. “if you were friends with gojo. he said all the girls in school loved him!”

kento made an irritated sound, stirring the spoon roughly against the pot. “well, satoru is the last person you should listen to. he has an ego bigger than the sun. and my wife is leading you astray. she was not similar to satoru, she was painfully shy, and it took weeks for either of us to talk to each other.” kento took the pan off the stove, peering over his shoulder at you. “and she is very lucky i love her too much to dig up any embarrassing stories of her.”

“well, stories about me aren’t that interesting anyway.” you laughed, pointedly turning your back to kento. “yuuji, the good news is, i’ve got some more photos in kento in the old photo books. let’s go see them!”

#i hope this shows up in the tags bc i’ve been fighting with tumblr ugh #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#xoxo rylie 💌 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

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darknight3904 · 1 year ago

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It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊ��ꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

Series Masterlist

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s0dium · 5 months ago

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Needier

A/n: Thanks for all the support. It is not necessary to read pt.1 to read this <3

Word Count: 3.6k

Pt.1

Warnings: Pervert Yuuta, panty sniffing, pining, male masturbation, pre mature ejaculation, edging, pussy eating, thigh humping, mentions of breeding, slight dubcon, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk

Yuuta Okkatsu would like to say that he is a patient man.

In fact he would even pride himself on this quality, that no matter how thin his restrain was stretched, no matter how much he was tested, out in the open, Yuuta Okkatsu remained composed

Of course, you wouldn’t know that. No, you certainly have no idea what a patient man Yuuta has been. Been for you. You have no idea that since that day, simply being near you is the ultimate test of his restraint. That every accidental touch sent a surge of electricity through his veins, coursing hot blood straight to his dick, and a swarm of most unholy thoughts on what he'd fucking do to you. You certainly haven't the faintest clue that beneath his calm smile, dark tired eyes, and casual conversation, his mind explores your body, fucks you until your creaming all over him, and makes you swallow every last drop of cum he'd fuck into your cute mouth.

There are times when he treads a line though. Subtly, almost imperceptibly, Yuuta finds excuses to be near you, to catch the faint scent of your shampoo or the unique fragrance that seems to encapsulate your essence. One time, he found himself in the dorm's laundry room, where your belongings were left slightly askew, a common sight among the hustle of Jujutsu student life. Among the disarray, a piece of your laundry accidentally catches his eye—pink underwear and a beige bra. His heart races with a mix of guilt and absolute longing as picks up the fabric and he buries his nose into the cloth, desperately breathing in your smell.

"F-fuck" Yuuta groans upon breathing your scent. How could you smell so fucking sweet? Damn it, his dick is already getting hard. But almost as quickly as he picked it up he puts your underwear down, chastising himself for the lewdness of his actions, the vulgarity.

Yes, Yuuta has resolved to bide his time. He will wait for the perfect moment, a serene pause in the rush of daily life, it is then when he will confess his feelings to you. It is then he won't have to be patient anymore.

His restraint always wavered at nightfall though. This night was no exception. Throughout the day, glimpses of you in your gym shorts and tank top haunted him, aroused him, etching a vivid image that refused to fade with the setting sun.

As he retreated to his room, the weight of the day's impressions bore down on him. The moment the door clicked shut, a sigh escaped his lips as he pulled out his dick and languidly fisted his length. Pre-cum was already dribbled on his pretty pink tip but he used the milky liquid to guide his hand up and down in fast fluid motions.

"Please, f-fuck please y/n" He whined, stumbling over to his bed where he could pull out the polaroid you took of him and yourself together. What would you think if you knew he had fucked himself almost every night to this seemingly wholesome selfie you took? Through heavy eyelids he gazes upon your face, the motion of his hand speeding up as the thoughts of you intensified. He wants to feel you so bad, be inside you, feel your walls squeeze around him struggling to take him in. How would your moans sound? How would your boobs feel like in his large palms, would you let him eat you out? Oh what a dream that would be, Yuuta doesn't think he'd stop licking your cunt if he ever got your chance. Yes, he'd make you feel so good, you'd make him feel so good, so much better than his fist, he's so close to cummin-

*ping*

Amidst the pleasure, Yuuta feels the vibration of his phone on his bed. He doesn't want to look not now, not now when he's so close, but his eyes accidentally wander to the screen, widening when they see the message is from you.

Blinking back the pleasure, Yuuta stops his ministrations, wipes his dominant hand on a piece of tissue, and grabs his phone. The screen lights up, and a jolt of surprise sends his heart plummeting when he sees your name. The message is simple,

"Wanna come over for a movie night in ten?"

His response is almost immediate.

"Yeah sure."

Yuuta's fingers tremble as he sends the message. Is this it? Is this the chance he has been waiting for? Hastily, he cleans his hands with a towel, discarding his current attire for something more casual. Stifling a soft groan, he tucks his half-hard dick into his sweatpants under his boxer's waistband. Then he replaces his white uniform coat with a graphic t-shirt, a more relaxed and inviting look

Checking his appearance in the mirror, he runs a hand through his black hair. He's always wondered how you perceived him. Did you find him as attractive like he did to you? Finally, unable to wait any longer, he exits his room. The short walk to your door feels like an eternity, each step heavy with a mix of nerves and excitement. He arrives, takes a deep breath to steady himself, and knocks softly.

Yuuta's breath almost catches in his throat when you open the door and his eyes fall upon your body and what you are wearing. You stand behind the door, bathed in the dim soft light of your bedroom, wearing a simple white tank top that Yuuta thinks is almost ethereal against your skin. One strap hangs loosely, teasingly off your shoulder, revealing the gentle curve of your collarbone and the subtle hint of your breast's outline. The fabric, light and airy, falls just short enough to offer a glimpse of your cute stomach and your black shorts that cling to your curves, sculpting the fat of your ass and the contours of your hips.

Is this what an angel look like Yuuta wonders?

"Yuu, hello Yuu, are you listening?" you wave your hand gently in front of his dazed eyes, trying to snap him back to the present.

"Oh yeah," Yuuta chuckles softly, "sorry just a little tired."

"Well you dont have to stand there come in!" you say through a smile, opening the door and stepping aside so Yuuta can come into your room.

As Yuuta steps over the threshold, a wave of your room's scent envelops him—the subtle blend of lavender and vanilla that he's caught hints of whenever you've been close, but never this intense. The scent sits on his tongue making Yuuta's head grow fuzzy. It's inviting, sweet, and intimate, filling the space with a warmth that makes the room seem cozier than its plain decor suggests.

Your room is tidy, with a soft pink rug adding a splash of color against the otherwise neutral tones. Your laptop is open on the bed, surrounded by a few scattered notes and pens. You sit down on the edge of the mattress, the bed shifting slightly under your weight, and pat the spot next to you, a silent invitation for him to join.

He takes a moment, thickly swallowing before moving towards you and taking the offered seat. The bed dips under his weight, bringing him slightly closer.

"So," you start, your voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room, "wanna watch the new haikyuu movie? Ive been dying to see it'"

"S-sure" Yuuta manages to nod, his voice catching on the single syllable as he tries to focus on what you're saying rather than how close you are. He doesn't think he's ever been this close to you, your bodies are practically touching. He can see your facial expressions up close, and catch things he's never noticed before; like the twitch of your eyebrow or how you lick your lips when you focus on something

The movie begins with its vibrant opening scenes, characters leaping across the screen in intense volleyball matches, but you couldn't even ask Yuuta the names of the characters. It seems to be about some guys getting their panties in a twist over volleyball ball. He doesn’t know and frankly, he doesn’t care. He's too acutely aware of your presence just inches away, the warmth of your shoulder brushing against his every so often. How if he really tried, he could lean in and see down your shirt.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts, and steals a glance at you. God you are beautiful. He wants to say something, to make some comment about the movie to show he's paying attention, but words fail him. Instead, he just shifts slightly, moving a fraction of an inch closer to you under the pretense of getting a better view of the screen.

Something important must've happened because suddenly, you grab his thigh in reaction to a particularly intense scene in the movie. The sudden touch sends an electric jolt through him, and his dick jumps with excitement. Yuuta has to bite his lip to stifle a groan just from your touch. His face flushes a deep red, and he turns to look at you, catching your excited expression as you watch the screen. Of course you have no idea what you are doing to him.

Yuuta tries to refocus on the movie, but it's a futile effort. The warmth of your hand seeps through his clothing, igniting a fire that makes his dick strain against his waistband. His mind races with thoughts of turning to you, of closing the distance between you with a kiss that he's been fantasizing about. Is this it? Is this the moment he has been waiting for? Yuuta swallows hard, his mouth dry, his thoughts swirling with the possibilities of what could happen if he just leaned in and fucking kissed you.

Now, now now.

Yes, Yuuta is a patient man, until he isn't.

Without another moment's hesitation, Yuuta acts on the impulse that has been building within him. His hand, shaky with anticipation and nerves, reaches out to gently grasp your chin, turning your face towards him. The sudden contact startles you, pulling your attention away from the screen to his intense, longing gaze.

"Yuu- what?" You say softly but he doesn't respond. Instead, as if driven by a force beyond his control, Yuuta leans in and his lips meet yours in a kiss that is both tentative and desperate. It's, needy, messy, and hungry, his lips devouring yours with all the pent-up yearning and silent adorations he's harbored, a kiss that speaks to how god damn patient he's been.

Your initial shock gives way to the unfolding reality of the moment. The warmth of his lips against yours sends a surge of emotion through you, mingling surprise with an escalating thrill. He didn't know it, but you have been patient too.

Yuuta's heart races as he senses your hesitation melting away. This can't be real, you are actually kissing him back. Your lips are so soft against his, Yuuta is damn near having an out-of-body experience from how sweet you taste. His fingers slide into your hair, deepening the kiss with a gentle assertiveness, as if afraid you might pull away. But you don't. Instead, you lean into him, parting your lips to let his tongue slide in and entangle with yours. Your own hands find their way to his broad shoulders, gripping them for balance and perhaps, in a way, for anchorage amidst his desperation.

As your lips part, you both are left breathless, a string of saliva connecting your panting mouths. You feel warmth blossom in your stomach when you meet Yuuta's gaze. He looks entirely bothered, pupils blown and dark black hair tousled from your roaming hands.

"More, please" Yuuta barely whispers before meeting his lips with yours again. This time he's bolder, one of his hands snaking under your white top to cup your boobs. "Oh fu-" He groans into your mouth, feeling the fat of your breasts fill in the gaps of his fingers as he squeezes and presses on the squishy skin.

Suddenly, Yuuta moves, his body positioning over yours in a fluid, careful motion and so his groin is on top of your thigh. For a moment your too absorbed in his messy kiss that you almost miss how he starts to grind his dick against your thigh.

"Ngh so good," Yuuta moans into your mouth, dragging his clothed crotch up and down your lower thigh, full on humping it. He knows he should stop, that he shouldn't be acting like some pervert, but Yuuta's brain is so fuzzy, so lost in the realization that you reciprocate his feelings and that this is actually happening, that he can't bring himself to do anything besides hump your leg like a he's in heat.

"Yuu, please...." You whine amongst his incessant kisses. You can feel a wet spot start to form on his sweatpants and you moan at the feeling of being used like a sex toy.

Yuuta wants to say something, something about how good he's feeling, something about the buzzing in his head and the warmth spreading through out his body. But he can't. Everything feels too good right now, too heavenly he can't even open his eyes or ignore the colors dancing across his eyelids. Your tongue feels so good against his, and your lips are so soft, he can't help but rut against your soft skin faster and harder, he can't stop himself from climbing high and higher into a euphoric bliss.

Then, it hits him. With a choked whine into your ear, Yuuta cums into his pants, leaving your thigh wet and sticky.

"Oh god baby I'm so sorry," he babbles, choking on each syllable from the aftershocks of his orgasm. Shit shit shit. How could be fuck up the opportunity so badly? Surly you were going to be disgusted by him, any moment now you were going to ask him to leave.

Reluctantly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, taken aback by what he sees. You're panting, cheeks flushed, lips glossy from his kisses, and your eyelids heavy with arousal.

"No no, It's okay, Yuu" you murmur, petting the back of his black hair, "I mean, we can stop if you want-"

"No!" Yuuta cuts you off. "Please, I... I want this. Wanna fuck you so badly baby please." He whines into your neck, peppering kisses on your soft skin.

And how could you stay no?

You nod and Yuutas eyes light up. Immediately he’s pulling down your pants and underwear, eyes widening at the sight of your cunt. If you wanted, Yuuta thinks he could cum again just from looking at you. Your first instinct is to close your legs, to shield yourself from being so exposed from Yuuta's intense gaze. However, two strong hands firmly grasp the underside of your thighs and press them towards you, effectively folding you in half and spreading you wide open.

"Yuu..." You whine, but your protests fall upon deaf ears. Right now Yuuta is in a whole other world. Right now, in this moment, Yuuta thinks he must have died and gone to fucking heaven. His tongue darts out to wet his lips because oh god he is practically drooling right now at the sight of you. He knew you where beautiful but Jesus christ. He releases one of your thighs to spread your wet folds with his pointer and thumb, pupils dilating at the sight of your tight hole clenching around nothing.

"Yuu pl~"

Yuuta doesn't let you finish the sentence because he is already on you, his eager hot mouth enveloping your twitching clit, licking and sucking. His tongue flattens, softly lapping at your sensitive pearl before swirling it around, fast and gentle enough to have you whining.

“Oh god yuuta m’ gonna c-cum”

Your voice has him moaning into your cunt and aggressively rutting his hips into the bed for relief. At this rate he was going to cum before you again, and that couldn't happen, no he needed to be inside you first.

Yuuta immediately relinquishes his ministrations on your pussy with a loud ’pop’ making you whine at the loss of your release that was so close.

“Not now baby ok?" He says through a groan. "Wanna feel you first, been dreaming about."

Yuuta's pulling down his sweatpants now, and you watch with wide eyes as his long length springs out. You don't know what you expected but you didn't expect him to be so big. Pre-cum dribbles down his pink tip and along the length of his member.

"Yuu, I dont think- I think its gonna hu-" You choke out but your words fall upon deaf ears. He's already aligning himself with your hole, and you jerk at the pressure of his tip against you.

"Slow, slowly please." You whisper and Yuuta wants to listen to you, he really does, but every cell in his brain is screaming at him to do the opposite. Yuuta stills against you, and for a moment you think he's going to say something, even acknowledge your words.

"M'sorry baby." He murmurs into your ear before bullying his length all the way inside of you. The world spins and for a second Yuuta's mind goes completely blank, he doesn't even hear the moan that's been ripped from your throat. All the nights he's fantasized about this moment, the hours he spent jacking off and touching himself, everything, all disappeared the moment he slipped inside you. You felt good? Try euphoric. Yuuta wasn't even thinking thoughts he was seeing colors. How could he ever think his fist could compare to you? The way your walls sucked in and hugged him, so wet and warm, god, no amount of fantasizing could've compared to the real thing.

“Y-you gotta l-loosen up baby or im gonna ah~”

It was all too much, he had just slipped in you, and yet and he was down for the count. Everything was too good too fast, he couldn't stop the high that was approaching even if he wanted to.

"fuckfuckfuck baby pl-" Its too late. Thick ropes of cum spill inside you, there's so much of it it's escaping from the sides of his dick and dripping out your hole.

You whine at the warm feeling blossoming in your stomach, and before you can even get a word in, Yuuta reels his hips back and slams into you.

“No not gonna stop,” He said through gritted teeth and your eyes widen when you feel his already hard again dick continue to push into you.

Your toes curl at the sensation of Yuuta's dick pressing against your cervix. The friction and the stretch of his member has your mouth falling open and your tongue panting out. In a great display of strength, he pulls both of your legs over his shoulders and grabs your hands to pin them down with his. The new position has his dick reaching spots you could only dream about hitting with your fingers, and as his thrusts speed up, you desperately hold onto Yuuta hands with yours.

"So good yuu!" You wail as he presses kisses along your neck, his hips not so much as stuttering as they thrust in and out of you like he is in heat.

“So good baby you feel so good wanna fuck you every day, never stop fucking you." He feverishly groans into your skin. Every time he thrusts into you, his hips reel back so his length leaves you almost empty, only to ram back into you again to keep you full and dumb on his dick.

Unable to handle the sensation, your back arches and your heels dig into the muscles of his back. Yuuta doesn’t let up his pace, in fact, he increases it, pounding your cunt like he will never get a chance again. He wants to make you shake, make you moan and whine with pleasure, and fill your brain with only thoughts of him until you're begging him to fuck you more and more. His mind is foggy, everything just feels and looks so good, he’s not even thinking when he lets go of one of your hands and shoves his two fingers in your mouth, digits pressing down on your tongue and swirling around in the spit.

“Your gonna let me use you when ever I want right? Gonna be good for me right?"

You nod repeatedly, sucking on fingers like candy.

"Gotta lot of time to make up for, for teasing me so long"

You can tell he's close because his words start to end in curses, and his breath his getting ragged and faster. Luckily for him, you're close too. The pleasure building in your core is starting to become unbearable, and the muscles in your leg where becoming weary from how long they have been tightened.

"Please cum on me baby," Yuuta begs into your ear, punctuating his words with sharp fast thrusts.

Fap,Fap,Fap

The sound of his skin against you filled your ears and almost as soon as Yuuta asks, your hurled toward the best orgasm you have ever experienced. You felt like your mind was exploding, like electric white hot arrows of pleasure coursed through your vains. You could feel your body shakes from the euphoria, and Yuuta watches you with blown pupils as you cum on his dick.

"S-so pretty when you cum, your so pretty to cu-" Yuuta is quick to follow, and with a whine his body tenses up and his back arches like a bow. As he blows his load, you feel his warmth soak your battered pussy and his hot breath panting against your ear. Yuuta almost feels drunk right now from how intense the pleasure is and his mouth partly falls open as his orgasm washes over him. Even as his dick starts to soften, he still ruts himself into you, riding the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"So good baby so so good." He murmurs into your ear.

Yuuta is so glad he doesn't need to be patient anymore.

Tags: @saintani @strxwberryfetish @memi-sempai @thejujvtsupost @shuuji71 @yutaokkotsuluver @nyxypoo @kaiyanaarichi @procyonnn @fdeegbffi @isagistar @lei-athara @paper--angel @mayiw @badbclub @anathemaspeaks @atinymonbebestay @korebringerofded @lea-is-lame @leviswifey-act62 @hyperfixationer @soraokkotsu

#jjk smut #yuuta smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #yuuta okkotsu #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #yuuta x you

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dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago

Text

dig your claws right into me ♡

logan howlett x fem!reader

logan hurts you when he has a nightmare. now you both have to deal with the fallout.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, descriptions of nightmare, injury, and blood

a/n: reader is a mutant but i didn't specify her powers so you can imagine what you want. just some sickly sweet intimacy cause that's what i was feeling tonight <3

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The words come out whispered as Logan's lips press against the three tiny bumps of developing scar tissue on your abdomen.

"I already told you that you don't have to be sorry," you say. Your voice drifts into the space between the two of you as soft as the movements of your fingers running through his hair.

"Well I am, bub. You should want me to be."

Each one of his hands rests upon either side of your waist. His fingers squish against your flesh while his eyes stare at the scars on your belly. He gazes at them like the small marks, all equidistant from one another, could be willed away by his harsh look. He hated the fact that they were there at all. Even worse, that he was the one who gave them to you.

"But it was an accident," you respond, giving one of the tufts of his hair a gentle tug.

His dark pupils flit up to look at your face. "Doesn't matter. It being an accident doesn't change the fact that you're gonna have these marks forever. I wouldn't care that it was accidental if I'd killed you."

He remembers the night it happened that seemed like a real possibility.

His light sleep had been interrupted by a nightmare. Over the time that had passed between then and now, it'd become indistinct from all the others he experiences regularly. The only difference between that one and the ones he'd had since he'd started sleeping next to you each night was the intensity. That night had been rough. Normally when he slept in your room, he seemed to be able to tone it down. Almost as if his brain knew to not act up while your relationship was still starting to blossom.

But two weeks ago, his mind didn't care. It flash-banged him with the usual images of himself in that tank. The searing, splitting pain of the adamantium attaching itself to his bones.

Usually, if he had a nightmare beside you, he'd grunt and twitch, maybe shift around a little. That night though, you got to see the whole performance. The tossing and turning, sweating and moaning, tense limbs and scrunched up face.

Poor, sweet, innocent you thought that you could just wake him up. Your hands nudged at his bicep and shoulder as you gently cooed "Logan. It's just a dream."

In the end, your tenderness didn't matter. When he actually came to, your anguished cry was all that registered. And then he felt the sharp heat between his knuckles that meant the claws were out. His heart dropped and his vision nearly blacked out. He couldn't have.

He retracted them as quickly as they'd appeared and pulled back to look at you. Crimson flooded the gray t-shirt you'd worn to bed. The three little spots spread into large blooms of scarlet. Your hands flew to the spot to clutch at it, but they did nothing to stop the warm liquid from spilling out.

"No, no, no, fuck," he'd whispered frantically as his mind raced for a solution.

Your cries morphed into whimpers. Soft and vulnerable. Like a prey animal that'd been fatally wounded but not put out of its misery. Blood seeped out onto your bedding, and it was then that he rocketed off the mattress and scooped you up into his arms.

Fortunately, Scott, Jean, and Storm were already outside the door in the hall, having heard the scream. A gathering of students lingered behind them as well. Shame coursed through his veins, albeit dulled by the panic. He remembered thinking it was stupid, but after the adrenaline left his system, it was the dominant emotion he was left with. Ashamed was the only word that could describe holding the knowledge that everyone here now saw he was capable of hurting the woman he loves. Maybe he was no better than an animal.

In truth, shame was all he felt now. So much relief settled over him since you'd made it out alive. Thanks to the enhanced physical capabilities from your mutation and Jean's adequate medical skills, these scars would be the only lasting effect of the wounds.

He'd rushed you down to the infirmary faster than he'd ever moved in a non-combat situation. His feet thundered down the stairs, a part of him withering to ash with each little whimper you let out as the motion jostled your body around.

"I'm sorry, bub. Almost there. We're almost there. You're gonna be ok," he'd mumbled out thoughtlessly, saying anything he could that would bring you even a shred of comfort.

He kept your hand in his the entire time you were down there on the cold examination table. His grip stayed firm. He wouldn't let the anxiety over your well being consume him. This was his fault, and now you needed him. He didn't get to be worried or upset or anything that wasn't in support of you.

When you howled in pain, he winced as if he was the one being treated. You cried for him, choking out "Logan" through tears over and over. It tore him apart inside. All he could do to soothe you was stroke your cheek and murmur reassurances in your ear.

"Shh, shh, shh. You're doing so good, baby. My strong girl. Being so brave."

He usually reserved affection for private moments, but in those painful seconds, it felt like you two were the only ones in the room.

These thoughts running through his head display across his face. The way his cheek squishes against your tummy and his eyes vacantly stare at the wall opposite his bed. You told him the next day that everything transformed into a blur in your mind. You remembered the feeling of being stabbed and the sight of him panicking, but beyond that nothing specific stayed. You knew he held you and talked to you even though you couldn't recall an individual thing he said or did.

That was fine with him. He listened to you tell the story from your perspective. You spoke with your normal cadence, the usual happy glow in your eyes, and the same animated gestures coming from your hands. His eyes lingered on your torso though. The bandages peeking out from underneath your clean camisole he'd changed you into.

Every last detail of the incident was etched into the deepest part of his psyche. Most likely stored away as material for future nightmares. As much as he hated it, he figured that's the way it should be. He didn't deserve the peace that comes with forgetting.

For the first week after it'd happened, he wouldn't sleep with you. He'd stay with you, cuddled against your body, until you drifted off. Then he'd get up and skulk back to his own room, leaving you cold and alone on your bed.

Eventually after a few more days, you got him to try it out again, but he'd only do it in his own room. It was hard for him to be in yours. New sheets covered your foamy mattress now since the blood wouldn't wash out of the old set. Each brush of the novel material against his skin was just a rose-printed reminder of what he'd done to you.

He's snapped out of his recollection when your voice returns to the original conversation.

"None of that stuff happened though. You didn't kill me, and you're not going to. I'll be more careful next time," you break the silence with a gentle reassurance.

Next time. That's what hurts the worst. You knew this would happen again. You'd promised that when it did you wouldn't try to wake him. Wouldn't touch him or do anything that could set him off. Just give him his space and let him work through it.

"I don't even want you worrying about being careful when you're trying to sleep," he grumbles.

Your nails scrape over his scalp, making his eyes flutter. A deep sigh leaves him. As much as he hated himself for all of this, he could never help easing up under your touch.

"You're worth it."

Three words you said so often. He never believed them, but that didn't stop you from repeating them like a slogan. Instead of arguing with you over the validity of the statement, he stays silent. Replaces any verbal response with a physical one by nuzzling into the warmth of your stomach and laying kisses around your navel.

You watch the affectionate gesture and trail your fingers down to the nape of his neck, massaging the tender skin there.

"You are," you whisper, "One mistake doesn't define you. Doesn't change how I see you."

"It's not just a simple mistake-" he starts.

"Yes it is," you interject, trying to nip his self doubt in the bud.

"It's not. It's not like I forgot your birthday or left my wallet behind when taking you out."

"It's still an accident. The severity doesn't change the intention. Would you hate me if my powers acted up and hurt you?"

God, you could be just as stubborn as him. It grated on his already frayed nerves. He shifts to look up at you fully. And some of that building tension dissolves upon seeing the earnest look on your face.

"It's not the same. Anything you did to me, I would heal," he says.

"I'm healing too. I'm just not as fast as you," you respond. You actually smile as if this is some lighthearted matter. Of course you knew it wasn't the same. You presented no danger to him whereas if he'd nicked you an inch to the left, he might be talking to your headstone right now instead of you. That wasn't the point though.

He shakes his head. "It's different, bub. But I'm not even saying you should hate me..."

In truth, he didn't know what he was saying. If he wanted you to hate him or stay away from him, he could be the one to break things off. But he was still right here, arms wrapped around you and head hovering inches away from your body.

"I just think you should be more cautious than you're being," he finishes, "I don't want you to think you have to put up with this."

You frown and pet his hair. "I don't think that."

"I'm not trying to lecture you, baby," he sighs, "I just don't want to hurt you again."

He could certainly flaunt a pair of puppy eyes when he wanted to. The way he was looking up at you now made him seem so sad and wounded. Like a dog who can't control when he bites but gets kicked aside for it all the same.

"You're not going to. We'll be careful. It was an accident," you say, tone almost pleading, "You're still my Logan."

To go along with your words, you pull on one of his arms, beckoning him closer. He complies with your request and scales your body so that the two of you are aligned. You stare up into his eyes and the whirlpools of emotion within them. Your hand lands on his cheek, your thumb stroking back and forth in small swipes.

"I'm not gonna let you pull away cause of this," you whisper, "It wasn't your fault. You don't choose to have those dreams."

You can tell he wants to argue, but he struggles to find the words. Indirectly cutting him off, you guide his head closer to yours. His face slots against the crook of your neck, and yours does the same in his. You nuzzle him there, breathing in the rich, musky scent of him.

"You're not wrong for wanting to be happy. You don't deserve to be alone," you say and kiss below his ear.

The words make him ache from within. His metal bones vibrate with the weight of possibility of that being true while his heartbeat feels as though it stutters between his ribs. He wants to huff and say that he knows, that he doesn't need you psychoanalyzing him, thank you very much. But none of that will come out. So instead he chuckles. He tries to make it sound smooth; although, the awkwardness is apparent in each bit.

He pulls back a little and smirks down at you. "So you think I'm cut out for being gentle? Is that it?"

You know what he's doing. As closed off as he tries to be, you don't need telepathy to sense what he's feeling. You let him play it off with a joke though. If he's joking, he's not drowning in self-pity, which is all you want.

"Mhm, I know you are," you say and nose at his cheek, kissing the spot on it without facial hair, "You may have claws, but you purr like a kitten when I have my hands on you."

His eyes roll when you say that. He leans down and begins to return some of your loving gestures.

"Don't go telling people that. It's only for you," he murmurs.

"Of course, of course," you say with the same subtle playfulness.

Words die out in favor of using your mouths for better things. The kisses are lazy, built more off of love and adoration rather than lust and passion. One of your arms loops over his shoulders to keep him close while your other rubs at his side. The tip of his nose brushes your earlobe as he lowers to kiss down your throat.

His lips meet your pulse point and the divots in your neck that make you shudder when touched. He's familiar with all your secret spots by now. He plays you better than any instrument. His breath fans over your skin as his teeth scrape against the same flesh. His hands work below, squeezing your waist, fingertips leaving little bumps in their wake.

The hand of yours that had been on his side drifts further down and wiggles its way between your two bodies. Your digits stroke his pelvis above the area his cock would soon begin to harden.

A groan reverberates through his chest as his shaft rises to attention. From this angle, the pads of your fingers can reach the tip. You rub on it with light pressure, up and down. That gets him to repeat the groan, only this time the undertone of need is more prominent.

His lips latch onto your neck to work a little mark onto your skin while he pushes the waistband of his sweatpants down his thighs. You were only wearing a cropped t-shirt and panties, already easily accessible.

He nudges your thighs apart further and grinds his bulge over your mound. The heat from both your aching centers grows hotter with the friction. Arching your back off the bed, you whimper softly for further satisfaction. He presses you back down using his larger stature.

"Patience, sweetheart. Being gentle, remember?"

He only teases you with a few more grinds of his hips before his boxers vanish too and his heavy cock rests against the soft fabric of your panties. You feel the familiar thickness at first. Then his fingers swoop down and pull your panties to the side so he can slot the drippy tip against your folds. Precum smears against your slick, velvety skin.

Seconds later he splits you open. He bites his lip while you whine, his fat cock pushing further into your wanting hole. You squeeze around him. Your walls clamp and contract on his length. It doesn't push him out, merely sucks him further in. He chokes out a low moan from how tight you get.

So tight and so wet. Arousal oozes from you in no short supply. It didn't take much to get you going for Logan. A few touches alone had you leaking like a broken faucet. You whimper as he bottoms out, hips jerking as the head taps your cervix. He always gets so deep it's nearly unbearable. Even when he's going slow like he is now, he's all you can think of. He fills you up down there and occupies all the space in your head.

"Feel good, baby?" he asks.

You nod, unable to respond verbally as you adjust to the intrusion.

He doesn't give you a prolonged period of time to adapt right now. Normally he would, but most other times, he'd be going much faster than he plans to at this moment. Typically, he'd let you get comfy with the stretch before drawing his hips back and then pumping them forward again. He'd slam in and out of you. It'd be loud with the sound of skin clapping combined with your moans and his growls. It'd be rough and quick. The bed would shake and bobble around with the force of him.

But tonight, none of that happens. He barely even pulls out to thrust. He stays nice and deep, grinding his hips rather than fucking himself in and out of you. You whine in sweet stretches of sound. He sighs and grunts against your neck. Neither of you sound like feral animals going into heat.

You loved when you fucked like that, but right now, both of you needed this. Each roll of his hips felt like a stroke of heaven brushing your insides. Your limbs curl around him tighter to keep him close. Your arms guard his neck while your legs dig into his hips. He's so lost in the feeling of you, he can't even tell where he ends and you begin.

"Tell me how it feels. Need to hear you. Wanna know I'm doing it how you need," he mumbles.

"Feels perfect," you whimper in return, "So fuckin' deep."

"Good. I only ever wanna make you feel good."

You nod, knowing it's the truth. "Anyone can hurt me, but only you know how to make me feel like this."

His eyes scrunch up at your words. He just feels lucky he has his face buried against your skin so you can't see. It had been just what he needed to hear. Boosting himself onto his knees a bit more to gain some leverage, he grips your hips and ruts against you with the slightest bit more force.

You whine at the soothing rhythm in which your bodies rock. The sense of satisfaction brought on from this took root in the deepest pit of your belly. You weren't gonna explode like you often did. Probably wouldn't scream or scratch up his back. But you could tell you were gonna cum hard.

Without saying it, he communicates he feels the same. His lack of usual dirty talk tells you everything you need to know. His cock stays nestled deep inside your pussy as he works you both to the edge. His face remains flush against your neck.

You cum first, and he follows right behind. You tighten up, toes curling and a high mewl echoing out of your throat. Your body shivers. He spills his release inside of you, his energy leaving with the sticky ropes of cum that fire.

He goes boneless on top of you, still cherishing the feeling of your skin on his. His breaths feel cool against your sweating skin.

"My baby," he sighs. His eyes flutter shut. He knows he has to pull out before he knocks out for a while, but he can do that in a second. He just needs a few more minutes of this.

You press a few kisses to the side of his head and rub his back. His hand slides between both your abdomen to touch the scars, reminding himself what he's capable of despite his current tenderness.

After a few moments, he pulls out and slumps to the side of you. You peck his lips and take the acquisition of space as a way to cool off. His eyes are drooping already. It feels good seeing him so relaxed. You kiss the space between his brows, then the bridge of his knows, and end on his lips.

"Sweet dreams," you whisper, wishing that would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay. At least for tonight.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine imagine #wolverine smut #x men x reader #marvel x reader #marvel smut

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loveindefinitely · 10 months ago

Text

task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.

-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)

thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.

one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.

cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.

he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.

"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.

you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."

his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."

you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.

johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.

three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.

manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.

"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.

you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."

a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"

you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."

the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.

"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.

"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.

"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.

"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"

it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.

johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.

"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.

johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.

"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.

"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"

you shudder.

"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.

he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.

"forty-three."

your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.

all you can manage is one question.

"take me home?"

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artdcnaldson · 5 months ago

Note

NEED art and patrick to find out I'm a virgin and offer to teach me how to kiss and how to fuck and use eachother as examples and guide me and tell me I'm doing a good job and reward me for being such a good student and come back later and quiz me to see if I remember everything they taught me ugh obsessed with them individually and as a unit

This has lived rent free in my mind for literally forever. I can’t stop thinking about it, it haunts my every waking moment.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Making out, Handjob lessons, guys being pervs, not a love triangle they just all want to fuck each other

A/N: unedited bc I wrote this while on the clock okay whatever. Enjoyyyy and if u want me to continue this lmk >:)

“I think it’s sweet,” Patrick said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, practically dripping from every syllable. “The last American virgin. You belong in a museum.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your empty Taco Bell cup at him— the ice rattled and it leaked a puddle of condensation onto the ground. “You could try not to be a dick about it.”

Art’s dorm room was hot and sticky thanks to a faulty AC, which meant the three of you lounging on the floor by his open window, sucking down soda watered down by melted ice cubes. You were down to a T-shirt and shorts, they were down to their boxers. It wasn’t lost on you that it was an intimate situation to be in— barely dressed, crammed into the shoebox of a dorm. And of course Patrick had dug his fingers in until you admitted your secret— you had made it all the way to college totally unfucked.

Patrick leaned forward, smiling the smarmy smile that tended to wear at your last nerve. “So you’re a virgin, but like,” he leaned in, so close you could feel body heat radiating from him. He dropped his voice, just above a whisper. “How much of a virgin, really? You’ve at least gone to third, right?” You glared, but shook your head.

“Second?” Art supplied, suddenly jumping in with an eager sort of curiosity.

“What? No, I don’t even know what that means,” you admitted. You sighed before you spoke up. “I’ve only ever kissed one guy and one girl, and it was during a game of spin the bottle, like, junior year.”

“How?” Patrick asked.

Your brows furrowed. “How? I spun the bottle, it landed on the person, I leaned in, put my lips against theirs, and that was it.”

Patrick sighed. “Just fucking show me how.” He looked at you expectantly, inching even closer.

With an annoyed sigh, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his— mouth closed, lips firm. When you sat back, Patrick and Art were both grinning.

“What?” You asked with a frown.

“That’s how you kiss on the playground in elementary school,” Art said, unable to contain his laughter. “C’mere.”

You crawled forward, stopping in front of the blond. His hand settled on your jaw, coaxing you forward.

His lips met yours softly, sweetly. It was easy to lose yourself in the feeling of Art’s mouth, in the gentle brushes of his lips against yours and the way he held your face so tenderly.

The feeling of his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips was strange, but you welcomed it, letting him lick into your mouth.

Each pass of his tongue against yours drew you deeper and deeper into it, into him. You moved into his lap without realizing it, kissing him with sweet, timid laps of your tongue.

Art pulled back first, his cheeks soft and pink and so pretty. “See? That’s how you’re supposed to kiss someone. That was really good.”

You laughed softly, and moved off of his lap sheepishly. Patrick leaned forward, brushing your hair back, holding your face in his hand.

“Okay, show me what Art showed you,” he instructed, then leaned in.

Kissing Patrick was different than kissing Art. He was hungrier, more insistent. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he wanted to chart every inch. You did your best to match what he offered, to kiss the way Art had just shown you, sweetly, like you really meant it.

And you did mean it. Patrick’s hands moved along your side, up until they cupped your tits through your shirt. You moaned softly into his mouth— the sound was muffled, met with a moan of his own. He gave an experimental squeeze of your tits and you whined softly. So he did it again, amused by the pretty, sweet noises you mewled out.

Patrick was getting hard, pressing against your thigh. It was a new sensation that you were hyper aware of as you unconsciously ground yourself against him.

You pulled back first, cheeks burning hot after you remembered Art was right beside you. You tucked unkempt hair behind your ear, smiled bashfully. “How was I?”

“Good,” Patrick said.

At the same time Art supplied, “So good.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay. Cool.”

Art was squirming, fidgeting, holding a pillow over his lap. Patrick was less covert— opting to openly adjust himself, drawing more attention to the fact that he was hard. You rolled your eyes and stole the nearest cup you could find, sipping at watered down Mountain Dew.

“Do you want me to leave?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. Your teeth dug into the plastic straw as you looked between the two of them.

Art stammered, mortified, but Patrick just smiled dizzyingly over at you. “I can teach you something else. You got to first base, so why don’t you steal second?”

You rolled your eyes, but heat flared behind your cheeks. Jesus Christ, he was such a smug asshole. “I still don’t know what that means,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed.

He grinned and mimed jerking off. Your eyes widened, and you laughed softly. “That would be weird,” you said, half-believing it. “Like, if I did jerk one of you off, that leaves one of you just watching.”

You glanced at Art, who looked just as interested as Patrick did, and your heart stammered nervously. “What if I show you how you do it on Art? Look at him— he’s the perfect little practice dummy.” Patrick reached over, pinching at Art’s cheek until the blond kicked his shin.

“Show me?” You echoed. “Like… you’re going to do it to him, and I do it to you?”

Patrick nodded, leaning into Art’s side, his smarmy smile dissolved into something needier. Art swallowed hard, lips parted slightly as he looked over at Patrick.

Patrick’s lips met his slowly, hungrily. You watched wide eyed as Patrick deepened the kiss, as Art eagerly accepted the other boy’s tongue into his mouth.

Patrick threw the pillow out of Art’s lap and sent it careening into the desk on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Art, hard and tenting his boxers. Patrick palmed him in his large hands making the blonde whimper into his mouth and buck up, seeking friction.

You swallowed hard, biting down on the straw as you watched Patrick tug at the elastic of Art’s boxers. Art lifted his hips to allow Patrick to tug them down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock to both of you.

“See,” Patrick gasped, leaning back from their kiss. Art chased his lips fruitlessly, mouth ajar, waiting for more. “He’s so fucking easy. Come feel.”

You moved closer, looking at Art for permission. When he nodded, you reached out, letting your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft. He exhaled a shuddery breath, eyes fluttering shut. Patrick’s hand covered yours, guiding you to squeeze around his length.

He was warm under your touch, silky soft, pulsing in your grip. Your heart hammered just at that— at the feel of him in your hand. “Feels nice, huh? Knowing how much he wants you.” You nodded, then slid your fist up, testing the waters. Art moaned softly, throbbed in your grip, aching for more. Patrick smiled like the cat who got the cream. “Hands off, just watch me.”

Patrick spat into his hand and replaced your hand with his own. The second Patrick curled his fingers around Art and started stroking him slowly, the blond was mewling for more. “Fuck,” he moaned, his forehead knocking against Patrick’s, mouth open, panting. “That’s good, feels good.”

You watched Patrick rub his thumb over Art’s tip, eyes widening as Art really whimpered for it, hips thrusting up into Patrick’s fist, chasing more of the pleasure the brunet offered.

“You get it now?” Patrick asked. You nodded quickly, and he tugged down his own boxers. “Fuck, okay— fucking show me.”

Your heart hammered with nerves, but you nodded. You held your hand out and spit into it, mimicking what Patrick had done before you wrapped your hand around his cock.

He felt bigger in your hands, but you didn’t say that. One, you worried it might piss Art off, and two, he didn’t need the ego boost. And he was slick, beading precum at his tip so each pass of your hands felt slicker and slicker.

And you couldn’t help but want to be an asshole. “You’re wet like a girl,” you said with a smirk, gliding your thumb over his tip.

And he was shameless, nodding with a sly grin. “That means I like you.” He panted, moaning softly. “Besides, I bet your fucking panties aren’t dry right now.”

Well, fuck. You tried to ignore the rush of heat in your belly that those words caused, to focus only on the glide of your hand on Patrick’s cock— up and down, copying his pace on Art, copying the ways he’d squeeze and twist his hand.

Art was moaning, rutting up into the tight sheath of Patrick’s fist, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing in unsteady jerks beneath his soft skin.

“Fuck— switch, switch,” Patrick said quickly. Art whined when Patrick stopped touching him, but it was ignored. “Want you to feel it when he comes.”

He guided your hand back onto Art’s cock and nodded for you to move. “Fuck, your hand’s so soft,” Art groaned. “Faster, faster, fuck—“ He was practically begging. You swallowed, increased the pace, squeezed him a little tighter.

Art was touching Patrick— jerking him off while you brought him closer and closer to finishing. Patrick leaned in, kissed you deeply, pulled Art in too until the three of you were a mess of tongues and lips and spit and hands.

Art came first— coating your hand in warm, slick cum, throbbing in your grip. He was panting into your and Patrick’s mouths, moaning softly as you continued to slowly work him through it. Patrick came next, once Art redoubled his effort, focused on making Patrick add to the mess covering your hands.

Patrick was loud, pornographic, messy. Art brought a cum covered hand between his lips, cleaning it up. Your eyes widened.

“Art, c’mon, you’re scandalizing her,” Patrick said, like you weren’t even there.

“Shut up,” you said, shoving him. He laughed and pulled his boxers back up. Art followed suit, and the three of you were left gross and sweating in the heat. You wiped your hand off on one of their discarded shirts and gave a sheepish smile.

They sat there, expectantly. Waiting for you to make the next call. There was a level of want in you, need, but the thought of asking for them to take care of it was mortifying. “Do you want to watch a movie or something now?”

#and when they bring Tashi in to teach her to ask for what she wants then what????#if u want me to continue this……. please god please keep sending me reqs for this au #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #my writing #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader

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avatarchic · 8 months ago

Text

— FOREIGNER

How the Karasuno boys would react to meeting Shoyo's foreign cousin.

— starring. karasuno boys x foreign exchange student!reader (separately), student teacher!reader in ukai's

— tags. fluff, first meetings, pining

— warnings. use of 'pretty' and 'cute' to describe reader, but no pronouns are used, you slap ryuu in his LOL, mild suggestive comment in ryuu's if you squint

— requested? yes! thank you so much for your request this was fun to write :)

— notes. some of these are longer than others sorry ADHKWH my biases are showing a lil // this ended up being a first meeting + how they act when they start crushing on you, but it they're so cute so i didnt wanna change it lolol

daichi is whipped for you from the start

he doesn't show it (or he doesn't think he does) but he's attracted to you the second he lays eyes on you

he's extra sure to be polite to you, too embarrassed too show his brasher nature in case it scares you off

he loses his backbone whenever you're around

he needs to scold some of the first years for goofing off, but you're standing there? he's all sunshine and rainbows

when he finds out that you're a foreign exchange student, he's over the moon

he subtly finds out your classes from shoyo, who of course doesn't realize his intentions as he blurts out your schedule happily

he checks up on you often, making sure you're adjusting well to japan because "what kind of captain would he be if he let his underclassman's cousin have a hard time?"

the team is none the wiser, except for maybe koshi who sees through his shit immediately

he has a habit of patting your head as a greeting, even if he's just passing you in the hallways even if you complain about him messing up your hair

overall, he's super soft with you :)

sawamura daichi! was annoyed when he met you. shoyo hadn't shown up to practice and wasn't answering his phone, which left the captain ready to send the orange-haired freshman to an early grave. after kei made a smart remark that he saw shoyo lingering near the school entrance, he was on a mission to give the boy hell.

kei was right, of course. when daichi made his way to the entrance, he saw shoyo right away. he stomps over, lips parting to lecture the younger male about responsibilities when his eyes ghost over you. he stops short, shoyo's name barely dropping from his mouth as he pauses.

when you both turn to him, daichi feels his breath catch in his throat. it was clear that you weren't from around here. your odd sense of dress stuck out like a sore thumb—not to mention he had never seen you before. but if anything, he thought you were pretty.

"you're late for practice," daichi states lamely, barely managing to tear his gaze away from you to glower at shoyo. "i ought to put you on cleaning duty tonight."

the threat fell on deaf ears, shoyo's large grin unfaltering as he wraps an arm around your midsection in a tight hug. "captain! sorry, sorry," he apologizes, though the wide grin on his face told daichi he wasn't serious. "my cousin texted me that they were here, so i had to say hi!"

at his words, you finally snap out of your stupor, offering daichi a small smile. "i didn't realize he had practice. i wouldn't have called him out if i knew."

daichi presses his lips together, feeling his ears warm at your kind tone. "it's okay," he says softly. "i'll let him off for now. it's nice to meet you—i'm sawamura daichi."

when you introduce yourself, he finds himself repeating your name in his head.

"oi," he clears his throat, turning to shoyo with a deadpan expression. "c'mon. we're late enough already." daichi turns to bow his head at you politely, quickly turning around before you can see the warmth in his cheeks.

your sweet voice calls out a goodbye, and daichi decides then and there that he wants to get to know you better.

"hey, hey—why are you so red?"

"you're gonna shut up now if you want to go home early tonight."

koshi didn't realize you were shoyo's cousin until after he got to know you a little

he couldn't help it—when he saw you he just thought you were super cute lmao

he fumbles a bit in front of you

he really really tries to be a cool, calm, and collected person but sometimes he embarrasses himself by saying odd things or staring at you a little too long

when he does figure out you're related to his underclassman, he takes the opportunity to get to know you better

and when he finds out you're in his homeroom? even better

the type to arrange study session together with you every weekend just to spend time with you

he actually invites you to watch their practices and games before shoyo does LOL

the whole team knows about his feelings and he doesn't even care, constantly throwing an arm over you shoulder and hanging around you during downtimes

wants to impress you, so he gives it his all (and then some) whenever you're there

his sets get more accurate and he even blocks more hits than he would've before

he really wants you to think he's cool

but if you compliment him, he's exploding on the spot

suguwara koshi! had no idea you were shoyo's cousin when he met you. you looked nothing alike and your personalities were completely different. despite you being a complete stranger, the lost look on your face amused him.

you met koshi when shoyo accidentally stranded you at the train station. you were supposed to take the same train to his house, but he didn't notice you weren't right behind him when he stepped into the train car. the last you saw of the tangerine-haired boy was the back of his head as the doors closed on you.

you were standing there in a panic, though no one stopped to check if you were okay. shoyo had you hold his schoolbag while he dragged your suitcase along, and when you tried calling his cellphone you heard it buzz in the bag that hung on your shoulder. for the life of you, you couldn't remember which stop to get off or which streets to take to get to his house.

"are you lost?" a gentle voice asks you, pulling you from your anxious thoughts.

your eyes meet and koshi can't help but think you're cute as hell. you look doe-eyed in your panic, rounded eyes and parted lips. when you don't answer right away, koshi's cool demeanor switches and he stumbles into an embarrassed frenzy. "wait, can you even understand japanese?"

thankfully, you do, having learned it from shoyo at a younger age. you blink away the remnants of your panic with a few hasty nods. "yes, sorry. my cousin accidentally left me here, and i don't really know how to get to his house..."

koshi calms down at your insistence, chuckling to himself. "do you know the address?"

you wince, "no."

"alright," he says in a way that he hopes is soothing for you. "i can keep you company while you wait for him to return, then. it'd probably be nicer than just standing here by yourself."

when you agree, he hides his smile. he asks you several icebreakers, such as your name and your favourite colour. with every passing second, he only thinks you're even cuter than when he first saw you.

eventually, shoyo does come back, panting and heaving as he runs up the stairs to the station platform. his bright eyes widen when he sees you together with koshi. "oh, sugawara? you've met my cousin?"

koshi meets your eyes with a grin. "i guess we'll be seeing each other more often."

honestly asahi doesn't even acknowledge you when you first meet

he doesn't find out you're shoyo's cousin for weeks, so you're really just another classmate to him

you don't even talk to each other until like a month or so after you transferred

and even then, your conversations are short

he's polite to you when you work together, but he doesn't really try to become friends with you

don't get him wrong! he thinks you're nice and pretty, but he is too damn shy to initiate anything with you

you kinda think he hates you at first, but after you realize that he's just not an outgoing person you relax around him

when he does find out you're related to shoyo, you end up seeing each other more often out of class

you show up to more practices, even if you're just sitting on the benches doing homework

shoyo even drags you along whenever the team meets up outside of school to hang out

as a result, you and asahi eventually grow closer and he opens up more bit by bit

he doesn't actually start crushing on you until graduation nears

he realizes it when he hears you cheering his name at one of their bigger games

he thinks his name sounds prettier coming from you

he doesn't initiate any skinship with you, but he's always asking about your day and checking on you in his own ways

will absolutely combust if you even so much as brush pinkies as you're walking together

azumane asahi! first met you in class. like koshi, he doesn't know you're related to shoyo initially. when the teacher introduces you, making you write your name on the board, you don't have the same last name as shoyo. he doesn't really pay much attention to you, minding his own business as he takes out his notebook and pens.

several weeks pass and your homeroom teacher announces that you'll be partnering up for a group presentation. your first real conversation with him goes as expected—you exchange contact information and go your separate ways when the bell rings.

he thinks you're attractive, but he's too shy to actually act on those thoughts and he just pushes through the project, interacting with you as little as possible.

it's only when shoyo forgets his volleyball uniform at your house that asahi figures out you're related.

he sees you first, standing in the gym entrance while you wait to be invited in. you look hesitant as your eyes cast over the several members of the volleyball club, your gaze landing on asahi. when recognition flickers behind your eyes, he thinks you're there for him.

he opens his mouth to greet you, but before he can even utter a word, an orange blur runs past him. you're almost knocked on your ass as shoyo tackles you, excitedly calling out your name. "what're you doing here?" he asks you, tilting his head as he releases you from his death grip. "you never come to practice."

"you left your uniform at mine," you explain quietly, pulling the clothing out of your bag.

there's a moment of silence, before all hell breaks loose. the others scream and yell at shoyo, yuu and ryuunosuke shaking him by the shoulders as they demand why they weren't informed about his girlfriend.

even asahi's jaw drops at the thought of you, his classmate and group partner, dating shoyo, of all people.

"we aren't dating!" you exclaim, shaking your hands in front of you adamantly as disgust paints over your facial features. "we're cousins."

as the club eventually quiets down, you meet asahi's gaze over the commotion. when you offer him a bashful smile, he can't help but return it.

as expected, yuu is also whipped for you the second you meet

he swears on his life that he has never met someone as perfect as you—not even kiyoko (which says a lot)

at first, his attraction to you is entirely physical and he doesn't hide it

he compliments you every time he sees you he even compliments your outfits even if you're just wearing the karasuno uniform

he practically begs shoyo to bring you to practice just so he has an excuse to ogle at you and profess his 'undying love'

you'd probably make good friends with kiyoko, bonding over the second years' unabashed feelings and loud professions of love lol

though he's completely smitten with your looks, yuu doesn't learn a thing about you until like two months after your transfer

he realizes it when koshi asks if he knows anything about you and no, the fact that you're pretty doesn't count as something

during a late night run to the nearest convenience store, he runs into you

you're dressed casually, and he realizes it's actually the first time he's seen you outside of uniform

he thinks you're very cute in your bunny pajamas

he approaches you with koshi's words in mind, and asks if you want to hang out for a bit

your hang outs become a common thing, and eventually it's your weekend tradition to meet at the convenient store after sundown

after really getting to know you, he realizes that he likes more than just your appearance

shockingly, once he figures out his feelings for you, he tones down a lot

he would stop confessing his love for you every moment he could, but he gets casually affectionate with you

he'd always stand close enough for your shoulders to touch and would absentmindedly guide you places by taking your hand

he's never had a real crush on anyone before, so he's feeling it out with you

nishinoya yuu! has hearts in his eyes the moment he meets you. shoyo brought you to practice one day, excited to introduce his favourite cousin to his teammates. he had all but dragged you to the gym by the wrist, ignoring your insistent utterings that you can walk on your own.

"this is my cousin!" shoyo announces the second he bursts through the doors in true hinata shoyo fashion. you were the last ones to show up, so the entire team was there to witness you getting dragged in by shoyo. "they transferred here from overseas."

yuu feels the world stop once he glances over at you after receiving a particularly harsh spike from tobio, freezing into his squatted position. his world becomes a romcom movie—he swears someone must be blowing a fan in your direction with the way your hair sways as you walk into the gym. he might even be seeing the air sparkle in your presence.

he's absolutely starstruck with you, and he makes no effort to hide it as he bounds over to you. he takes your hands in his, looking at you with wide eyes as he takes you in. he can hear someone groaning, maybe daichi, as they mutter something along the lines of "he's at it again."

"i'm nishinoya yuu," he introduces himself. "you're really cute!"

your mouth opens, but no words come out as you simply stare at yuu in surprise. shoyo had given you a brief rundown of his group members, and you realize that this might be why he warned you about the libero in particular.

even when daichi smacks the back of his head, apologizing to you quietly, yuu remains in his lovestruck gaze.

you stay to watch their practice, at both shoyo and yuu's insistence, and yuu makes a point to be even more extravagant than usual. you can't help but laugh at his boisterous rolling receives and the way he calls out ridiculous move names.

oh ryuu. typical ryuu.

the first words he ever speaks to you end up with him getting slapped

like yuu, he thinks you've been blessed by the gods with your looks and he makes it clear to you when you meet

he asks you to go out with him, only to blatantly check you out right after, which earned him a smack to the face

eventually, he does apologize for his behaviour, though you don't accept it right away

when you tell him that you hate guys who treat others like eye candy, he's sure to tone it down for you

of course, a man can't change overnight

he still flirts with you, and with other women—he can't help it ;( him n yuu are menaces

however, when he's not being an absolute pest, he gets to know you

he learns about your interests and hobbies, and finds himself indulging you in them (who would've thought he'd end up enjoying the art of bracelet making?)

when you become close friends, you become his person

he goes to you whenever he wants to talk about something, and he lends an ear whenever you need to vent

he asks you about your home country often, wanting to know more about your life before you came to japan

he'd even go out of his way to do things for you that remind you of home whenever you start feeling homesick :)

it's not until well after graduation when he realizes that he might actually like you

tanaka ryuunosuke! was mid confession when you met. shoyo had brought you to one of their games, and just as ryuunosuke was getting on his knees to ask kiyoko to marry him, his eyes fall on you.

it's almost astounding how quickly the second year moved from the glasses-wearing beauty to you, appearing in front of you in an instant. before shoyo can even introduce you, he stares you down with a steeled expression, his eyes narrowing.

"you're the prettiest person i've ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on," he claims in his most serious tone. he takes your hands in his as he presses his lips to your knuckles. "please go out with me."

there's a collective sigh as the team turns away at his antics. you, on the other hand, feel your head pound in irritation. "excuse me?"

ryuunosuke doesn't hear the vexation in your tone, or chooses to ignore it, as his eyes trail over your features. even when you're staring at him in an angry disbelief, he thinks you're incredibly pretty. however, as his eyes drop lower and lower, his mind enters a less-than-appropriate headspace.

the feeling of your hand connecting with his cheek rips him out of his lewd daydreams. you didn't slap him hard, but the sound echoed over the loud chatter of the audience members anyway. "you pervert," you utter, gritting your teeth as you turn on your heel. you barely tell shoyo good luck as you all but stomp off to the bleachers.

ryuunosuke stares at your back, holding his reddening cheek in mild awe. yuu nudges his side. "don't tell me you're into that, man."

he at least has the grace to blush.

to be honest, you and tobio do not get along until much later

it's not because you're related to shoyo it is

he just genuinely has no idea how to talk to you lmao

you meet him on the first day of school with shoyo

the realization that he may be teammates with the very guy he had practically berated in middle school took priority over greeting you tbh

it's only after their initial fight when he realizes that you, a complete stranger, saw him yell at shoyo as harshly as he did (even if shoyo didn't have many nice things to say either)

he's kinda embarrassed abt it tbh

like?? you had to see him like that?? he's mortified

so when he joins the volleyball club and you're a manager, he avoids you like the plague

when he talks to you, he accidentally comes across as if he hates your guts (he doesn't, he just cannot properly converse with people to save his life)

your relationship is extremely terse for months, since you get pissed off at his behaviour and he doesn't know how to act normally around you

he doesn't warm up to you until one of their games later in the season, where the morale is low and the team is hanging their heads

you give them an uplifting speech, telling the team that they're stronger than they think

it's the first time tobio looks at you in a pleasant light, and he merely puts a hand on your shoulder to say thanks as he makes his way back to the court

slowburn as fuck tbh he might not even realize he likes you until you're about to graduate (cut him some slack he's only a lil slow)

kageyama tobio! barely acknowledges your existence when you meet. you had moved to japan before their first year at karasuno began, so you showed up with shoyo to the first day.

of course, tobio recognized shoyo immediately from their encounter in middle school. shoyo had dragged you to the gym to go with him to sign up for the volleyball club, insistent that you try to apply to be a manager or something. tobio was there, about to spike a volleyball.

the second shoyo and tobio lock eyes on each other, they're at it like cats and dogs, and you're left standing there in confusion. seeing shoyo as angry as he was is shocking to you and you wonder what the hell this other guy must've done to rile up your sunshine cousin so much.

tobio doesn't even look at you as he argues with shoyo, not meeting your eyes until after the fight has 'calmed' down. he stares at you quietly for a moment before averting his gaze, grumbling something under his breath as he leaves to retrieve the volleyball shoyo made him drop.

he doesn't say anything to you as you talk quietly with daichi about becoming a manager. he vaguely overhears shoyo introducing you as his cousin, but he's too annoyed to listen.

later on, when him and shoyo are finally accepted into the club, and you're brought on as a manager-in-training, tobio still ignores you.

you don't have your first conversation until a week later, when you corner him after practice. "what is your problem?" you demand, your hands propped on your hips. "i know you don't like sho, but you haven't said a single word to me since you joined the club."

tobio flushes in embarrassment as he stares at you. he doesn't mean to, but his eyes narrow into what could be perceived as a harsh glare. "i don't have anything to say," he says truthfully, his voice coming out colder than necessary.

when he rushes off to hide his growing fluster, you're left standing there confused.

you and kei barely interacted at first tbh

he had never seen you before and it was the weekend when you met so he had no reason to assume you'd ever talk again really

even after finding out you were related to shoyo, he didn't bat an eye

after all, he's not exactly going over to the orange-haired boy's house for sleepovers lolol

but to his surprise, you're in his classroom the next monday morning as a foreign exchange student

your classmates rush to you, overwhelming you with numerous questions about your hometown, and it's clear to kei that you're flustered

you meet his gaze over the crowd of people, and for a moment you're shocked to see him

however, before either of you can do anything, you get bombarded with even more questions

to your surprise and his, kei scoffs as he approaches your crowded desk

"can't you see you're bothering them?"

the gaggle of students dissipates with embarrassed apologies, leaving you and kei alone

your relationship with him from then on is odd

there's an unspoken agreement that you both don't like being bothered by other people, and you lowkey bond over it

he would never admit you're friends, but he comes to your rescue often

if you can't understand a phrase or if you don't know the answer to a question in class, he'll quietly help you out (but don't bother asking about it, 'cus he'll deny it vehemently)

when you start hanging out during practices, he ruffles your hair and rests his arm on your head regardless of your height

making fun of you is his love language (not that he'd ever admit he has feelings)

tsukishima kei! meets you when you're babysitting natsu. the team had been out getting ice cream (as per koshi's insistence—for team building), leaving kei in a sour mood because he would rather be anywhere than here.

"shoyo! sho!"

the whole team looks over, seeing a little girl who is the spitting image of their short middle blocker running toward them. kei's expression drops even more, because there's two of them?

shoyo almost drops his ice cream cone with the way the little girl jumps on him. "what are you doing here?" shoyo asks, scrambling to catch his sweet treat. "where's—"

before he can finish his sentence, another figure comes running at them, out of breath. "natsu!" you scold airily as you make your way up to the team, hunching over and resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. "jesus, don't just run off like that!"

you look up at shoyo from your hunched position, letting kei get a good look at your face. you're flushed, sweat beading on your brow bone and lips are parted as you breathe harshly through them. it's clear to the blond that you've been running around for some time now, something that makes him snort into his strawberry ice cream cup.

"sorry, sho," you wince, practically dragging the little girl, natsu, to your side. "she ran off while i was paying for her snacks. she probably saw you through the window." you vaguely gesture to a nearby convenience store, holding up a bag of candy.

you talk with shoyo for another moment, before turning to the rest of the team. your eyes briefly meet kei's and he arches a brow at you. you apologize for interrupting them, but daichi insists that you're fine and that you and natsu can hang around since you're there anyway.

as a result, you and kei end up standing near each other as the group converses. kei had been hanging a little bit away from the others, minus tadashi of course. you end up near him by coincidence—you don't know the others, and the three of you end up quietly sitting in acknowledgement that you didn't want to talk.

my darling baby tadashi is a mess when you meet <3

he was practicing his volleyball skills when he accidentally whams you in the face

he'd feel guilty about it for a while (even if you insist you're fine) and would use it as an excuse to buy you drinks from the vending machines lol

"this is the fourth drink you've bought me this week??"

"i have to make up for hitting you somehow :((("

becoming friends with tadashi is surprisingly easy, given how shy he can be

it becomes a habit to meet you by the vending machines before practice

the time in the halls between classes and volleyball are spent getting to know you

he asks a lot of questions about what it's like in your hometown and the differences in your culture

i don't think he'd start liking you until after you also get close with kei though lol good luck

the first time he sees you joking around with the tall blond, he thinks his heart is about to beat out of his chest

you must be an angel, he decides as he watches you get along with kei

the three of you form a trio and you end up spending more time with them than shoyo LOL

kei absolutely knows about tadashi's feelings and takes every opportunity to tease him about it whilst you're blissfully unaware

he's so so smitten around you after he realizes he likes you

the type to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky yourself and to becoming maddeningly red whenever you so much as make eye contact with him

yamaguchi tadashi! hits you in the head the first time he meets you. he was in the gym alone, practicing his float serve. you pushed through the heavy metal doors just in time to get slammed in the face with a ball gone awry.

he feels his heart drop to his toes as he quickly rushes over to you, asking if you're alright and if you need to see the nurse. his panic only worsens when he realizes you're bleeding from your nose.

although the hit shocked you, you're left watching in amusement as tadashi scrambles to find something to stop your nosebleed with. when he eventually returns to you, having ran from the boys washroom to grab a wad of papertowel, he apologizes again softly.

"are you okay now...?" he asks when your nosebleed finally stops. he looks almost like a kicked puppy, his hair falling limply into his eyes.

even after you reassure him that you're fine, tadashi still wears his guilt like a crown. he offers to buy you something from the vending machines, and does so despite your insistence that he doesn't need to.

"you can accept it for my sake," he says sheepishly as he offers you the cold can. the two of you converse quietly, with you introducing yourself as a new foreign exchange student.

"oh!" he suddenly lets out, looking over at you. "did you need something in the gym?"

"i was looking for my cousin," you sigh. "he said he was in the volleyball club and i haven't been able to find him at all today."

he's shocked when he finds out that you're shoyo's cousin—the boy had talked about you earlier in the week when he found out you were transferring to karasuno. as you talk, tadashi thinks to himself that shoyo never mentioned how cute you were.

your first meeting with keishin is awkward

ltrly knocks you off your feet when he runs into you

he's kind of brash when he meets you, not caring if you think of him badly because of it

you don't have much of a relationship at first—your work pulls you to the classrooms after all, so he doesn't really see you around often

the next time he sees you, you're stomping into the gymnasium mid practice with an irked expression

he's about to tell you off for interrupting practice, but he quiets when he sees you make your way to your younger cousin

he only watches in amusement when you tell him off for his horrid grades

when shoyo turns to keishin for help, he only shrugs with a lazy grin on his face

"sorry, little man, you heard 'em. no volleyball games until you raise your grades"

to shoyo's chagrin, you and keishin make a terrifying pair for him (and the other three idiots lolol)

you only really start hanging out with him when you end up making a late night run at his convenience store

it's the first time he sees you in casual clothing and the case of beer in your hands makes him laugh

"you wanna share that?"

he becomes your drinking buddy every other weekend, and he grows to cherish the time you spend chugging back cans of beer with him

keeps his feelings on the downlow, but as time goes on even the boys realize that their coach has a soft spot for you

ukai keishin! bodies you the first time you meet. the man doesn't realize his own strength until he literally knocks you flat on his ass after he turns a corner and bumps into you. his eyes go wide when the books and papers in your hands go flying, falling around you in a frenzy.

"shit," he curses under his breath, bending down to pick up your things. "sorry 'bout that." his voice is gruff as he speaks, collecting your papers without much care. when he returns them to you, some of them are scuffed and crumpled.

as he's handing you your things, he finally gets a good look at you. you're dressed more formally than he is by a mile. he holds a hand out to help you to your feet, his brown eyes falling to the lanyard around your neck.

"you new here?" he asks, jutting his chin out to gesture to your nametag. student teacher is typed above your name and picture.

you nod deftly, brushing off any dirt from your dress pants. "i started today. and you are?" your eyes meet his, and he knows you're silently scrutinizing him. he's much too old to be a student, you deduce easily, but he's dressed far more casually than any other other teachers.

when your eyes drift up to his bleached hair, he snorts. "i'm the coach for the volleyball club," he grumbles. "i don't need to be wearing fancy shit like you."

he sees your eyes light up in recognition as he analyzes your face with crossed arms. "the volleyball club? you must know my cousin then. hinata shoyo?"

keishin deadpans at you. "you're the runt's cousin?"

©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

4K notes · View notes

dabisqueen · 1 year ago

Text

Pornstar!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x female reader

⇢ word count: roughly 7K

⇢ plot: as a broke student, you sign up for an assistant job at a movie set. It turns out the job is more than you bargained for.

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, size kink, pierced big-cock Touya, fingering, cunnilingus (f receiving), multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, overstimulation, exhibitionism (sex in front of other people (movie set)), creampie, sweet aftercare

⇢ personal note: thank you @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for bring my beta again! As for what you're all about to read – I have no regrets. Virgin kink goes brrr

"College has always been so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future."

They say college life is quite challenging. That it can help you come to realize your potential, that you learn more about yourself while in it. That the challenges you experience in university help you grow into a mature person in society.

You have several challenges to face. There's the problem that you focus entirely too much on your studies. In some ways, it’s to secure your future and to compensate for your lack of private life. In other ways, it makes you, because of inexperience, too naive for your own good. Or, as your friends have called it: too innocent. You've never had anyone touch you, never been with anyone in that way. Thus, you never get the hint when someone hits on you or finds you attractive. You have excellent grades – but unlike many of your peers, you’re still a virgin.

Another challenge you are facing is that you aren't wealthy. One semester into your studies, you are closer to the end than you expected. Leaving your landlord's buro, you take a few steps before coming to a halt and close your eyes as if to gain some semblance of composure. You're broke and desperately need money to cover your rent and living expenses. The bank isn't going to give you another loan, and you find yourself on the verge of having to leave college without a family to support your education.

They say you have to fail first to be successful in the future. But you are beyond failing – you are simply screwed.

You are very aware of your financial predicament. And you loathe having to live day to day on just pennies. To put it short—you are sick of being a broke-ass, loser virgin.

You sigh.

Giving up is not a choice. So you do the next best thing: grab life by the horns and start looking for a job. Searching under your bed, clothing pockets, and between couch cushions, you scrounge up enough money to get a local newspaper. In its classified ads, only a few offers deem themselves feasible with your busy school schedule: a late-night shift at a local diner, pizza delivery, or a job doing telemarketing. None of those sound too appealing, but there might not be a choice. Then, your gaze stops at an offer that sounds too good. A movie company is looking for a production assistant on a film set; you don't need prior experience, work hours are during the weekends, and pay is double what the other jobs offer.

You don’t think before hastily grabbing your phone, punching in the number, and waiting while the dial tone rings.

After a distinct click over the other line, a man hisses, "Shimura?"

"Uhm, hi. I- I am calling about the assistant job offer. I was wondering—"

"You're hired. Tomorrow at 5 pm," the man at the other end interrupts in an annoyed tone.

He rattles off the address as you fumble around for a pen, hastily writing it down when you find it.

Before you can reply, he finishes with Don't be late and hangs up unceremoniously.

You exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath since he started speaking.

What the hell just happened?

***

The path to the location is littered with brown leaves, and you struggle to keep from slipping as you walk toward the building. The address given to you is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Its monotonous, featureless walls covered in graffiti make it feel abandoned. There are no visible signs that anything is happening inside at all.

As you walk across the parking lot, you start to see small indications of life: fancy cars—far too fancy for this area- and sensual music permeating through the corrugated steel walls.

You weren’t sure how to dress for a job you knew nothing about, so you opted for blue jeans, a white blouse, and pointy shoes with heels. Your hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and simple smokey eyes complete the look.

You aim for a large steel door that the cars are all parked close to. As you lift your head, you take in the old brick building you are standing in front of, lined with large casement metal windows.

There is a single doorbell, no name on it, and you hesitate before inhaling and pressing it with the tip of your finger.

You hear a clicking sound, and then the heavy door swings inwards.

Alright, here goes nothing.

***

The set is surprisingly professional—like a luxurious bedroom sliced in half. A row of chairs faces the set on a concrete floor behind multiple cameras and some sound equipment, with the crew standing around talking.

The producer, Tenko, as he introduces himself to you–with tufts of pale hair and seemingly chronic dry lips in dire need of some chapstick – explains that your job will consist of helping around the set, distributing beverages, and handing out the script. Simple work you could do. After introducing you to the crew, he hands you a stack of papers, instructing you to pass them out.

Then you see her—the actress. She is gorgeous, dressed in an ivory-colored silk robe. Her hair is the color of the sun. Her skin is flawless and tanned, and her body is perfect- although almost definitely sculpted by a professional surgeon.

"Where the fuck is he?" You hear Tenko grumble, pulling a phone from his pocket, thumb tapping against the screen.

A flurry of activity breaks your concentration. A door flies open, and a man strides through—the leading actor, you gather, from how everyone else suddenly perks up.

"Fucking finally," the pale-haired director groans, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his jacket.

The man's hair is coal-colored, falling in messy strands into his face. His eyes remind you of the bright ocean, almost glowing in the dim light of the set. His sharp lips pull into a wide grin, his canines peeking out. He is casually dressed, wearing a pair of dark, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, allowing you to notice just how well-toned his arms are. He is handsome, with delicate yet masculine features and sharp angles set in his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his thin lips form a troublesome grin when his eyes meet yours.

Shit.

He holds your gaze before dragging his sinfully blue eyes over your figure and looking away again. Your heart skips a beat because even in the low light, you can see that the actor is incredibly hot. Totally your type. You can't help but stare at him, watching how he moves, the way his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, the way his thighs bulge in his tight pants.

Speaking of bulge.

It's the biggest one you've ever seen, and the sight of it sends a pang straight to your core. Your cheeks heat up automatically.

Stop it!

You curse inwardly a few times for thinking lewd thoughts on a professional movie set.

But—you can't help it. He just looks too handsome. It stirs something inside of you you've never felt before. You sigh, knowing that this man has already made his way into your dreams, but in the end, they’ll stay just that— dreams.

Someone like him would never want to lay a hand on you.

As he approaches the stage, the man stops dead in his tracks, staring at the actress with a bored expression.

“Not her again.” You hear him groan.

The actress snaps her head around, a stunned expression on her face. “Pardon me?”

"The script calls for an innocent girl." The actor deadpans. "No one's gonna believe that with you in the female role."

The actress jumps to her feet. “How dare you talk about me like that!”

Tenko hisses, “Didn't you read the script? You would have known you film with her today, Touya—"

“I told you not to use my real name on set,” he says with a blase, somewhat impatient gaze.

“And I told you not to let out your frustration on the set, Dabi.” The director retorts.

“Frustration caused by your actions.” Dabi deadpans.

You hold your breath as your eyes dart from the director to Dabi and back to the actress. The rest of the crew acts like this is an everyday commotion on the set.

“This is not a request— I'm not doing the scene with her, " Dabi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The actress jumps from her chair, visibly outraged, as her cheeks flare red with anger. “You're such a dick!”

“Yeah, you're right. But I’m the best dick in the industry.” He turns around, a sardonic finality in his tone.

You stare at the scene before you, the forgotten papers clutched tightly to your chest. The blonde woman stares at the dark-haired man, infuriated.

“So, it's either me—or her.” Dabi addresses Tenko, who isn't even trying to de-escalate the situation. “That's my final say.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me!" The woman wails exaggeratedly.

"Sweetheart, we need someone who conveys innocence. Not some chick as fake-looking as you," Dabi purrs with false care. “Go carry your plastic off the stage already.”

Tenko scratches his neck in annoyance. He watches as the actress slings an array of profanities at Dabi before storming off with quick strides toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The dark-haired man stands at ease, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. “Thank god she's gone. What were you thinking, Tenko?”

“Dabi, she's the most requested—”

“I don't give a fuck.” he runs a free hand through his dark bangs. “She sucks.”

You listen to them bicker, getting more confused by the second.

“So—what do you expect me to do now?” Tenko's scratching increases as he starts pacing up and down the set. “Production costs will double if we cut and pick things up on a different day. Not to mention the cost of finding a new replacement.”

He jumps off his chair, pacing around the set. Then he grumbles, “We’ll take a ten-minute break. I need to come up with a solution or else—”

“We need someone Pretty, no makeup, normal clothes.” Dabi suggests, "That won't be too expensive. Someone who looks undefiled, innocent.” Dabi's gaze wanders across the room. “Like a student or something.”

Then he sees you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. His stunning sapphire eyes look you up and down. You swallow hard, your shaking hands almost crumpling the papers in their tight grip.

"Like her." Teal eyes narrow as they focus on you.

You blink back at him dumbly, the room around you completely silent.

"Me?" You answer, his words catching you off guard.

"Yep. You." Dabi's smirk returns, a playfulness in his eyes.

The director stares at you with the same baffled expression written on your face. "Her?"

"Yep. Her." His grin widens.

"B-But, I can't!" You counter. " I'm a simple student, not an actress—"

"That's exactly what we need." The twinkle in his eyes is still there, "And you have a pussy, don't you?"

"Yes, I—” You catch yourself, your cheeks flaring hot. “W- What does that even have to do with this movie?"

Suddenly, the room goes alive with murmurs and whispers.

Dabi quirks a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" You helplessly look around.

The dark-haired man turns to his director, "You didn't tell her?!"

Tenko mumbles something about how you would have found out eventually.

Dabi steps toward you and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Doll, this is an adult film set."

"A what?" You dumbly blink at him.

"An adult film set. You know, where people fuck." He leans forward, deep azures sparkling salaciously. "You know how fucking works, don't you?"

"Yes, I mean—in theory?" A heat washes over your face and flushes down your entire body.

"Yes or no. What is it?" Dabi asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

The heat in your face has reached the tip of your ears as you stammer. "It's none of your business."

He steps even closer. "C’mon, sweetheart, tell us."

He smirks, eyes narrowing as he leans closer. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes. You can smell him with how close he is leaning in. His deep, masculine scent surrounds you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your core. Even though your mind wants to scream at him, to tell him off, you hear a timid voice whisper, "I’ve used my fingers? Maybe some toys?"

It is your voice.

"You're telling me you've never done it with another person?" This time, it is Dabi’s turn to sound baffled as he leans back, taking you in. "That you're a virgin."

"I-I…" You stammer, swallowing dryly.

Looking over his shoulders, he calls over to his director, "It'll break records if we film this. You're aware of that, right?"

"I am." Tenko snaps, scratching at his neck irritably, "You don't need to tell me."

"Ok, then it's a deal.” He nods towards you. “I want her—or I'm leaving."

"You little piece of—" Tenko growls. "That's extortion."

"You won't regret it," Dabi says, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Shouldn’t I have a say on this too?" You ask, but both men ignore your words.

"Ok, it's a deal," Tenko murmurs. "How much do we pay her?"

Dabi turns his gaze back to you. "You need money, right? Or else you wouldn't be here.”

"That’s none of your business."

"C'mon, sweetheart, This is your chance."

“Yes, I mean… " a sound of annoyance bubbles up your throat. "I can't afford my rent anymore, and my landlord will kick me out if I don't pay up soon."

“I sense an opportunity here," Dabi smirks. "Tenko, how much will you pay her if she agrees to do this with me?"

"How much do you want?" Tenko asks you.

“I-I don't know. I've never thought about it." You shyly add.

"Pay her rent plus an allowance," Dabi suggests. "Tenko, you know she's worth it."

"That’s too m—" You swallow hard.

Tenko mumbles disgruntledly: "OK, I'll do it.”

“You what?" His words leave you stunned.

Dabi interrupts quickly. "What he's saying, sweetheart, is that he'll pay for your rent - if you let me fuck you.”

His lewd words and the deep blue pools of his stunning eyes send a flutter through your stomach.

“In front of all these people?!"

“That's what porn is all about, doll.” Dabi chuckles, studying your reaction.

You swallow hard.

"So? What's it gonna be?" He cocks his head, waiting.

You have always prioritized safety, so common sense tells you to stick to your usual way of life. However, look where common sense has led you: You're almost broke and may need to drop out of college.

This could be a bad decision. But, it's time to throw safety to the sea.

"OK, I'll do it," you proclaim, and a round of applause and cheers erupt on the set while Dabi nods appreciatively.

“Congratulations, you're hired. Now, get ready before I change my mind.” Tenko waves a hand. “We still have a movie to film here.”

Your heart starts to race, a crushing weight bearing down on your chest. But you know that you have no choice. It's either a free porn loan—or being a forced college dropout. Taking a deep breath, you ball your hands into fists, trying to ignore the signs of panic your body is giving you.

"Okay, everyone, resume positions. And hand her the script.” Tenko moves to his chair, sitting down in it. “Let's do the first take."

"Hold on," Dabi says. "Why not do it a bit differently this time? No script, no acting— just raw footage. The whole thing.”

“You mean a one-shot film?” Tenko looks surprised. “I suppose that would work. Especially with a new actress.”

“Are you okay with that, doll?” Dabi smiles at you, and there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.

“Do I have a choice?” you sigh.

“Not really.” He winks.

"Are you two lovebirds done flirting over there? " Tenko asks, " Because we're ready to film.”

“We weren't flir—” you protest, but Dabi bridges the distance between you.

"So, sweetheart?" He leans in, his face hovering close, sharing a breath with you. "How are you feeling about being fucked on camera?"

“Nervous.” you bite your lips, your face starting to burn.

"Doll, don't be; just focus on me," he soothes, stroking your cheek. “Forget about everyone else; I'll take care of you.”

He takes your hand and pulls you towards the bedroom set.

“Quiet!” Tenko raises a hand, and complete silence falls over the set as the crew prepares to film you both.

Tenko calls out a set of commands, which different crew members around the room answer.

“Sound?”

“Set.”

“Camera?”

“Set.”

“Roll sound.”

“Sound rolling.”

“Roll camera.”

“Camera Speed.”

“Marker.”

A man with a clapper board enters the scene and calls, "Scene one. Take—uhm— whatever."

Dabi nods, and that is the cue. The lights dim, and the cameras vanish into the darkness; only the red lights betray their existence.

You glance around, your stomach in knots, as you realize that this is no game, that this is it. The only thing visibly lit was the bed standing a few feet away. The crew's faces are barely visible as everyone watches you, the man behind the camera tilting it, filming you from bottom to top.

“Hey baby, you alright?” You hear Dabi's voice.

“N-No, not really.” You stammer, your hands trembling, your breathing picking up, as your eyes frantically dart around the dark set. “I don't know if I can do this.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You feel a finger hook under your chin when Dabi tilts your head to meet his gaze. It's intense, the turquoise of his irises gleaming almost unnaturally.

You feel your heart sink into your stomach as his thumb caresses your skin. When he closes the already minimal distance between you, your eyes flutter close in reflex. His lips are sensually warm and addicting against your cheek, and your heart starts thrashing wildly inside your chest in response. Something changes between you, an intimacy blooming as the voices of the people mute.

It's all you need to distract your mind, to make your body heat up. Not with anxiety—

—but in anticipation.

“Are you ready to give me your virginity?” His low voice rumbles close to your ear.

You nod, like in a haze, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, to burn with passion. He shifts, and you feel him faintly brush your lips, and a zap of electricity courses through your veins. Then, your lips are united in his first tentative kiss. They are so soft, and the way he kisses you is so delicate, almost tender— deliberately slow.

You relax, giving in to how wonderful this feels. His tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, and you feel your brain short-circuiting. Angling your head to the side, you part your lips, begging him to enter. Dabi reacts instantly, his tongue slipping your mouth, delving deeper, tasting you, consuming you.

You groan—how could a man taste so good?

It makes your knees buckle, and you start panting into his mouth, your instincts taking over, your body reacting to his touch. A desire, a passion, awakens like a wild animal roaring, and you feel a wave of arousal pool in your panties. You can't help it, and you slide your hand underneath his shirt, your other hand circling his neck. You can feel him smirking into the kiss, but the sound carries off into a groan when you rake your nails down the small of his back.

As he breaks away, a warmth lingers between you and him while he admires your wet, pink, swollen lips, "A little eager for your first time, huh?"

The kiss leaves you dizzy, and you can't seem to form an answer, too stricken by his closeness and intoxicating scent.

The moment passes, and then his lips smash against yours so fast you don't even have time to react. He presses his hips against yours, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat, letting you feel just how hard you’ve made him.

Holy shit.

He's not gentle anymore; he's rough and demanding now. He is taking you, enjoying the shaky gasps that leave your lips. Dabi’s hands trail down your side to find your ass cheeks. He lifts you by the thighs onto his waist skillfully, never breaking the kiss. Carrying you easily toward the bed he releases his hold and you topple onto it, panting heavily.

The lights around you heat the air, and you notice one camera panning across the set while the other tracks toward you on a dolly. Just as your heart starts picking up an anxious speed again, you see a movement to the side. Dabi yanks his shirt above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement.

The second the fabric touches the floor, he's on you with his lips pressed to yours and his tongue in your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment of passion and all you can see is him. Your stomach somersaults and the world around you ceases to exist; it is just you and him— the people around you and the cameras wholly forgotten. The world, right now, only revolves around the two of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes into your mouth, hazy eyes glowing with arousal. "How do you taste so fucking good?”

You feel his hand sneak underneath your shirt to slowly pull it off over your head. Next, he skillfully removes the rest of your clothes off until you are lying below him, sex and breasts cupped by delicate cotton underwear.

“Look at that,” he muses. “So innocent.”

Sliding his hand behind your back, he unhooks the bra with an expert pinch of his fingers. Your breasts spill out as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. Then his gaze lingers on your soft, round tits.

“Damn,” he cups them and squeezes them gently, “Where have you been hiding, girl? You're perfect.”

He slides his fingers over your nipples and a low moan tears from your throat. Dabi lets out a low rumble as his hands continue to work your breasts, rubbing and plucking at your stiffening nipples. There’s a deep throb low in your body, pulsing between your thighs, and you're startled at the way you’re reacting. You are so turned on—his touch only adds to your body’s cravings, and as his large palms glide over your breasts; it pulls the breath from your lungs as it simultaneously fuels your desire. His thumbs drag over your nipples again, rolling it between his fingers before leaning down to lick at your pebbled nub. He makes you feel breathless with excitement the more he focuses on toying with your breasts, rolling the tips back and forth between his thumb and forefinger.

It makes you crazy with need until you're aching, shivering throughout your entire body. You're gasping for breath the entire time Dabi has his lips wrapped around your erect nub, sucking it to send a tingling sensation straight through to your core. Then he's biting just hard enough to make you squeal before soothing the puckered nub with a flick of his tongue.

“You’ve got the most amazing tits,’ Dabi murmurs against your skin. “So soft and full. So natural.”

While he switches from pliant nipple to pliant nipple, you feel a stray hand hook its fingers under the seams of your panties. He releases your nipple with a pop and peppers kisses down to your tummy while he adeptly pulls the little piece of fabric down and off your legs. You're now utterly naked below him while Dabi continues revering your body with wet kisses and nibbles, moving downward until you feel his warm breath on your pubic mound. He spreads your trembling legs, his eyes glazing over your pussy, pupils expanding and then retracting into pin slits.

"Look at that pretty pussy." His breath is hot against your soaked folds. "And so fucking wet—you're dripping."

A shameful sound spills from your lips at his words, and you writhe in his hold. But his hands keep you in place.

"You're seriously telling me,” he slides his fingers up and down your glistening folds, “No one's been here before?"

You squirm below him as a camera zooms in on where Dabi’s eyes are affixed– between your thighs.

“Cause you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He snickers. “And I've seen a lot.”

His warm, calloused fingers slide up and down your slippery folds, his hot breath fanning over your sex. Then he spreads apart your sweet lips; it makes you shudder in anticipation, and Dabi chuckles.

“I can see you twitching for me.” A finger sinks in, making you arch your back the deeper it goes.

The camera behind him zooms in on your blushing face, and you cover it with trembling hands.

"Nu-uh, no hiding. Look at me." He slaps your clit lightly—making you jolt. "Let us see your pretty face."

You whimper softly, because you've touched yourself before—

—but this just feels so much more intense.

“Dabi—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your ass,

raising your hips to have more access to you.

“Relax, baby, I'll take care of you.” A growl tears from his throat, and then he drags his tongue over your gleaming folds, tasting you.

You cry out, your body shuddering. Over and over, Dabi licks you with deep, claiming strokes, using his tongue to explore every bit of you.

“Damn, you taste better than anything I've ever tasted.” He pushes his wet muscle into your core, frantic to have more of you.

“Oh my God. Dabi!” Your toes curl, and your thighs tighten around him. You're both – startled and aroused at his eagerness. Any worries you have are melting away as he drags his tongue over you again and again, making you squirm with need.

A moan escapes your lips– loud, uncontrolled– when his tongue flicks over your folds. When he grazes your little button, you jolt as if you've been stung.

He hums appreciatively and buries his face into your warmth, seeking out that sweet nub. Your body jerks as he moves his tongue over it, repeating the action when he does it again. You give a little wail, and your hands curl into the fabric the longer he teases. He eagerly works that spot, and you cry out with little choked gasps.

As his tongue circles your clitoris, your sensations spiral out of control. You can feel the tension increasing in your body with a growing urgency to be released.

“Dabi,” you pant with every flick of his tongue. But he doesn't respond, does not hear– or pretends not to. He buries his face in your folds, hands holding you down by your hips.

With every quiver that moves through your body, with every shiver of response, every tensing of your muscles, you draw closer to the edge.

You writhe against Dabi, with his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. All the while, he continues to work your little clit with his tongue in slow, steady strokes.

Suddenly, the feeling that you’re about to cum overwhelms you. Your pussy clenches, dripping with your juices, and your clit is ready to burst.

Your hips jerk against him, and then a release explodes in your mind, your thoughts crashing all around you. You come with a slight scream that morphs into a moan, but Dabi does not stop his ministrations—

—no.

He continues to lick and suck as you come and come and come.

It's too much; you feel like exploding. You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between Dabi’s strands, pushing and pulling at his roots unsure if you can take it if he keeps going like that.

Your entire body is on fire. The orgasm continues to surge through you– more intense than anything you’ve experienced by yourself– with Dabi gently sucking and licking at your clit. You are delirious, feel like you are floating with no way to find your path back to earth.

“Dabi, please—” you choke out.

Dabi’s mouth detaches from your overstimulated nub and straightens up, licking your cum’s sweetness off his lips. Crawling on top of you, he gazes into your eyes. “Doll, tell me—what do you want me to do?”

You see his jeans straining from the bulk of his erection and swallow, your body responding with a flood of hormones.

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, thinking in ways you never have before.

You want to beg him to be gentle, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him unbuckle his belt before unzipping his jeans, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he does. His cock springs to life, and you swallow thickly. It's enormous—and pierced.

You feel a momentary pang of doubt, questioning if that monster will even fit inside you. The previous excitement and adrenaline pumping through your veins gradually turn to panic. Your breathing picks up as you stare at his cock, wide-eyed.

“You look worried,” Dabi says, stroking it with one hand. His raised eyebrows and amused grin tell you he's used to this type of reaction.

“Are you sure…” you nod towards his cock.

“Trust me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you feel good. It’ll be the greatest thing you'll ever experience.”

Your entire body yearns for his touch, and there’s no way you're saying no now. He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves to hold himself in hand to align his cock with your entrance.

"Do you want me to fuck you?’ Dabi asks as he drags the head of the tip up and down your slit.

“‘S not gonna fit,” you whine with a worried expression.

“Don't be scared,” Dabi says, "I know what I'm doing. So, you'll be a good girl and take it all, right?”

“I'm not sure,” you whisper.

“I know you can...” His eyes stare at you with a desire so intense that you almost feel intimidated.

He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. The pressure between your legs increases as Dabi nudges the pierced tip of his cock against you.

“Get ready,” he whispers.

A mix of a gasp and a cry leaves your lips as Dabi strains against you, feeling like he’s trying to shove a massive pole inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather in your lashes, and Dabi holds back, kissing you, waiting for you to relax.

“Easy,” he says softly, “I’ve got you.”

The softness of his tone relaxes you and the tension in your shoulders lessens. Then, somehow, something gives way, and he enters you. You gasp, your body opening up to accommodate the massive dick that is now sliding inside of you.

"Oh my god—” You throw your head back, hands clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing before he hits resistance and then pushes forward.

There’s a sharp pain slicing through your core, and you don't know if it's from the stretch or a tear. Probably both. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheek. Dabi continues to push his hips forward, only stopping once he’s entirely inside, heavy balls pressed against the crease of your ass. The cameras zoom in on the bulge in your womb, where his dick sits buried deep inside of you. But you don't notice them, your brain too consumed by him filling you up, his whole weight resting against you.

“You ok?” Breathing heavily, he drags his eyes back and forth over your face.

“Gimme a sec.” Your lips press into a thin line as the pain from the stretch slowly turns into a dull throb. After a moment, you nod...

"I'm gonna start moving now," Dabi says— and then does precisely that.

Just as you start to feel your body relaxing, he withdraws, only to plunge himself in again. The sudden shock of the movement is incredible. You feel every ridge, every single thick vein. It feels fantastic, and as he slowly slides back in, you can appreciate every inch of his cock. He starts an even rhythm, rocking inside you gently.

“Shit, just squeezed me so fucking tight,” he moans in response. "I’m warning you, don't make me lose my composure. You don’t want to see me act up.”

Your mind feels detached from your body; you don't hear him, don't even notice the camera zooming in, focusing on how your face scrunches and your lips quiver because of how good he makes you feel.

He grabs you by the waist and brings you closer to him. Raising both legs in the air, he pushes them forward until your body is folded in half.

“Oh—shit—” You choke out, the walls of your sex stretching to accommodate him.

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Dabi is panting hard as he starts driving his cock rapidly in and out of you. “You won't be able to walk for days.”

“I-I can’t—” your jaw slackens as you tighten around his dick again, the ability to form comprehensive answers having left you the moment he breached your walls.

He rams himself deeper while his fingers slip between your strands, guiding your face upward, your mouths colliding in a frantic kiss.

It starts as a slow burn that gradually builds into a white, blistering heat. A feeling begins coursing through you, making you lose control of your body. You tense and arch your back, your head digging back into the pillow, voice caught in your throat. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, all that tension releases, and you cry out loud, a turbulent wave of pleasure hitting you like a storm. All your nerve endings are seemingly set ablaze while Dabi fucks you through your orgasm.

His eyes are wide with wonder, hearing and feeling you come undone around him. The way your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, your entire body trembling and shaking in ecstasy, is the best thing he's ever seen. It makes his chest swell with pride. Still, it feels like it's not enough, though, and he needs more. He wants to own you, possess you, make you his.

Dabi snaps.

With a suppressed growl, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He's not letting you catch your breath before he propels his cock back inside you again. His hand slides from the dip in your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing down until your face is buried in the sheets. At this angle, he reaches even deeper than before, his piercings rubbing your G-spot just right. Your hands tightly fist the soft duvet with every drive of his hips, knocking the air from your lungs.

Dabi seems delirious, pistoning in and out of you now. Reaching forward, he gathers your hair around his fist, tugging it to keep you in place, forcing your head up from the sheets. You sob out his name, your chin and cheeks covered with your drool and tears.

But Dabi is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice.

"I��m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never think of anyone but me in your fantasies," Dabi growls while your elbows shake under the pressure of his forceful thrusts.

Slowly, your mind is falling apart with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Dabi starts drilling his big cock into your even faster now. You tremble below him, thighs quivering when you feel another orgasm building up.

“You gonna cum for me again, princess?” Dabi groans, “I can feel your pussy clenching around me.”

You nod, too exhausted to form any words. Dabi tightens his hold on your hip, fingers digging into your plush skin, holding you still.

“I’m gonna cum with you,” he tells you. “I’m gonna fill up your tight hole, gonna breed you so good—fuck!”

"Please—" you whimper pathetically, finding yourself trapped in his lewd promises.

And then you lose it, feeling like the world is disappearing underneath your feet. Pleasure rips through you, leaving you with no strength. It’s an intense tingling pleasure that starts in your core and spreads through your whole body, from your fingertips down to your toes. It's all-consuming and euphoric, your body not knowing what to do with that much sensation at once.

You feel your body falling off a cliff into a pile of tingling ecstasy as you cum again with a broken whimper escaping your lips. The orgasm is even more potent than the last ones, like a massive burst of pleasure; all that tension explodes and shoots up the back of your legs and everywhere else. You moan and shudder, your pussy clamping around his cock.

“That’s it,” Dabi lets out a long, shuddering groan. “Just like that.”

You forget to breathe while Dabi keeps fucking your harder and harder, feral with desire, shoving his cock as deep inside you as he can.

“Oh fuck—” You gasp out, arching your back, fingers twisting against the sheets.

No sooner have the words slipped from your lips that you feel your whole body lock tight again—and then unravel. You forget to breathe as an unending cascade of euphoria detonates deep inside of you. You come undone, shaking uncontrollably as juices gush from your pussy, dripping down Dabis balls, drenching the sheets below.

Dabi groans, his eyes screwing shut, head dropping back. With one final possessive thrust of his hips, he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. You feel his cock twitch as he moans heavily, eyebrows sewn together. His body is shuddering, his hips hitching while he rides out his orgasm.

You’re faintly aware of your surroundings, buried too deeply in your bliss. Unable to take any more pleasure, you slump backward. Dabi slides his softening cock from you with an obscene wet sound before dropping down onto the bed beside you, taking you with him.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, caressing your skin. “That felt so—”

‘And—cut!’ You hear a voice call, speaking its way into the mush that is your brain, slapping you back to reality.

You open your eyes and look around in shock, having completely forgotten where you are. The lights switch on, almost blindingly bright. People start hustling about the set, and cameras mere inches away from you now pull back into their waiting positions.

“That was perfect,” you hear Tenko say through the noise filling the set now.

Your breath catches in your throat, an unsettling feeling beginning to well inside you. Your heart starts pounding at an increasingly rapid pace while you feel panic stretch its icy fingers up your spine.

You feel a warm hand cradling your face, angling it to the side. It’s Dabi. He places his mouth over yours without further ado.

“You are perfect.” Dabi coos into the kiss, and it happens again— butterflies erupt in your gut, the world around you fading until there's only you and him.

Instinctively, you let go, feeling the tension slowly dissipate and your heart calming down. Dabi smiles as he breaks away from you, and you feel it— a lingering warmth, an unseen connection that spins fragile threads between you both.

A man approaches to help you get out of bed, but Dabi, whose face is still dewy with sweat, moves between you both. He takes the bathrobe from the guy and wraps it around your shivering body before getting dressed himself.

Helping you off the bed, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and leads you past the celebrating crew members from the set until you’re backstage.

Once in the changing room, he closes the door behind him and leans against it.

“That was something…” he muses. “You’re a natural. Would you ever consider doing this again with me?’

You're caught off-guard, his face radiating a tenderness that fills your heart with something joyful. A warmth spreads across your face, your hands gripping the soft belt of your robe as you nip at your lower lip. “I-I don't know.”

“You should,” Dabi kicks off the door frame and saunters over you with a sinful, obscene sway of his hips. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Think about it…”

He lets the words hang in the air for a second. When he pulls away, his arms wrap around your neck, lower half still pressed against you as if you’re not a stranger. He looks down at you like the two of you have been dating for years.

“So, I was wondering… what are you doing later on?” Dabi kisses the tip of your nose. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat and get some drinks?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” A new desire for him grows inside of you. You smile back at him, reaching up to gently play with his dark hair.

“Maybe?” His lips curl into a devious smirk.

“Is this even allowed?” Chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly catches up to his, as if your bodies react simultaneously to each other's warm touch.

“Maybe?” Dabi repeats, his thumb gently brushing along your lips.

When you look into his eyes, a tenderness softens the rough edges of his sharp features. It makes you wonder, he’s been so sweet and caring after everything that happened today– you actually believe he’s a genuinely sincere and nice guy. You feel your heart quiet when you’re with him, as if you have found peace.

“Well…” you consider, “I've just thrown all my morals into the wind. So, might as well go on a date with a pornstar, right?”

“You won't regret it.” Dabis laughs softly. “Even though you might not be able to move after I'm done with you—”

“Is that so…” You are torn between scolding him or laughing because he's so cute. “Ok, big boy, whatever you say.”

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