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[fnsm008]

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍

Pairing: Sub! Shoto Todoroki x Gn! Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Use of vibrator, nipple play, begging, crying, hint of mean-reader, cum-eating, idk i think that covers it.

A/N: Damn idek what to say about this one. Pure filth.

Shoto's face when you pulled out your new toy was not what you expected, nor wanted.

He had frowned at the white vibrating wand in your hands. It made your excited grin fall immediately. “You don’t like it?”

He shakes his head. “I thought–I didn't know I wasn’t pleasuring you enough. I’m sorry,” He mumbles and you can feel your heart breaking. He misunderstood.

“That's not true! Shoto you are doing a wonderful job making me feel good.” He looks at you and nods half-heartedly, and then glances back to the wand, dichromatic eyes looking rather scornful at it.

You set it down, but he just cannot seem to tear his gaze from it. Like he is pissed off that he is even in the same room with the device.

So, you cup his face in your hands, but he doesn't look you in the eyes, still obviously upset. “It's not for me, Shoto. I am planning on using this on you.”

His eyes snap onto yours and widen. His cheeks flush red and you can't help but chuckle at his shocked appearance. He looks away, bashful and nervous, but growing more aroused as he thinks more about it. “O-Oh. Yeah…Okay.”

“You want to?” He nods his head frantically and you kiss his cheek.

“Good. Now, cmon darling, can you strip for me?” He nods his head again, quickly removing his shirt and pants. He begins to pull down his boxers and you almost drool, but keep your composure. You quickly tear your eyes away from his cock to the toy in your hands.

He watches the way you trace your finger over the wand like you're admiring a new toy. You were teasing him and he knew it. He could feel himself getting more and more excited.

“Look at you. Already so hard, and I haven't even touched you,” You tease and push him lightly so he lies flat on his back, his neck propped slightly with a pillow. His legs are spread and on either side of you, as you sit on your knees on the bed. You bring the vibrator over to his boxers.

He gulps at your words and the touch. “I'm excited,” Shoto whispers, using the back of his hand to cover his burning face. He had always wanted to try one, after seeing a couple of videos, but never went as far as to buy an actual wand.

“Yeah? I can tell, you're so flushed right now. Have you never used a vibrator on yourself?” He shakes his head and you smile. “It will feel good. We will keep it at a lower setting and work our way up. Sound alright?”

“Yes. Can we start now, please? It hurts.” You chuckle at his eagerness and turn the wand on. It was quiet, and could barely be heard, but definitely still vibrating.

Shoto eyes it like a kid in the candy store. He follows your movements as you bring it toward his flushing cock.

He flinches when he feels the touch and you rub his thigh encouragingly. Then, he sighs and shuts his eyes. You rub it gently along the shaft and down toward his balls, and finally back up to the head. He lets out another low sigh and you smile. “This is level one. Wanna go higher?”

“Please.” And with a click of a button, you move up to level two. You can now hear the buzzing. Like before you trace his cock, but still nothing more than a couple of deep breaths. He was usually quite loud in bed, so you could tell it wasn't powerful enough.

You switch it to the third level without asking. His mouth falls open as you press it directly onto the head and his cock twitches. You move the wand away from him, and a whine falls from his lips. You roll your eyes and press the vibrator toward one of his nipples. He jumps in surprise, and opens his eyes, now watching your antics.

You use your finger to trace circles around the other light pink bud, he squirms a little under your hold. “Careful, please. You know they are s-sensitive,” He sighs and squeezes his eyes shut when you pinch one of them.

Arousal pulls at you with his erotic words. He probably doesn't even know how hot he sounds. “God, you're so cute Shoto. I’m turning it up to level four.”

He murmurs out a quick, “Thank you” and nods. You bring the toy back down to his cock and he moans breathlessly for the first time tonight. You use your other hand to trace his thighs.

“More!” You raise your eyebrows at him, knowing he is forgetting his usual manners. He quickly gets the idea and stumbles out a, “please!”.

So, you indulge him and turn it up to level five. He moans outright and you grin. You grab his cock and trap the head in between the palm of your hand and the vibrator. His moans get louder, and higher in pitch when you focus on the most sensitive part of his body.

You switch it up to the next level and his head begins to thrash on the sheets. “Level six.”

“Y-Y/N, not just the head, please! Too much, it's too sensitive there!” Blood flows to your crotch and you begin to heat up, watching your usual stoic lover slowly unfold. But, you are merciful, so you pull away the vibrator, and kitten lick the precum leaking, before dropping his cock back to his stomach, with an erotic, smack!

You drag the wand back over the shaft and he continues to moan. You rest it at this level for a while, to take a good look at Shoto. His face and neck are pink. His hair is disheveled from the many times he kept thrashing his head from side to side. His eyes are glazed with tears and when he catches your stare he whines.

It forces you to look back down at his now red, pulsing cock. With all your admiring you had forgotten to move the wand, so Shoto was now humping it desperately. Precum was dripping down the shaft and onto the vibrator.

“I'm turning it up to level seven.” He nods and clenches at the sheets, excited for more.

With the new level, Shoto's eyes roll back and you grin. “I'm not even at the highest level and you are already acting fucked out.”

He shakes his head, the distinct line of separation between the two hair colors no longer there. “Feels good. So…So good.” You sigh helplessly and continue on with your antics, making sure to focus more on the head, which causes him to squirm.

“Are you going to make it to ten, love? You can't cum until we get to level ten.” His eyes widen at your statement and he begins to internally panic at your command.

“Higher! Next level! Please!” He begs and you laugh maliciously knowing exactly what's happening to the poor boy.

You switch it on to level eight and then nine. You were being kind, knowing from the way his body is twitching, he is going to cum at any moment. He struggles with orgasm denial, and besides he was being good today. He deserves your kindness.

His back arches and tears leak from his eyes. You force his hips down so that you can properly rub the wand onto it. It was buzzing frantically now, and loud enough for the room to echo with it.

But, Shoto was even louder. He moans uncontrollably and whimpers pathetically when you force the toy onto his head. He was gripping the sheets violently. “God, Y/N. Fuck! I'm gonna cum. Please! Higher!”

Still, even with your earlier kindness, you can't help but grin sadistically at the boy. “I don't know…I think this level is perfect.” Globs of precum continue to leak out of the red tip and he stares wide-eyed at you, tears flowing constantly out of his eyes.

He could feel the buildup coming. He knew if you let him go any longer he is going to disobey you. He was panicking. “Please! Level 10. I need level 10! I can't–It's too–Please. Please. I'm begging!” His words were gargled with tears.

With his adorable begs, you indulge him and turn it to the final level. “Level 10. You can cum now, Shoto.” You press it onto his leaking head and use your other hand to pump his shaft.

He mewls at your new touch and arches his back. “Thank you. Thank you. Oh god, I'm cumming! Fuck!” His eyes roll back and spurts of cum come flying out, some landing on his stomach and others on your hand and the wand. He turns his head and screams into the pillow, trained to do this instinctually, because of the heavy noise complaints you have received about your boyfriend.

You stroke him through it until his breath hitches and he begins to squirm away from the vibrator. You pull it away and turn it off, placing it to the side.

You look at the cum covering your hand and his body and sigh, before scooping some off his stomach and bringing your fingers to Shotos mouth. “Open.” He immediately does and you drag your fingers along his tongue.

When you pull away he closes his mouth and swallows, wincing in the process. “Gross.”

You chuckle at him and nod. “Maybe you should eat better,” You tease, coaxing him back into the real world, before moving forward to fix his hair. He leans into the touch and you begin to separate the white strands from the red. What you always do as a part of your aftercare process.

“So, do you like the wand now?”

He looks at you and nods, before burying his face into your neck. “Level ten is my favorite.”

[fnsm008]

omg but imagine secretly giving the mha boys aphrodisiac chocolate and seeing how they react..

No but you’re RIGHT…. ( ੭ ˙ᗜ˙ )੭

𝛏 Master List Link 𝛏

Katsuki would stare at you with narrowed eyes when you hold your hand out and offer the piece of chocolate to him, your gaze wide and innocent until he pops the candy in his mouth.

Katsuki would be in a meeting not too long after, jaw clenched and teeth creaking when his uniform pants get too fucking snug for no reason. His cheeks will flush bubblegum pink, biting the head off of some hero he can’t remember the name of when asked what’s wrong.

Why the fuck can he only picture you face down and ass up in the air?

Why does he have to sink his nails into his thighs to hang onto his last thread of self control and restrain himself from palming his stiff cock when he thinks of your pussy split open for him?

Why the hell is sweat running down his temples and along his jaw like a goddamn river??

He doesn’t know.

What he is certain of, is his plan to tackle you to the bed as soon as he gets home. To cum the second he slides his achy cock inside your tight pussy, and then to fuck you until neither of you can stand to climax one more time.

Eijirou would happily accept the chocolate, humming in delight once he begins chewing.

Eijirou would then be relaxing with you on the couch, using every ounce of willpower to concentrate on the movie you’re watching together. His cheeks would turn as scarlet as his hair and he’d try to hide his face with the loose strands when you glance at him.

He’d squeak out that’s he’s fine when you ask if he’s feeling feverish. He’ll clumsily cover his cock with large hands, knees knocking into one another when he tries to close his legs.

Eijirou would whimper in your ear “fuck, I’m sorry baby, I need your pussy. I can’t stop myself,” as he gives in to the heat churning in his belly and bends you over the armrest of your couch to fuck you like a dog.

You’ll babble and gasp it’s okay, crying out his name when he makes you orgasm for what feels like the hundredth time — only for his dick to remain hot and full after he’s already cum inside you so much that you’re sure you’re going to get pregnant.

Shouto would take a bit more convincing. He doesn’t ordinarily eat chocolate, but he’s willing to try it if you’re the one presenting it to him.

Shouto would be leisurely walking alongside you in the grocery store, occasionally making noises of agreement as you tell him about your day.

Shouto would suddenly freeze mid stride, becoming rigid in the middle of the aisle. He’ll blink owlish eyes at you several times when you turn back to question what he’s doing.

You’ll snap your fingers to get his attention when he starts to stare at the swell of your tits for way too long instead of listening to you, cheeks filling out with a blush when he meets your gaze.

The next thing you know, your half full grocery cart is abandoned in the aisle and you’re yanked by the wrist back to your car in the parking lot.

Shouto would mutter breathlessly “sorry baby, I can’t seem to control myself,” when he gets your pants off, leaving the material to dangle from one ankle before tugging you down to straddle his lap in the backseat.

He’ll unbutton his pants and shove them down far enough to free himself, not bothering with your panties and sliding them to the side as he sits you down on his cock and let’s out a low moan.

Shouto will match your every move, thrusting upwards harshly each time you sit down. He won’t give a single fuck if someone walks past the car, he just knows he needs your pussy to keep swallowing his cock until the insatiable burn in his lower belly subsides.

It takes…awhile.

[fnsm008]

looking glass | (s)

apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!

pairing: shoto todoroki x reader

words: 5.7k

prompt: "moving into a new apartment and realizing they can see directly into their neighbor’s window"

warnings: strangers to lovers, masturbation, mild pervert!todoroki, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, alcohol

Shoto had decided to move. He had to get away from it all, and his only option post-college was to find an apartment where he could heal from all his trauma in peace. The moving-in process had been grand, Midoriya had come by, and he was always such a great friend. Even some ex-classmates had come by, with welcoming gifts or a helping hand. Even Bakugou had paid a visit with Kirishima, and the distance was starting to seem not so bad now that he was settled into his one-bedroom apartment.

Things were looking up! Job security, a new place, and lots of people to meet. It even felt a bit exciting. A new chapter.

“So you’re single?”

The apartment complex had its pitfalls, namely the single women that had spotted an attractive bachelor on their radar and were quick to bomb-rush him with questions. Was he single? Was he set to be married? Married in the past? Looking for that special someone?

An older woman, Miyako, had come with onigiri and many questions. Some bordered on creepy, but Todoroki had difficult time saying “go away” to people who didn’t deserve it. He’d come a long way from his teenage years; he had to be better now.

“I’m just going about life right now, er; I’ll let you know?”

Miyako looked thrilled to have caught Shoto’s attention, but it was beginning to feel embarrassing when he only wanted to take out the trash.

“Oh, that’s great! Believe me, my husband is always gone, so if I never need… help, I know how to find you!”

It seemed a bit distasteful that she’d tried lowering her eyes and rubbing her lips together as if he’d get with a married woman. Gosh, imagine the drama. Todoroki took a look around, and most people were leaving for work. He probably shouldn’t be seen with this lady like this.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly handy, though. Uhm, I hope it all works out,” and Todoroki's taking the tray from her hands, “and thank you for the onigiri.”

She follows his steps as he moves backward, “Oh, but are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

An angelic voice floats out from behind him. It’s the smoothest voice he’s ever heard.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Miyako!”

He was thankful someone had come to put this cougar to rest, but as he turned towards the sound of the voice… he thought he could hear bells in the distance. Have you always been living here? Are you a guardian angel striking a pose on Earth? Why hadn’t he gotten to see you earlier?

“Oh, I’m just checking up on him!” 

She dares to pinch his cheek, and he can feel it grow warm under her manicured nails, “isn’t he so cute?”

“Soooo cute,” and you offer a small wave, “Hi there.”

He doesn’t take your lack of a compliment to heart, waving back and noting your name. It was pretty, and it fits you perfectly. So did the suit you were wearing, the blazer buttoned to accentuate curves, and you still managed to adorn yourself with gold jewelry without losing your air of professionalism.

“Well, I have to go,” Miyako rests a hand on his, whispering, “Enjoy the onigiri.”

“Thanks.”

She gives a pleasant goodbye to you, and you’re approaching closer as she walks away.

“Got caught by Miyako, huh?”

“Well, I guess. I was taking out my trash, and then she asked all these questions with the tray of onigiri; I couldn’t tell her to go away.”

“You should! She goes after nearly every bachelor that moves here but don’t try it. I’ve seen too many guys get beaten to a pulp by her husband; it’s a dangerous game.”

“Oh, oh no. I wasn’t going to–”

“I didn’t think you would,” and you have the confidence to give him a wink, “you just moved here a couple weeks ago, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m apartment 438. Where are you?”

“Oh, just across from the other side, but there’s never any parking over there! I really am only over here for work,” you gesture to yourself with a small shrug, “law firm.”

Ah, so that’s the reason for the briefcase. He gives a small smile in return. Has he been nervous this entire time?

“Well, government job. So, we’re in the same boat.”

“Hah! I guess so. If you’re ever in trouble, then call me! Unless it’s something pretty bad, I just do real estate stuff.”

“Real estate?”

“You don’t have to pretend to be interested in it! But it’s not bad, not like you think.”

“No, I wasn’t lying. I could never go through law school; that’s very admirable.”

He’s pleased that your cheeks lift unconsciously, murmuring a “thank you.”

The two of you linger in the presence of each other for a minute or two longer, but it feels like ages as the breeze brushes past the two of you under the sun's warmth. You’re the first to break, sighing and offering your hand, “I’ve gotta go, but it was so nice to meet you!”

Your hand is soft, not scarred like his that came from years of working out and being rougher in his younger years. Electricity raves through his veins when you give him a firm shake.

“Yes, you too. Have a good day at work,” he feels his cheeks burn unconsciously at the statement, fingers curling around the onigiri like a lifeline.

“I’ll need it!”

He tries not to watch you get into your gray Toyota, so he busies himself with inspecting the gift he was given till he hears your engine rev. The last look he gives you wasn’t meant to feel like he was yearning to talk to you more, but he’s afraid it does when he catches your eye, and you only smile.

The apartment is cozy, but as he eats his onigiri, he wonders if you’d want to share some with him sometime.

“I’m getting too wrapped up in this,” he mumbles at the small island in his kitchen, “I’ve got to get to work.”

It’s a slow work day.

-

“A lady? Who’d you meet? That’s great, Todoroki!”

Midoriya blabbers eagerly to him over the phone, having to catch up on each other’s lives, “Yeah, she saved me from some old lady. She was hitting on me.”

“An old woman!? Wow, was she the one who gave you onigiri?”

“Yup.”

“Wow! Gosh, I can’t believe it! I mean, didn’t you say she was married?! That’s just crazy, Todoroki. I don’t know what I’d do!”

“She was not going to leave me alone,” he stirs a pot of marinara sauce lazily, “but everyone here is very nice.”

He doesn’t say your name, but he means you.

“Mhm, that’s good. Uraraka and I have been good. We’re looking at buying a house!”

“Right, how’s that going?”

He’s able to lose himself in the conversation and dinner-making. It’s peaceful; it feels like home. His lights are low, which adds to the lighting, and he can’t help but feel lonely. Usually, at home, he’d smell the soft perfume of his mother or the sizzle of food from Fuyumi. 

Todoroki tried to put the lost memories out of his mind. Midoriya was here, and he supposed that was never a sad thing.

“Sounds like you guys have a plan,” the sauce is nearly done, and he finally takes a second to rest against the counter, “I think it’s going to go great. I can always help you with moving when the time comes.”

“Thank you so much! I think we’re pretty steady on what we wanna do….”

It only takes a flickering gaze around the room to cause Todoroki to be shaken to his core. He ended up with a nice balcony in his apartment and opted for curtains during move-in. 

This time though, this evening, he’d left them wide open. Wide open and exposed directly to your apartment. You were not only inside but walking around half-naked.

“Todoroki?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Oh! I was just saying would you prefer gray walls or white ones? We still can’t decide.”

Picking up your living room is a menial task to you, but not to the man drooling over how you bend over and how your panties outline the plush fat of your ass. White panties with lace.

“...White is good, maybe a bit off-white.”

“That’s what I was thinking!”

The sauce starts to boil over, “shit!”

“Is everything okay?”

He’s got his phone trapped between his shoulder and ear, rushing to turn down the heat and making quick glances at the sliding doors, “Yeah! Yeah, everything’s fine. My dinner’s ready; I have to go.”

“Okay! Hope it’s super good; talk to you later! Bye.”

“Yup, thanks. Bye.”

The phone is slid away on the counter, the sauce is lowered to a medium-low, and his eyes are finally free to enjoy the show that’s been stirring guilt and arousal in his gut. You look good. More than good, so good that he can’t be bothered to turn away in shame. He’s locked in, and you have no idea what you’re doing as your prance around your living room. 

You’re just cleaning up. No big deal, but it feels like something is watching your every movement. It only clicks once you reach the sliding glass door to see Todoroki’s “empty” apartment gazing back at you. It makes sense now; you must’ve been putting on a grand show for him while doing your chores.

Something in your brain whispers an idea to you. One that makes you want to go “Eureka!”

It’s a bad idea, an awful idea, to not shut the curtains. However… How often do you get to tease an attractive man? How often do you get to enthrall someone in your figure, your body? It’s an awful idea to turn around and take a nice long stretch down to your toes, but you don’t care.

Maybe he’s imagining filling you up or getting off to the fact that you think he’s not watching. The thought strangely excites you. Sure, it’s immoral, but the fact that eyes are tracking your every curve and committing them to memory is so alluring. You’re definitely going to use your vibrator later. 

Todoroki’s hard in his sweatpants; the indentation is practically obscene. A flush spreads through his body, making him unbearably hot. There’s a weird other being inside him that wants to march over to your door and fuck you till you love him. But… he’s being a creep. You’d be scared, uncomfortable! He would never in a million years try to do something to you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t drink in a long look at your plump ass practically in his face. 

But then you do something unexpected; you turn around. Todoroki's reflexes are fast, and the minute your leg bends, he’s acutely aware that if he doesn’t move, he’s going to get caught! Two-toned hair dives towards the floor, the thump definitely irritating his downstairs neighbors as he crawls till he’s behind his sofa and safely able to peer his eyes around the arm.

You look askance like you’re waiting to see something. Todoroki watches you wait a minute more before stepping forward and swiftly tugging the curtains shut. The show’s over, but his cock is still hard in his boxers, and Todoroki thinks it might be time for a shower. 

He fists his cock needily under the warm water, breathing your name in soft exhales as he works himself to the end. The cum splatters lewdly against the tiles, and he’s shocked to find his knees weak. What were you doing to him?

Neither of you sees each other again for a while. Your work takes up so much of your time, and your heart withers watching the daylight pass by in your office. Todoroki has been busy, too, he’s closer to the heart of the city, and the daily commute has worn him thin. It’s exhausting, and the two of you are not even the slightest bit excited to read the flier posted up on your doors.

[SHIKETSU COMPLEX MONTHLY BARBECUE AND PICNIC!]

Todoroki’s eyes are assaulted by the bright colors that jump out at him. There are many reasons not to go. He is so tired, Miyako might be there, he doesn’t know anyone like that, he has no kids, he doesn’t know how to barbecue…

His mind keeps circling back to you like a train stuck in a loop on the track. It’s unbelievable that he’s rationalizing attending this event just because he thinks you might be there. You probably won’t go; why would you? You’re way too busy. He tries to convince himself to walk back to the apartment as he makes his way to the barbecue. You won’t be there; he’s an idiot.

Yet there you are, under the hot sun shining in a warm yellow sundress that contrasts your brown skin beautifully. You’ve adorned yourself with gold jewelry again. His heart flutters in his chest. Todoroki can’t believe he’s there and that you were there too.

“Hello, handsome,” you smile warmly as he approaches a picnic table with pre-made potato salad, “did you make this?”

“Huh? Hello, and I-uh, well,” he’s unsure whether to lie or tell the truth, “I don’t know!”

He’s lucky he’s handsome because you laugh lightly and point to the artichoke dip, “Honestly, I don’t know if I made that either,” and then you’re humming with a warm hand on his shoulder, “unless you’re a secret housewife, no one cares that the bachelor doesn’t know how to cook.”

“Is that really my nickname?”

“To some, yeah. Especially Miyako; I swear she’s been trying to scout you out from when you arrived. She’s here with her husband and kids too! She has no shame.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty weird. How have you been, by the way?”

There’s a clear elephant in the room to him; he can’t get your body out of his head. His senses go haywire every time you move, flashing a show of skin. Hopefully, you have no idea.

“Oh, good! Good, just working. I haven’t seen you around often these days; early commute?”

“Mhm, it takes up a lot of time. I don’t mind being in the city, but it’s hard to come back home and do it all over again,” he smiles warmly, “I feel jealous of you.”

“Oh, trust me, once you’re spending long hours in an office and leaving when the sun’s down, you won’t be saying that anymore!”

It’s just a friendly neighbor chat, but it comes so easily for the two of you. It’s not like you guys are chatting for the second time ever, but as if you’ve been friends for years, getting caught up in reminiscing. You launch the dice, scoring snake eyes.

“Hey, I know you mentioned you weren’t too handy the last time we talked, but how are you with electronics? Televisions?”

“I-I used to live in a dorm, so I know a little. Is something wrong?”

“My tv has been having connective issues! I don’t know what the problem is, but I was hoping you might be able to come and look at it whenever you’re free.”

He’s being baited like a shark; he knows this too well. It’s an extremely attractive olive branch. At this point, it’s not even a branch but a whole Garden of Eden planted by you for him. He can’t wait to bite the apple.

Todoroki nods genially, “Of course, I can take a quick look at it. No promises if I don’t know what to do; I’m not an expert.”

You’re sipping your cocktail with a coy look, “I’m sure you’re an expert in other things. If you watch something enough, you’ll eventually pick it up.”

The comment makes Todoroki go stock still, eyes blown out and face deadly pale as you shrug up at him. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but you’re waltzing away to engage with some of the mothers. That had to be a dig; you had to know what he did that evening. Maybe inviting him over was a plot to kill him for being a spying creep. 

Then there’s the chance that you… liked it. It feels impossible to even consider that option, but it was clear that you weren’t exactly mad. You would’ve confronted him straight away; he’s sure of that. So, what was he to do? Pretend to be innocent? Tell you that he thought you were extremely beautiful and sexy, so much so that he watched you through your window while you weren’t wearing clothes?

A man offers him a beer; Togami, he says. Todoroki is left to sip the acrid drink and ponder whether he should skip town. 

You keep looking at him, and you know the other moms are starting to notice your wandering eye fixated on the lone wolf. Aka, a mother of two, grins eagerly, “See something you like? Ah, young love!”

“It’s not young love. We’ve barely talked, Aka.”

Mayumi chimes in, “Really? It looks like he wants to talk to you; every time you look away, he looks back at you!”

“Are you being serious? You guys are crazy; nothing is going on!”

They’re swirling around you like viper snakes. Their lives are so consumed by their children that they see themselves in you, and they’re poking and prodding like you’re their next do-over, “Why don’t you talk to him?”

“I actually did, Mayumi,” you shrug, “it was good! Nothing crazy, not like how I know you guys are thinking. What dirty minds!”

Obviously, the mothers were gossipy, but you wonder if maybe he needed an extra push. Due to your line of work, you were familiar with pushing someone right till they crack like an egg. You’d left him looking like a sorrowful puppy, and the alcoholic drinks were brewing fiercely in your tummy. Liquid courage runs through you, and you set your margarita down to smooth out your dress.

Maybe they were right; maybe you should do something. Prod him a bit.

“I’m going to be right back,” you mumble to the gaggle of women that debate the current happenings of Ema, a new mom that entered the block and seemed desperate to wreak havoc. You’d met her, and she was actually quite nice. 

But that’s not the point. No, you’re straightening your posture and sauntering over with a sway of your hips. You were going to do this.

Your eyes are locked onto Todoroki’s figure as you confidently walk towards him, “Todoroki! Are you getting ready to head out?”

He gives you a small nod, looking around before nudging you, “It looks about time. Are you?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I am. I’m looking forward to just straight-up relaxing.”

“Right,” and he seems to be brimming with liquid confidence as well because he offers, “Do you want me to walk you back?”

It feels weird to be asked that; it’s not a direct question but an offering. Despite that, though, there’s a feeling bubbling underneath the surface. Both of you know that you could give in right here and now, forgo the traditional courting and go straight to fucking like wild animals. 

“Gladly, thank you,” he follows with you leading the way, “I think you fit in well.”

“Huh?”

“I said, I think you fit in well. In the neighborhood, you really round it all out. Plus, everyone likes you.”

“Not everyone,” his face tinges pink, so cute.

“Yeah, yeah,” stopping at the steps to my door, you shrug at him, “Do you want to come inside for a second?”

It’s another checkpoint. Another moment that makes one pause and think, “Is this it?” Another moment Todoroki barrels through, eagerly accepting the invitation and kicking his shoes off at the front of your home.

He seems to really take in your apartment as you scurry to make a polite pot of tea. Heterochromatic eyes sweep over the large glass doors; he doesn’t hide his open gawking. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth while pouring boiling water over tea leaves, “I take it to mean you like my apartment?”

“Like? I-I mean, it’s….”

Todoroki trails off, honing in on the pictures on the mantle.

“It’s very homely,” he turns back to look at you, smiling softly, “It looks great.”

“Ah, thank you. Tea?”

The man gladly takes it, and you can feel the lingering warmth of his comments as you chit-chat. You wonder what he’s thinking; his curiosity is on full display. You could come up with a few ideas. Before you know it, Todoroki is checking his watch and giving you a straight face.

“It’s getting late,” his cheeks twitch to a frown before remaining neutral, “but it was really nice to spend time together.”

Does everything he says have romantic undertones? You nod, covering your flushing cheeks with a hand before an idea strikes you. It slips out on accident; you didn’t mean for it to come out, really!

“I agree,” and the bomb drops, “I’d expect a great view from your window tonight.”

Your eyes flicker to his darkly. He’s swallowing, staring at you like a piece of meat as you lay the trap out for him. Neither of you says anything; what should you say? One of you could be bold, could prompt a kiss or more, but you don’t. Todoroki gives a light laugh, gathering his things with a lingering hand ghosting the small of your back as you escort him out.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs lowly, and you think you could kiss him.

“Goodnight!” the door locks with a click.

Todoroki sits patiently like it's a movie theater where he's waiting for his favorite film. It’s dazzling how the curtains peel back to show your partially clothed body facing away from the glass. You only have the kitchen light on, illuminating your soft curves and tan skin better than any ring light could. Todoroki sits in the darkness, not wanting to be seen but to watch. To be an active audience member as his hand trails down to grip and stroke his cock.

Swaying your hips, Todoroki finally gets a glimpse of your sweet face. It’s different from earlier. It was much more innocent before, truly the girl next door type. But this, this? You were something absolutely out of this world; he noted it in the way your eyelids lowered as you salaciously gripped your vibrator or even the way your lingerie left nothing to the imagination.

“Fuck…” he spoke to the quiet air.

He couldn’t hear you, but it was enough to see you. Starting slowly by groping your chest, nipples peeking through the lace of your bra as his eyes continuously dip down to your pussy. Covered, but if he squinted, Todoroki thought he could see your wetness starting to soak through.

You moan, hips twitching as you tug your nipple a bit harsher than the last time. Soft lips part to breathe as a hand snakes down the valley between your breasts and down the slope of your stomach. Manicured nails stop at the waistband of your panties; your eyes seem to search across the darkness for the sight of your lover boy. For a second, you think you see a turquoise eye in the darkness as your fingers make quick work on your clit.

You both know you’re staring right at each other, and neither can look away as your hands cover themselves in slickness and arousal. It’s heady and so risky with such open windows, and yet your orgasms are driving you toward the edge faster than you’ve ever felt before.

“God, I wish I could feel you,” Todoroki groans, thumb rubbing the slit and feeling his abs tighten, “I need you.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum Todoroki,” you pant into the open air, squirming and fucking yourself on your fingers and toy.

It comes all at once, spurting onto the web of his thumb and fingers as Todoroki cums to your wriggling form. It overwhelms you, too, body arching and seemingly bursting with pleasure when you reach your peak. You both came quicker than expected, your legs falling closed as you steadied your breathing. Even under the low light, the clear droplets of your arousal staining the carpet makes Todoroki’s balls ache.

You’ve won again. You’ve once again captured the heart and dick of Shoto Todoroki, and he can feel the feelings ruminating inside him as you playfully clean up your living room. His eyes track your figure like he’ll forget you the minute he blinks. This can’t go on any longer; both of you know this. But then you’re drawing the curtains, and the show ends.

By the evening, Todoroki sets a plan to get exactly what he wants. And you’re none the wiser.

It’s been a while since the two of you had crossed paths. Your work has stolen your energy, leaving you to come home exhausted and weary every day. Normally you’d perk up at seeing the boy you’d come to feel warmth for if you even caught him, but his life seemed to be getting in the way. He always kept his curtains closed these days.

Then, you notice it on your day off, cozy in a sweatsuit with a mug of steaming coffee. The curtains are open, which leaves his apartment looking like a ghost town. It’s been a moment since you’ve seen the light filter in like that since you’ve felt that familiar feeling brewing at the bottom of your stomach.

Your body sits on the plush couch, sipping your drink and waiting patiently. You’re giddy as Todoroki walks into view. The show is about to start, and unlike you, he’s making sure to give an eyeful. He’s never looked more confident; in fact, he’s never put himself on display like this.

Was he really doing this all for you?

The thought is forgotten as a black t-shirt is peeled off to show rippling muscles and brown nipples that pebbled as he rubbed over his chest. He was carved to perfection, maybe by God himself. Todoroki starts slow, blunt nails scratching lightly over his pecs, down his abs, and stopping at the band of his sweatpants.

He looks up at you through his bangs and your pussy throbs. The man flicks his hair back, hand gliding and palming his cock over the thick fabric. Todoroki must’ve already worked himself up, you note as you watch his half-hard cock create a sizable imprint in his sweats.

You’re biting your lip, trying not to reach down and touch yourself. He looks so enticing. Part of you wants to jump up and break down his door, pulling him into a sharp kiss as he…

Todoroki moans behind the glass, head tilting back as his Adam’s apple bobs. You can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but it’s enough to make you feel… hot. Almost angry, he had the nerve to touch himself in front of you yet play shy when you were face to face. If he was going to be so bold as to unashamedly stroke himself, you’d be even bolder by darting up out of your seat and running out the front door.

You miss his smirk as he pulls on his shirt and waits for the piercing sound of your knuckles rapping against the door. After a moment, he hears it and steadily opens it with a teasing smile.

“Hello,” he greets casually, despite the erection straining the front of his pants.

Neither of you can wait anymore as you nearly tackle him with a kiss. He easily holds you, big hands cupping your waist and pawing at your ass. It’s desperate; it’s passionate. Todoroki grunts as his back hits his kitchen island, “do you wanna do this right now?”

“I don’t think I can wait,” your lips graze over him, “I know you need me.”

Todoroki pulls you closer till his leg slides between yours. The small motion makes you lose focus at the delicious pressure against your clit; your arms delicately wind around his broad shoulders as he bruises your lips with another kiss.

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he murmurs, spit slicking his lips.

  His tongue, pink and sweet, glides over yours like butter. The two of you fight to win, each trying to usurp the power of the other and take control. You scratch against his back, Todoroki presses his leg against your soaked pussy, and your hand sneaks down to squeeze his cock that soaks pre-cum into his boxers. 

At some point, it goes from a battle to simply indulging in the good feelings. Saliva pools in your mouth as you dry-hump each other like animals. Whimpers echo in the air, but he caves first.

“Wait,” he pauses, chest heaving and lips glossy, “let me…”

The small of your back meets the counter before Todoroki captures your lips in another kiss. He’s grown confident, fingers cradling your wrist and hands fondling your tits.

“Ah! Todoroki,” your body melts easily into his palm, “take me, god. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

“Have you? I think I’ve waited for longer,” his teeth graze over the curve of your neck, “you started it.”

His hands expertly sneak up your shirt within minutes; it makes you wonder what else he’s hiding from you. Your fingers curl into his hair easily. Tugging lightly, the pleasure and blushed face of the man before you made your core throb.

“Then let me finish it,” you murmur softly, hand sliding down to his sweatpants.

“Mhm,” the two of you stare at each other as your hand slides past the cotton barriers to touch smooth, hot skin.

Then, his eyes look blown out, and his hands are spinning you around so fast you nearly get whiplash. Excitement shakes through your body like bursting fireworks as you help tug down your bottoms. 

Large hands eagerly spread your ass, Todoroki watching your hole clench and drip arousal down your thigh. His mouth instinctually waters, and his knees want to give in. You would taste so sweet. Todoroki can’t keep his eyes off your drooling pussy. You’re mewling, though, impatient as a thumb runs over your slit before rubbing tight circles against your clit, “You’re so beautiful.”

He slips a finger in, leaving your words choked and broken, “T-thank you.”

“Of course, baby,” he hopes the nickname lands, “oh, you liked that.”

It’s embarrassing to hear the squelch of his fingers inside you. You clench easily at his motions when he flicks his fingers up harshly or calls you such sweet names. Even he chuckles at your obvious arousal.

“Shut the hell up…!

You still squeak as he fingers your cunt. His fingers are reaching spots that even yours couldn’t; it feels so good. One hand of his keeps you pinned by the small of your back while the other eagerly reveals the wet and clicking sounds of your pussy.

“I wouldn’t be so rude.”

The smack against your ass makes stars burst behind your eyes. You could cum like this in minutes.

“Please, Todoroki,” you weakly beg for mercy, needing nothing more than to feel the primal thrusts of him fucking his cum into you.

“Fuck,” he breathes into your neck, “I need to fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you do,” breathless, you go up on your tiptoes, “Please fuck me, Todoroki.”

He hadn’t even prompted you to beg, yet you acted perfectly like his own awaiting toy. Todoroki can’t line himself up against you fast enough, blunt head pressing against your needy hole while you try to breathe through the inevitable stretch.

You were prepared well. The stretch of his cock as he slowly slides into you feels like magic, and you’re keening like you’re in heat. It’s hot, overwhelming, it smells like his apartment, and he was balls deep inside of you.

“Aah, fuck,” his voice warbles, fingers leaving clear prints on your rounded hips.

“So good, god, so good!”

There’s a soft “pap” when his hips meet yours, but then he’s immediately diving into both of your pleasures. He dials in with thrusts, shaking you and churning your insides while you can only grab for purchase against the counter.

It leaves you breathless, and you’re squeezing like a vice around him as he pumps in and out of you. It’s a delicious rhythm; the push and pull are so terribly addicting that you can feel the swirl of your orgasm at the pit of your stomach.

“You’re squeezing me so tight; gonna cum? Gonna cum all over my cock?”

You babble nonsensically as he reaches around to rub your clit. His hands slip over your clit, but he can see your manicured toes curling as he makes you succumb to him.

“Todoroki, Todoroki! I’m cumming–oh god, I-I’m cumming!”

For a minute, everything goes blank. As if you’ve been flashbang.

“Good girl,” Todoroki whispers in the shell of his ear as he chases his own pleasure, “You’re so good for me.”

It crashes down onto you hard. Your entire body trembles, muscles locking up as you cum hard, creaming on him as he watches in awe. Todoroki releases a heavy groan as he finally fills you. It’s white-hot, and he heaves over you. His heavy body completely smothers you in a way that feels reassuring. In a way that feels loving.

The two of you lay still in the post-coital glow, catching your breaths and murmuring soft words. “Let me get you a tissue,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

You’re unsure why your heart aches as he cleans up your tender pussy and picks up your bottoms.

“Hey, you know I….”

Todoroki raises an eyebrow as you trail off.

“I’m not that kind of woman,” you say with an air of finality, “just so you know.”

The man before you blinks before giving you a genuine smile.

“I never thought you were.”

You leave soon after, giving him a sweet kiss and quickly bounding to your apartment. In the evening, Todoroki catches you crossing your living room. You pause, smiling, before blowing a kiss and shutting the blinds.

[fnsm008]

synopsis: scaramouche always has a way of getting what he wants

cws: dubcon, coercion, “just the tip”, creampie, afab!reader

word count: 900+

scaramouche’s eyes couldn’t stay on one spot, flickering all over the place to take in as much of your form as possible. he wasn’t sure how the two of you had ended up like this but he sure as hell isn’t complaining, especially not after he’s spent years fantasizing about this very moment. all those nights of slipping a mirror through the tiny crack under your door, all those nights of resting his ear against the thin wall of your room, all those nights of waking up in a sweat drenched shirt and cum stained shorts.

it’s better than anything his twisted little mind could’ve thought up—you sound better than he imagined, you looked better than he imagined, you taste better than he imagined. and he’s certain you’ll feel better than he imagined as well. with the base of his cock rubbing against your slick folds, he can feel the way your puffy cunt keeps twitching and throbbing around nothing and he’s so tempted to just push it in. you wouldn’t mind, right? he’s already made you cum three times, surely you can let him have the same delicious release! doesn’t matter that you think he’s too thick, he deserves this.

he presses his pretty, pink tip into your hole, his greedy eyes locked onto the way it stretches open for him. “baby, even your pussy wants me to put it in,” he coos, looking back up to your face, “c’mon, please?” he can see the hesitation in your features as if you’re considering it but what’s there to consider? just let him fuck you already—it’ll feel good, he promises! he slides his tip upward, rubbing and tapping it against your swollen clit a few times before slowly tapping it up and down the entirety of your vulva and making sure to amplify the pressure just a tiny bit whenever his tip knocks against your opening. “just the tip? is that okay, baby? lemme just put the tip in.”

you give him a hesitant nod and he’s immediately tapping his tip against your hole again, eyes glued onto the thin strings of your slick that connects him to you. he feels like he’s drooling just as much as your pussy is as he watches your cunt suck him in a tiny bit only for him to pull right back out. the sounds of your wetness causes you to tighten up, forcing him to groan when your walls shut around the very tip of his cock, “f-fuck, baby.. ‘m sorry.”

you’re too fucked out to register his words, the feeling of your pussy being stretched out little by little as he slowly fucks more and more of his tip into you feels so good it numbs your mind. he looks down, admiring the way his tip is entirely hidden inside you for a moment before pulling out and slowly pushing back in, the action being repeated and forming a creamy ring around the area just under his tip. “baby..” he groans softly, looking back up at you to see your glazed-over eyes. you’re completely fucked out just from his tip alone and he can’t help his urges anymore.

with each draw of his hips as he pulls himself out from you, he slowly pushes himself in more and more. watching as more of his cock disappears into your cunt, the creamy ring from earlier slowly creeping down his shaft, his hands find purchase on your waist in a greedy attempt to slowly pull your hips closer to his until eventually your skin meets his own.

you’re only able to utter out a soft mewl, pressing your hands against his stomach in a poor attempt to push him away but he gently guides your hands above your head and holds you by your wrists. “shh, my love—don’t you like it? my cock feels just as good as your pussy,” he coos, an innocent look in his eyes. he deserves this, don’t you think?

too fucked out—your mind and judgment clouded by the pleasurable fullness his cock gives you—you let out one final whine and go slack under him, no longer struggling against him as he brings his hips back only to push back in. a breathy gasp leaves your mouth, a shaky groan leaving his as he pushes himself all the way in to kiss your cervix. leaning down, scaramouche takes your lips into a sloppy kiss as his hips start their own pace, his cock rapidly rubbing against your walls as he fucks you.

you cry into the kiss, the gasps and whines matching each of his thrusts as the pain slowly subsides into pleasure until eventually your mind buzzes with pure ecstasy. your vision blurs as scaramouche continues to fuck you brainless, his smirk going unnoticed by you as you lose your mind on his dick—the pleasure completely obliterating your judgement.

“fuck, your pussy is begging me to cum inside and who am i to deny?” he chuckles at the way you’re too fucked out to register his words, picking up his pace as you twitch and cream around his cock until he gives you one last thrust. his cock slams roughly into you and poking into the entrance of your womb as his cum spills and fills you deliciously yet you’re still too much of a mess to respond. he’s sure you won’t mind though—he does deserves this afterall.

[fnsm008]

ʚ I worship you

ʚ BEFORE READING: im still kinda mia, dont expect much

ʚ WARNINGS: chiscara, afab scara but its not mentioned much, very soft fic, bit of worship stuff going on. not very sex focused, more emotions. i didnt proof read.

That stupid ginger.

The way he stood there so confidently, so smugly all while being the lowest ranking of them all, with that stupid look of devotion in his eyes as he looked up at the Tsaritsa.

It ignited something in Scaramouche. Jealousy? Arousal? That couldn’t be. He’d long forgotten his filthy human emotions and desires, right?

That’s what he told himself at least, told everyone. Yet here he was.

Heavy breathes mingling, clothes strewn about his private quarter’s without a care. Another night of fucking his frustration out with none other than the ginger he despised so much but also so desperately wanted.

“Scara-“ childe said breathily, each word laced with desperation as he gazed up at Scaramouche, watching the way the he rode him. The soft bounce of his hair, the look of concentration mixed with pleasure.

“Shut up.” The smaller man said harshly, but quietly as he tried to keep control of himself and the situation at hand.

He knew how risky this was, how dangerous emotions could be, and how he would fall apart if he saw that look on Childe’s eyes.

That look of devotion, of worship and pleasure. The look childe carried in his eyes everytime the two of them were here. The look that Scaramouche desperately searched for outside of sex, yet never seemed to find.

He hated it, how he could only be worthy of worship when it be in the sheets. Was he not enough? How could he not be enough for a mere human? He was meant to be a god, and yet he found himself feeling as though he were a mere object.

“Childe-“ he breathed out, voice shaky as he grew closer to his orgasm. He had always avoided finishing in bed, it was a risky play. It could unleash emotions he never intended to be released, and he was content in the temporary feeling of being wanted, of being needed.

Images flashed through his head, images of that damned look in Childe’s eyes, that devotion and worship. Those images mixed with the noises of their combined groans and moans of pleasure sent him over the edge.

His eyes shot open as he came, sweet moans of release escaping his lips as he looked down at Childe, and he had that look of worship. Of course he did, and he could see an extra level of satisfaction beneath those blue eyes.

Childe placed his hands on Scara’s hips, gently coaxing him through his orgasm and drinking in the sight of Scaramouche. The pleasure etched into every feature of his face, the rise and fall of his chest as he desperately tried to catch his breath.

“You’re beautiful like this.” The ginger said softly, though his words were still laced with the pleasure of being buried in Scaramouche.

“What?” Scaramouche said, breath catching in his throat for just a moment as he tried to register what was just said to him. 

They never usually complimented one another in bed, it was always a very primal task. Merely blowing off some steam.

“I said you’re beautiful like this, Scaramouche.” He repeated so confidently, as if his words weren’t out of the ordinary. As if he meant it.

Yet he was met with silence as Scaramouche struggled to respond, usually he’d have a witty comeback, something that would put him in control again, and yet there was nothing.

Nothing but the sound of his heart racing in his ears, the warm blush on his cheeks which he couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or merely being flustered.

Their short silence was broke by Childe wrapping his arms around Scara’s waist and pulling him close, holding him against his chest as he began moving again.

Scaramouche bit back a moan, feeling incredibly sensitive from his previous orgasm but also feeling a rush of emotions from being held in such an intimate way. It felt warm and comforting, enough so for tears to prick at the corner of his eyes.

“Childe-“ he whispered against neck as his walls began to crumble, returning the embrace with an almost desperate touch, like he had been waiting years for this moment. 

The grip around his waist tightened as Childe began peppering kisses on scara’s head, every soft kiss sending bouts of confusion and desire through Scaramouche.

It was like they were both waiting for this moment, for just one moment of clarity. Where they weren’t driven by primal desires, by a need for release, but instead driven by something else, something neither of them had yet to admit.

“I’m close-“ 

Scaramouche hesitated for a short moment before speaking, sitting up slightly so he could look at Childe’s face and gauge his reaction.

“You can… cum inside.” 

“Shit- are you sure?”

“Just cum inside.”

At this point it was a demand, a desperate pleaz Scara needed this badly, he needed to feel that connection. 

Childe moved his arms, moving to grasp and grope at Scara’s ass as he began thrusting harder and deeper into his pussy. Desperately chasing his release, desperate to finally be able to do the forbidden.

Their moans and groans of pleasure echoed through the room, the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Release steadily approaching for both of them. 

“Fuck… scara-“ he moaned out as he finally came, cumming deep inside Scaramouche’s pussy, pumping every last drop he had to offer.

A second orgasm quickly approached Scara, maybe it was the taboo of letting Childe cum inside that drove him over the edge, maybe it was the extreme emotions whirling inside him, but he couldn’t hold back his pleasure. 

They became a mess of moans and groans as pleasure wracked through each of their bodies until they slowly began to calm down, scara pulling away to sit on the edge of the bed.

It felt awkward for scaramouche, letting someone get this close to him, to go further than mere primal desires and tap into the emotions he had so desperately tried to bury. 

Yet, he felt relief.

A weight was taken from his shoulders, that Childe didn’t push him away at the sight of him letting go, he didn’t reject Scara’s touches despite the desperation in them. In fact, he embraced them.

“Scara…” 

He was ripped from his thoughts, Childe’s voice startling him almost with how soft and almost concerned it sounded.

“Scara…?” He repeated, reaching out and gently touching scara’s shoulder.

For the first time he didn’t pull away, he didn’t slap Childe’s hand away and glare at him as if he were filth. Instead he looked back at the man, and was met with those adoring eyes, the look of adoration he was so desperate for. 

“What’s with you and that look? I always see you look at the Tsaritsa that way, are you hoping to get in her bed too?” He spat, feeling his jealousy bubble up again as he remembered the way Childe would look up at her majesty so devotedly.

“What? The Tsaritsa? She’s my boss, Scaramouche.”

“If she’s your boss and you look at her the same way you look at me, then what does that make us?” 

He didn’t realise the implications of his words before it was too late.

“What doesn’t that make us?”

“That wasn’t what I meant, don’t get your hopes up.”

“I serve the Tsaritsa,” childe said as wrapped an arm around Scara’s waist, pulling him back down onto the bed and in his warm embrace.

“But I worship you.” He whispered softly against the nape of the smaller man’s neck, a confession that had long been weighing down on his shoulders.

A single tear escaped the puppets eye, then a second, then a third.

Was he worthy of someone’s worship? His own mother saw no worth in him, he was too emotional for his purpose and yet here he was. Worshiped by a man who had been given no reason to believe that Scaramouche was worthy. 

Scaramouche didn’t sob, he didn’t lash out or say anything. He just let his tears fall, closing his eyes and accepting the warmth of Childe’s embrace. It may only be temporary, but it had been too long since he had known comfort. 

The puppet fell asleep in the mans arms, weeping in his slumber, but this time he wouldn’t be discarded for it.

[fnsm008]

an 8 page comic about childe visiting scaramouche after the sumeru archon quest

Keep reading

[fnsm008]

I'm on a Todoroki brain rot right now.

Just, him being extremely sensitive and getting overstimulated until he's a flushed, crying, mewling mess begging to be fucked harder by reader.

-🧸

"Plea-please! Please! Puh-lea-ease!"

"Please what, Shouto?" The poor boy can't even answer you, not with the way his words keep becoming more and more mush in his head and his mouth only manages to babble whatever word keeps repeating itself in his mind.

More begging without any answer, just as you keep fucking into him harder and faster, deeper and suddenly so, so slow. You're dragging it out, wanting to give him time to speak properly.

"Come on, Shouto, you can do it."

But he can't. He really, really can't.

His mouth is opening and closing like a fish without water, so ridiculous that to somewhat redeem himself, he's just gasping and mouthing your name.

Your hand reaches to his wet cheek, trying your best to wipe away his tears, but by the looks of how they sizzle away, you know he's got it under control. He always knows how to.

"Are you close again?"

He nods, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch enough oxygen to maybe, just maybe, tell you how he's about to cum.

But he doesn't get to do that, not with how you lift his legs onto your shoulders, pushing forward to get to a new angle and hit his sweet spot every. single. fucking. time.

He's crying even louder now, his hands going everywhere to find something to hold on to, and a nearby pillow seemed the best. Hugging it close to his flushed chest, he feels more tears leaving his eyes, his skin on either sides reacting differently with the water. On the right, it precipitates, but on the left, they turn into ice and make small thuds next to his head.

"Cum! Cumming! Cu-umi-ing!" He barely manages to wail out, just as your hand reaches to stroke him fast, stroke him to the rhythm of your thrusts.

And he mewls so stupidly, your name falling from his lips as a prayer, as gratitude, as poetry while he lets out small spurts of cum onto his stomach, his twitching dick weeping whatever is left in him.

And when you slow to a stop, he thinks you're done, he's done, you're both done. Until he can feel pressure on his pelvis.

Until he can feel his poor, sensitive, still hard dick be enveloped by your insides, the way you clench and pulse around him enough to make him dumbly fuck up into you as best as his limp legs could.

He's mewling thank yous, whimpering how good it is, sobbing his pleas to please, pretty, pretty please ride him.

Ride him until he either burns or freezes the bed, maybe both.

Ride him until he can pass out in complete bliss.

You're barely going in for a few minutes and poor Todoroki goes through his first dry orgasm of the night, leaving him completely breathless as he screams in such a high-pitch, you didn't think it'd be possible to reach that note, especially from him.

[fnsm008]

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐 𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw . sub!shouto todoroki . fem!dom!reader . pegging . rimming . oral sex . dry orgasms . overstimulation . aftercare . general softness .

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 1.1k+

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 : 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓

His moans are starlight, a blessing to the ears as his body writhes and arches off the stark white sheets beneath his glowing body. One hand holds the white fabric with a tight grip, his fingers singing holes through it as his body is thrown into yet another mind-blowing orgasm. The tip of your thick strap abuses his fickle prostate even as he paints his chiseled stomach with cum, his narrow hips raised off the bed to meet your punishing thrusts into him.

Shouto’s half-lidded, bicolored gaze meets yours again, eyes swimming with delirious tears as your hips slow into a relaxed grind, easing him off his high. He’s wheezing so heavily you fear for his lungs, a hand coming up to stroke the length of his pretty pale throat. You feel him hum underneath your fingertips, watery lashes flittering shut for a few moments as he burns the feeling of you filling him into his memory.

Keep reading

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me when rhe when the when th plate is dead

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╰┈❥ Rody & Vincent Layouts !! ♡₊˚⊹

𖦹  ---- requested by @azuremist ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝   𖦹  ---- psds by m-lancholy & @lisbunnie-edits : ♡ ♡ ♡ 𖦹  ---- free to use with credit ! ꒷꒦⋆⑅

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◤◢◤◢◤◢ Vincent Charbonneau Theme Pack ◤◢◤◢◤◢

╋━ 001 … Unused resources , no requester . ╋━ 002 … f2u with credit , likes & rbs appreciated . ╋━ 003 … Kin / me / ID tags allowed . ╋━ 004 … Everything under cut .

◤◢◤◢◤◢ LAYOUT ◤◢◤◢◤◢

◤◢◤◢◤◢ REPLYCONS ◤◢◤◢◤◢

◤◢◤◢◤◢ DIVIDERS ◤◢◤◢◤◢

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SUPER SPEEDY & FLASHY GETAWAY DRIVER GUY !! his name is Benny 😎🦊🚗🏁💸

check out his playlist ⭐

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Collection of Rody sketches/doodles !!!

thank you guy so much for enjoying dead plate 🐶🍔💞

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DEAD PLATE OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK IS NOW AVALIABLE ON YOUTUBE AND SPOTIFY composed by our talented BellKalengar!

Below are some official Dead Plate character facts that were shared on my twitter:

RODY - has a BIG appetite - prefers fast food more than anything fancy/gourmet - rarely gets sick/cold (he'd do fine after eating spoiled food/sleeping out in rainy streets for months) - surprisingly way stronger than he looks - hates anything bitter

VINCE - favorite food is lemons because it stings his tongue in a way that vaguely resembles taste - canonically gay [though any reading through the game is valid] (art done by co-developer @ekrixart)

MANON - enjoys baking! always turns out bitter though - her parents are food critics (art done by both me and my co-developer @ekrixart)

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I was just happy to see this piece of art.

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❝ rough hands ❞ (rival bands!au)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. rival bands hobie x FTM!reader, conflicting emotions, a lot of sexual tension, a ton of mentions of hobie's hands, tw:pigs cops, being pinned down, fingering, handjob, a lot of bantering, generally just how I think sex withHobie would be, smut with a LOT of plot. the mary janes and the mutts have had a longstanding hatred for one another for years but you can't seem to resist the antics of hobie brown

wc: 4.3k

Fuck.

“They’re good.” Your drummer nudged as you and the rest of your band watched The Mary Janes perform on stage. They were opening for your performance and fuck if they weren't good at it. So much energy, such an art, you couldn't believe how fucking amazing he was on stage. Hobie Brown, the lead singer and guitarist. He was a force to be reckoned with.

You shrugged. “They're alright. Not better than us.” Your eyes narrow as they finish out their final song and Hobie takes a breath, thanking everyone for coming out. The crowd cheers, screams for him and you’re positive you can make them scream louder.

You and your band, The Mutts, move to the side as Hobie and his Mary Janes walk off stage. You catch his gaze, his smile so confident, cool, and carefree. You hate it, hate him. He doesn't say anything to you but you can see it in his eyes and the way he turns from you like he’s better than you. “You and your Mutts try to beat tha’”, his demeanor says as he walks away with his bandmates and you hate him for it.

It was a tough act to follow up. You know it as soon as you walk out on stage after your introduction. The air is hot where Hobie once stood, you can feel his energy still resonating there. You know he’s watching somewhere and you know you have to show him up for the sake of it. Your lips kiss the microphone Hobie once pressed his lips to and you hate that you can taste him there.

The crowd screamed along with the lyrics, music to your ears. How beautiful. Fucking beat that Hobie Brown.

You see him in the crowd with a drink in his hand, sipping away with a smirk on his face like something's fucking funny. If only you could slap it off his beautiful, smug face. You would as soon as you got off stage.

You and your bad breezed through your set. The crowd was alive in a way you’ve never seen before and it broke your heart to have to leave them. You turned your bass around behind your back and took a bow before thanking everyone for being such an amazing crowd for you. You watched Hobie turn and wade his way past people who slapped him on the back and feebly asked for an autograph to make his way backstage. He was undoubtedly coming just to taunt you.

As you and The Mutts came into the backstage lounge area, you departed with. “I’m going to my dressing room. I’ll see you guys in a minute.” Your drummer hummed with approval while your guitarist sent you off with a wave.

You made your way down the back all towards the dressing rooms. You opened the door only to find that Hobie was already there with his drink in hand and an insult already waiting on the tip of his tongue. “Ya slipped up there at the end. Was it cause o’ me? How unprofessional.”

“Hobie, you wouldn' know professionalism if it kicked you in the balls and told you your mother died at the same time. Get outta my face.” You sighed and reached into the pocket of your jacket for a loose lighter and a joint. You placed the joint between your lips, lit it, and took a drag. “You know whoever the club owner gives more money to tonight, he wants them to come back.”

Hobie scoffed. He sat on the mangy, gross couch as the door swung closed and you made your way over to the vanity to fix up your makeup. “O’ course ya only care ‘bout money, ‘ow contraire.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Only if yer there to kiss my arse while I do i’.”

It was usually like this. Your bands never liked each other but between them it was just glares and rough shoulder checks as the other passed. No one went at each other's throats the way you and Hobie did. You two were vicious, brutal, insults that would make the common man cry. But everyone knew better. There was a sort of camaraderie in your hatred for one another. Only you were allowed to hate him. You’d defend him with your life against someone else and in the same breath tell him his music was shit and he needed to quit.

“Either way, I’m getting that money.” Hobie settles, turning away like that’s the end of the matter. Your tongue swipes at your bottom lip before you nip it. “Says the man who plays the guitar like he can't find the clit.” You murmur and take another drag of your joint.

“Oh really?” Hobie began slowly, placing his cup down on the sticky floor before standing to his full height. He made his way over to you at the vanity, his hands grabbing the back of your chair when what he really want was to grip your shoulders, to touch you. “Would’ja like a demonstration? ‘m very good wit’ ma fingers. You know i’.” He looked at you through the mirror, leaning down so his face is next to yours.

You stare at him, search his eyes for a hint of malice or something, anything, but there's nothing but a true and genuine offer. He’d be more than happy to show exactly where your clit is.

Your lips pull into a scowl. “You’re fucking disgusting.” You say it to hide the fact that all you want is his hands on your body and those fingers to play with you the way he plays that guitar of his.

It’s the truth. You hide your burning desire for him behind your hatred, both equally as real as the other. He’s smug, shitty, sly, and sexy. You want to fuck him as much as you want to punch him, some days one more than the other.

Hobie placed his hand on your shoulders, massaging so gently. He tilted his head, placed his lips beside your ear. “Lemme know if ya ever wanna take me up on tha’ offer, dove.”

You stare at him, not sure if you want to kiss him or kill him, maybe a little bit of both. “Suck my dick, Hobie.”

“Sure, bet I can do tha’ better than ya too.”

“Get your fuckin’ hands off me and get out.”

Hobie finally relented, his hand sliding from your shoulders and back to his sides. “Fine. I’m pissin’ off. Don' forge’ ‘bout tha’ party on Saturday. Would be a damn shame if I don’ get a chance t’show ya up ‘gain.” He grabbed his drink and made his way to the door.

You couldn't stand him.

The party was already long going before you and The Mutts arrived. You were one to sniff out a good bottle of booze and went wandering to find it, your body in a perpetual state of compression by people on all sides. You wade through them with ease, leather jackets, spiked hair and all.

A proper punk party would be nothing without shitty beer and a stolen cop car to destroy.

You make your way to the center, all bats and spikes. Someone was on the hood of the car, bashing in the windshield until it completely fell through. You didn't realize it was Hobie until he hopped down from the hood and turned, grabbing the beer from your hand to take a sip. “Took ya long enough to join the party.” It seem he saw you far before you saw him.

“Can I have my shit back?” You snatched the bottle back from him. “Where the fuck did you guys get a cop car without the pigs getting on your asses?” It’s hard doing anything nowadays without the pigs sticking their ugly noses where they don't belong.

Hobie shrugged. “I ain' get i’. ‘m just here to fuck i’ up. Stop askin’ questions, are you joinin’ in or no’?”

Before either of you could do or say anything more, the car behind you was ablaze. Every window shattered, the very windshield wipers mashed through the back window, and now it was on fire. Someone had thrown a molotav cocktail inside of it and the entire thing caught on fire. Now it was a real punk party.

You figured the car would explode any time now, better to walk away before it blows and sears your eyebrows off. You take a swing from your bottle, grimacing at the bitter taste that's more akin to dog piss than anything else. Shitty bear. Proper punk.

You turn, ready to find your mates and maybe a stray joint floating around you can hog for yourself. Out in the distance you can hear the first ‘whoop’ of a police siren. You roll your eyes and finish out the rest of your beer in one gulp. “Are you fucking kidding me? I just got here.” You throw your bottle into the car fire.

The sirens come in blazing and a voice yells out that it's the cops. “Everybody scram!”

You look first for your bandmates but in a hoard like this, you’ll never find them. People are starting to run, yelling for everyone else to take off as well. They push past you while your eyes search frantically among their faces for your mates.

A hand grabs yours. You turn back to find Hobie there attempting to drag you away from where you stand in the mud. You thought he had already left, ran away with the rest of them. He was pulling you with him. “Wha’ the fuck are ya waitin’ for!?”

“My mates-”

You can see the suits approaching. They’re catching people, using batons to beat them down. They’re coming fast and you both know it. You’re panicking and Hobie’s still trying to get you to move your fucking legs.

He moves in front of you and holds your face between his large hands. “I need ya t'do me a favor and run. Ya can't help ya mates if yer dead or in a jail cell.” He pushed your shoulders, made you stumble back, snapped you out of your fixation.

You began to pick up your feet and run away. Your boots splattered in the mud, it stuck, made your feet heavier. You couldn't run as fast as normal. You’re stumbling, staggering, hands hitting the ground before pushing yourself back up. You know you’re going to get caught, it’s only a matter of time.

“I said get down!” That's all you hear before you’re tackled into the mud by an officer. He pins your arms to the Earth and you can hear the rattle of the handcuffs ready to clamp themselves down around your wrists. You try to fight but he holds just enough leverage over you that every elbow thrown was useless.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You fight because your very life depends on it. He’s smashing your face into the dirt rougher than necessary. “You’ve got nothing on me!” You writhed and kicked and screamed until suddenly the weight on you was gone and there was a thump and a grunt, a splatter in the mud.

Hobie was on top of the officer, fighting him, punching him, beating him into unconsciousness. You scrambled to your feet and watched him throw each punch with a grunt, teeth bared, eyes wild. You know if he keeps going he’ll kill the pig, not that you cared but he’d get into far more trouble than it's worth.

“Hobie, Hobie, come on.” You grabbed his hand before he could swing it down again, grabbed it besides all the blood and bruises. “They’re coming. We need to get outta here.” Your eyes plead for him to leave it alone. You couldn't care less about what happens to him, you tell yourself as much at least, but he saved you. It’s only fair and you don't like being indebted to people.

Hobie looked at you, then the cop on the ground, then back at you again. He stood and took your hand with his so gently. “Ma boat is on the dock up the way, come on.” He glanced back for a moment before the two of you began to run hand in hand. Hobie guides you out of the crowd in an entirely separate direction than everyone else. You run even though your feet ache, even though your heart is racing in your chest, even though you feel as though you can't breathe.

You only stop when you reach the dock where Hobie's boat is anchored. He leads you with bruised and battered hands to the canal boat at the end of the dock, a place where the two of you can call up your respective mates and make sure everyone is okay.

You’re covered in mud, wet, cold, shivering while you board Hobie’s boat. You wrap your arms around yourself and rock from heel to toe while Hobie shuffles about on his boat. He opens a door and looks back at you, “Ya comin’?” Your lips curled into a scowl as you let out a scoff. “I’m fine now, thanks. I can catch a cab back home.”

“Ya look like a wet dog. Come on.” 

With a reluctant sigh, you follow him into his boathouse. It’s warm inside, immediately ceasing your shivering. It’s small, cozy, a bit cluttered but it’s not like your flat is any better. You hate to say that you like it but you do, you think it’s great, with his bed in front of a window that overlooks the bay.

You watch Hobie rummage about for clothes and all you can do is stare at his hands, hands that protected you, hands that fought for you, that drew blood for you. He defended you and fuck if it wasn’t hot. “I don’t need your pity.” You cover up the fact that you can feel yourself growing a little weak in the knees. If you hate him a little harder maybe it will make the feeling between your legs go away.

“No’ pity, jus’ bein’ a decent human-fuckin’-bein’,” he corrects you. “Wha’? Ya tink ‘m no’ capable of no good? I saved ya arse and ya sill bein’ a fuckin’ right cunt.” He comes close, he pokes your shoulder so hard that you move back a little, space that he closes once again. 

The adrenaline is still running high. Your heart is still racing in your chest, slamming against your ribcage in a desperate attempt to claw its way out. You eat up the space between the two of you and shove him. “I only act like a cunt because you act like a dickhead!” You shove him again and he stumbles back before coming right back to you.

You breathe heavy, the both of you, staring. You keep glancing at his lips. Why do you keep glancing at his lips? Better question is why he keeps glancing at yours.

It was Hobie who leaned in and kissed you first. You could keep your dignity — keep your sanity — in knowing that you were not the one to make the first move. He kissed you hard and you kissed him back, kissed him harder. Your tongue found his lips and eagerly asked for permission for entrance. You needed him, needed his tongue against yours, need those hands that protected you against your skin.

Hobie parted his lips, let your tongue wander into his supple mouth and find his pierced tongue. It was hot, a little sloppy. You lick into his mouth and he licks into yours, your bodies pressing into the others while your slippery hands tug at each other's clothing. You swallow each breathless moan he sighs into your mouth, his hands sliding beneath your shirt. They’re cold, you shudder under his touch and he likes it. He smiled into the kiss. “Sum wrong?”

“Shut up.” You shudder out as his fingers breeze over you top surgery scars and brush your nipples that harden under his touch. His hands roam where they please, across your chest and down the curve of your back that arches with the tender touches of his fingertips. Your tongue lapped at his bottom lip, teeth nipping softly at the lip ring you spend hours staring at. “Just touch me.”

“Only touch ya?” Hobie teased with the idea. “Some heavy pettin’, yeah?”

“I’m still tryna decide if I wanna fuck you or not.”

Hobie kissed you again, tasting of piss poor beer and mint, a strange but delightful combination. “Dove, ya wanna fuck me. Ya wouldn' be here if ya didn't. Jus’ lemme treat ya good.” His hand pulled at the hem of your shirt and pulled it off of you in one swift motion. Those hands of his, they caressed your waists and hips while his lips traced a path down your neck. “Le's get rid of these clothes before ya make tha’ decision.”

You helped Hobie out of his clothes and he helped you out of yours, every piece of clothing leaving you a little hotter than the last. You trembled under his touch as he eased his hand over the band of your boxers. He slid his hand further south and cupped the mound of your pussy. “Ya ready to take me up on tha’ offer now?”

“I’ll punch you in the face.” You can’t stand his smugness but you can't say you don't like the way he pulls down your underwear then pulls down and pushes you back onto his bed. He pulls them off the rest of the way and tossed them to the side with the rest of your clothes. “Lemme give tha’ demonstration now.” 

Hobie climbed onto the bed with you, on top of you. His hands protected you, his hands now tenderly caress you. His long fingers soothe down your naval and his lips kiss the curves of your scars. His body is pressed between your legs, his cock tapping your clit in just the right way to make you let out a fluttering moan.

Those hands, those hands that defended you, cupped your pussy again and his lips were on yours once more. He wanted to taste it, taste the surprise on your sweet lips when he dipped his long fingers between your supple lips and felt how wet you were. Your love let out a nice, creamy sound as he ran his fingers up and down from your wanton cunt to your aching clit.

You gasped into his mouth and Hobie took it, held it, tasted it, and loved it all in a single breath. He can't help but smile, to kiss you harder while he eased his middle finger into your lovely little cunt while his thumb rubbed circles into your firm clit. “Found ‘im, the lil shit.”

You reached between your two warm bodies, skin against skin in the best way possible, your hand sliding down his chest, his diaphragm, his naval, down to his length which rested on your belly and oozed precum onto you. You gathered up the growing little pool on your fingers and spread it across his throbbing tip, your finger circling his slit the same way he circled your rosebud.

Hobie let out something of a strangled groan into your mouth, fingers pausing for just a moment before resuming their torturous massage. “Yer sum else, y’know tha’?” He slipped his index finger in swiftly, the soft stretch making you hum sweet melodies of pleasure for him. He thumbed at your clit, swollen and pretty and begging for more, while your finger-stuffed cunt takes his fingers like it was always meant to.

You keep playing with his tip, dragging your feathery fingertips across the underside of the head, another sensitive spot that makes him react with another moan, lighter this time.

“I don't wanna have sex with you, Hobie.” You whisper like anything louder would break this precious moment. “But this isn't sex.” Not in your book.

“Hmm? Wha’cha call i’ then?”

“Heavy, heavy petting.”

Hobie can't stop himself from offering you a friendly chuckle. His fingers gently search for that sweet spot where he can get the most out of you, rubbing at your soft, gummy walls in a way that makes you arch your back and shiver. And when he finds that beautiful little spot, that spot that makes you moan his name in his ear, that makes your torture of his cock pause, he abuses it. Every thrust of his fingers, every curl, every rub targets that little soft ridge where your pleasure centers itself.

Your eyes flutter a bit. “Fuck– Hobie~ right– right there.” You tilt your hips in a way that gives him better access and it’s much appreciated. What’s even more appreciated it the way you’re softly jerking off his cockhead. The underside gently rubbing against the soft palm of your hand while your calloused fingers brush against the topside.

His hips rut. He lets out a pant, fingers still pounding away at your eager cunt. You’re both moaning into one another, soft, panting, desperate moans that feed into one another.

Hobie helped you up with a surprising amount of strength. Before you know it, your’re on top of him, his two digits still fucking your eager hole. It’s your turn to rut your hips, your legs straddling his, your hand stroking his tip so softly he might just cum right then and there. 

Hobie let his free hand tenderly stroke over your soft throat, his knuckles still bruised and scabbing over. “Is this alrigh’?” The hand that nearly killed for you is so wonderfully soft for you. They rip at the guitar, they fight, they beat a man unconscious, but they’d never hurt you. You take his hand and settle it on your throat, nodding softly. You trust him, you trust him more than you like him. Punk camaraderie and all that jazz.

Hobie wraps his fingers around your neck, presses his palm against your throat gently, and kisses you again. “Ride ma fingers, yeah?” You nod again, too fucked up to come up with a witty response. You rock your hips, lifting and falling. Your hand holds his on your throat and you moan into his mouth.

Your thumb rubbed his slit and Hobie groaned. “Fuck– yeah~ jus’ like tha’. Ma good boy.” You don't even mind that he called you his because if this is what it felt like to belong to him then maybe you didn't mind it, you didn't mind it at all.

His thumb rubbed the side of your throat, his finger curled each time you fell on them, your creamy juices running down his knuckles and the defined tendons of his hands. “Fuck, messy lil ting.” His thumb rubbed your clit with vigor. You couldn't stand it. You were losing your mind.

“Please, please, please,” you babbled. “‘m gonna cum.” Your hand raced up and down the length of his cock. “You’re gonna cum with me, yeah?” You play with his tip, stroke just the head, and his cock twitches. He’s close too, you can tell.

Hobie chuckled breathlessly. “Cumming together…’ow romantic.” The baritone of his voice makes the feeling within you build. His voice, his hands, his beauty. You kissed him, suckled on his tongue before licking it. It was filthy, disgusting really and you both loved it more than either of you cared to admit.

Your body rolled with the beginnings of your climax, your pussy quivering around his lengthy digits. “Cum for me, cum for me, please.” You wanted it, needed it. Skin against skin, flesh for flesh, two pretty bodies finding the height of pleasure at the same time, together. Punk camaraderie.

Cumming at the same time was quite the intimate experience, something you’d never thought you’d share with the likes of Hobie Brown. But here he was, cumming ribbons against your chest and belly while the rest oozes down your knuckles. You're dripping down his knuckles too, only fair, just as good.

You’re seeing double, he’s seeing stars, you’re both delirious and in need of the other. Sloppy kisses and breezing sighs of relief. Wet fingers slip out of you and hold your waist while he tongues at your mouth.

Your mind felt hazy, you leaned into Hobie and let him embrace you when any other day you would have died before you let him touch you so softly. You’ve shoved each other, pinched, poked, even bit, but never embraced.

“Thank you for protecting me.” You whisper, sheepishly so. You roll off of him and onto his bed. He leaned over and laid down with you, an arm wrapped around you, his hips between your legs. “Couldn' have ya beaten or arrested now. Wha’ would tha’ make me?”

“A proper asshole.”

“A proper asshole.” He echoed. “Lemme get something to clean ya up wit’ then ya can call ya mates.” He turned your head and kissed you once again, tenderly, quickly before getting up and grabbing his underwear or was that yours? He put them on and opened a sliding door to a small bathroom.

Hobie came back, wiping his hand with a wet cloth. He used it to wipe his cum from your chest. He let you clean between your own legs, not wanting to overstep his already overstayed welcome.

“Hobie–” You began while he settled back into bed. You stood up to get whatever underwear was left and put it on. “If we’re doing…this. Let’s keep it between us. You know our mates will lose it.”

He shrugged. “Fine by me. Like ma relationships private anyway.”

“Not a relationship, dickhead.”

“Yeah yeah, whateva.” He sat up and grabbed your hand, pulling you back onto his bed with him. You land right in his hold, your flesh against his, your lips against his as well. You could do this forever.

“Stay the nigh’.” Hobie’s hand brushed your cheek. His gaze was persuasive and you were in no position to decline. You sighed, rolled away from him only to be rolled back.

“I still hate you.”

“‘m sure ya do, love. Sure ya do.”

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Sorry lovely, I’m back again.

I have a serious case of Hobie brain-rot and a like fifty ideas are running through my head but one (two kinda?) of them is very prominent right now.

So I’m stuck between fan!m!Reader x Hobie and punk!m!Reader x Hobie cause for both of them I can’t stop thinking about them hooking up in the bathrooms at the venue after a concert.

Also I adore your work with every fiber of my being <3

-🪶

Habits (Hobie Brown x Fan!M!Reader)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fan!M!Reader Category: Smut Warnings: Depictions of Smoking, Sub/Dom Undertones, Descriptions of Pubic Hair, Dirty Talk, Spanking, Blowjobs (Reader Receiving), Hair Pulling, Anal Fingering/Prostate Rubbing, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex (You Know the Drill), Mirror Sex, Pet Names (Pup, Baby/Baby Boy, Hun, Sweetheart, Sweet Thing, Love/Lovie), Handjobs, Multiple Orgasms, Swearing, M x M Smut Written by a Female Word Count: 2.8k+ Song Rec: 505 by Arctic Monkeys A/N: Hello again! Thank you so much for your sweet words love. 🫶 Full disclosure: I’ve never written male x male smut before - I’m so sorry if it’s terrible but I wanted to at least give it a try. 😭

Your heart was beating against your sternum as you stepped outside for a quick smoke. A wide smile stretched across your face as you thought about the way the lead singer, Hobie Brown, stooped down and gazed into your eyes during the final song. You sighed while pulling out a cigarette and lighter from your pocket. “Evenin’, love,” a familiar voice suddenly drawled. You gasped and dropped your lighter - the small, silver object slipping into the shadows of the alleyway. Your entire body tensed as you glanced over at the dark-haired angel beside you. His plump lips were curved into a lazy grin as smoke trailed out of his flared nostrils. “Y-You’re-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence. Hobie chuckled as he shrugged; a deep, sonorous sound that sent shivers down your spine.

“Yeah, it's me,” the icon shrugged before pulling something out of his pocket. You blinked as he held up his own lighter. “Want me to light it?” he offered. Your heart skipped a beat as you swallowed thickly. Your hands were practically trembling as you held the cigarette to the little flame in his hand. Hobie smiled as your hands slide against each other, the side of his warm palm lingering against your own.

“Thanks,” you muttered before taking a drag.

“No problem,” the rockstar hummed before slipping his hands into his pockets. The two of you smoked in silence for a while, the sounds of drunk fans leaving the venue and cars honking filling the London alleyway. Hobie eventually cleared his throat.

“You were the one in front, yeah?” he asked while cocking his head to the side. Your cheeks burned as you nodded. He grinned while stepping a little closer to you, his talk, lanky frame shadowing over yours. “Had my eyes on you almost the whole time,” Hobie murmured before dipping his hand beneath your chin and tilting your head up. You parted your lips, your smoldering cigarette falling into a puddle below as his touch burned you to your core. Your breath hitched as his lips nearly caressed over yours while he tilted his head down.

“You wanna go someplace else?” Hobie whispered lowly.

+++

Your heart raced as the sound of the bathroom lock clicked in your ears. Hobie wore a more mischievous grin as he rested his hands on your hips. You sighed before he dipped his head down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You wrapped your hands around his upper back as he backed you against the cold brick wall. His massive palms wandered across your body as your lips connected in a wet, passionate embrace - your tongues colliding and wrapping around each other as the two of you moaned.

“If I’m doin’ anythin’ that makes you uncomfortable, just tell and I’ll stop,” he whispered. You gulped down the lump in your throat and nodded before he dove back in. You gasped as you felt your pants growing tighter - your cock twitching to life beneath your dark briefs with every stroke and swipe of his tongue. This didn’t seem to go unnoticed by Hobie as he pulled back for some air. His smirk broke the string of spit that connected your lips as he raised his brows.

Your heart pounded inside your ears as he trailed his lips across your cheek before nibbling on the shell of your pierced ear. Your throat tightened as his hand fell down your stomach and cupped your growing erection, his palm placing just the right amount of pressure on your burning sex.

“Wonder what a delicious little thing like you tastes like…” he rumbled into your ear. Your knees nearly gave out as Hobie teasingly rubbed his hand against your clothed dick while his lips wove a patch of hickeys down your neck. Your skin glistened with his spit as his nimble fingers made quick work of undoing your studded, leather belt. The sound of it unbuckling sent a spark of arousal through your shaft, your slit already oozing with a thick bead of precum as he tugged your pants and boxers down.

"Sh-Shit," you gasped beneath your palm as he rode up your ripped t-shirt, his band's logo slightly glowing beneath the dim light of the bathroom. A wry smirk danced across Hobie's face as he pecked down your stomach while wrapping one of his large hands around the base of your shaft, your cock leaping at his gentle touch.

"Fuckin' look at you - such an eager little pup, yeah?" he chuckled softly before blowing a puff of warm air over your weeping tip. Your body tensed as his breath swept over your exposed skin, your thighs clenching while he squeezed his fist around your needy cock. You moaned into your hand as Hobie fully dropped to his knees and swiped his warm, wet tongue over your mushroom tip, the sensation making your balls clench and stomach tighten. You whimpered as he flicked and swirled his tongue around your head, his chocolate brown eyes glowing with lust as his lips curled into an amused grin.

"Want me to suck your cock, baby boy? Take you deep down my throat 'til you cum so hard you see stars?" he husked while slowly pumping his hand around the hilt of your dick, each stroke leaving you trembling and aching for more. You released a gutteral groan as you nodded. Hobie laughed softly before pressing a teasing kiss to the head of your dick and greedily licking another bead of precum into his hungry mouth.

"Lemme hear ya, sweetheart. Need to hear those pretty words come outta your mouth," he purred. You swallowed the lump in your tight throat as you shivered.

"P-Please suck my cock, Hobie," you keened while bucking your hips forward. A deep chuckle rumbled through Hobie's chest before he spat a thick, warm wad of saliva across your smooth length. You squeezed your eyes shut and tilted your head back as he wrapped his lips around your girth, his mouth stretching around your aching shaft while he slowly sank his head down your sex.

"Fuck," you hissed between gritted teeth as you groped and reached for his dark, puffy wicks. Hobie groaned as you tugged on his thick hair while he let your cock rest on his tongue, his eyes half-lidded while tears of pleasure rolled down your burning cheeks. Your cock twitched as he hollowed his cheeks and began to slowly bob his head up and down, smearing a lewd concoction of your precum and his spit across your shaft with every stroke of his mouth.

Your eyes rolled back as he pumped his fist in time with his slow, tender sucking. Your moans echoed between the bathroom walls as he made a sudden slurping sound while rapidly swirling his wet muscle around your tip.

"Mmmm H-Hobie," you grunted while gently bucking your hips forward. Hobie moaned as you drove your dick even deeper down his tight throat, a small gag jolting you before he regained his composure. He flared his nostrils as he began to bob his head even faster, the lewd, wet sounds of him slurping and sucking your dick driving you further into a lustful frenzy.

"Fuck yes, k-keep going!" you panted as you clenched your fists around two of his thick wicks. Your jaw grew tight as you felt your balls tighten beneath his grasp and cock throb incessantly in his deep, warm cavern. "Fuck, please," you begged as your hips slapped against his face, his nose buried deep inside your thick pubic hair as you pounded his throat raw. You felt your lower stomach muscles clench and flutter as you moaned incessantly, your body glowing with arousal as your eyes snapped open.

"H-Hobie!" you screamed as you snapped your hips forward one final time, driving your length as deep as you could down his fluttering esophagus. The room was filled with your combined groans as your jaw went slack. Your vision flooded with white as your cock twitched while releasing ropes of thick cum inside his soft, perfect mouth. Hobie sighed and closed his eyes as he savored the feeling of you painting his tongue and throat with your warm seed, his hand still gently rocking back and forth across your length as your legs shook incessantly.

"God, yes," you panted as you rolled your hips forward, the tender, warm feeling of his hollowed cheeks around your girth making your head spin and body glow with bliss. Hobie sighed as he shot you another lazy grin. You parted your lips as he slowly pulled off of your softening cock with a slick "pop", his lips slightly swollen and slathered in his own spit. You whined softly as he kissed your tip and lapped up a loose bead of cum.

"Thanks for the treat, lovie," he purred with a raspy whisper. You swallowed thickly and rested your head on the bathroom wall. Your eyes snapped open when he suddenly spun you around; one hand on your hip while the other clumsily undid his belts and zipper. "But I'm done with you yet," Hobie rumbled into your ear. Your heart leapt beneath your sternum as he guided you over to the sink, your fucked out expression staring right back at you in the mirror as he arched your back.

Your breath hitched as you heard his pants fall down his thighs while he spread your cheeks apart. Your hole puckered when he spat over your crack, a trail of his thick, warm spit caressing down your ass and taint before the thick tip of his cock slapped between your asscheeks. You flinched as he suckled on two of his long, nimble fingers before teasing the rim of your tight hole with his tips.

"Wanna hear you scream and moan f'me. Make all those cute noises while I fuck this tight, little ass of yours," Hobie drawled before playfully slapping your ass. You squeaked as the sting settled into your exposed flesh as he circled his wet fingers around your hole. "Can you do that f'me, baby?" he murmured before teasingly dipping his fingers in and out of your clenching anus. You moaned and rocked your hips back, your cock already twitching back to life as you heaved.

"Y-Yes," you said with a strained groan. Hobie smirked before he slowly shoved his two fingers deep inside your ass. A high-pitched cry escaped from your lips as you felt his fingertips glide over the lump hidden between your perineum and canal. You keened as Hobie caressed his digits over your sensitive prostate while he kissed along the back of your neck.

"That's it - just let go f'me, sweet thing," your idol husked into your ear as he teased and stroked your swollen lump. You gasped when he hooked his other two fingers inside your cheek while he continued to pump his digits in and out of your clenching hole. You moaned around his thick fingers as your body shivered with overstimulation - your cock already begging for his intoxicating touch as he played with your tight ass.

"Fuck, Hobie," you whimpered as you ground your ass against his hips, his cock gliding on top of your cheeks as his hot breath fell over your sweat-covered neck. You felt him grin against your pulse as he curled his digits against your prostate, the pressure making your cock twitch again as he slipped his fingers out of your mouth.

"Feel like you're ready f'me, hun?" he purred lowly into your ear as he gently stroked over your sensitive spot. You lazily nodded your head as you gazed at him through the mirror, your expression completely fucked out as you panted like a dog in heat.

"Please, Hobie - need to feel your cock inside me," you moaned while wriggling your hips against his own. The rockstar grinned as he slipped his fingers out of your ass, the emptiness making you gasp before he spat into his hand and stroked his own cock. You glanced back as he lined his tip to your stretched out hole, smearing his spit over your puckering anus.

"Remember: no holdin' back," he murmured while he barely pressed his head past the rim of your anus. You arched your spine and nodded as you thrusted your hips back: desperate to be filled with his long, heavy shaft. Hobie cooed as he pushed himself deeper inside you, his length deliciously spreading you open while he wrapped his free hand around your cock. You white-knuckled the edge of the sink as you felt his dick caress every inch of your tight canal while he tenderly squeezed the base of your sensitive dick.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he said with a clenched jaw. Both of you moaned as he bottomed out, his sharp waist snugly pressed against your spread cheeks as you trembled in his hold. Hobie placed a hand on your hip as his shaft throbbed inside you, the feeling of fullness making your mind grow numb as you struggled to keep your head up.

"Eyes on the mirror, lovie," Hobie murmured as he gave your cock an eager stroke. You gasped and snapped your head back up as he patiently pulled his hips back, leaving his cock half-way plugged inside your desperate hole. You mewled as he pressed his cock forward, finding the perfect rhythm as he pumped his fist in time with the steady rock of his hips.

"Mmm God, you feel so perfect wrapped around me," Hobie's breath hitched as your muscles fluttered around his swollen length. You moaned at his praise as he continued to drive his cock deep inside your ass, the flesh of your cheeks rippling each time his hips met your shaking form.

"H-Hobie," you sang in a cracked voice as waves of pleasure washed over you. You gasped as he squeezed your hip as his thrusts grew more swift and hungry.

"Holy fuck,” Hobie groaned as he snapped his hips forward, driving his cock even deeper inside your raw, stretched out hole. Your asscheeks began to clap as he raked his teeth over the blanket of hickeys on your neck, his hand rapidly stroking your shaft as you watched him rut into you from behind.

"Sh-Shit, right there!" you sobbed as his leaking tip rubbed against your sensitive prostate. Your balls tightened as you leaned over the sink, the chipped surface shaking from the force of Hobie's thrusts as he panted wildly.

"God, could stay in this perfect ass all fuckin' day," the guitarist grunted as he nipped and suckled on the shell of your ear. You couldn't stop the high-pitched, needy whines that escaped your throat as you felt your cock grow heavier within his hold. Hobie furrowed his brows as his lip ring caressed your ear.

"C'mon baby: cum f'me. Make a fuckin' mess on my bloody hand," he growled. You wailed and threw your head against his shoulder as you bucked your dick into his palm, your cock shooting thick strings of your hot seed as you cried his name. Both of you heaved as pleasure washed over you, your body quivering with pure ecstasy while your cum dripped between his fingers and splattered onto the tiled floor. "Fuck yes," Hobie hissed with a clenched jaw as his thrusts began to falter. You keened as he panted against your ear while the soft walls of your rectum clenched and fluttered around his dick.

"Shit, gonna cum," he gasped while he rested his chin on your shoulder, his lean front flush against your back while he rutted into you. Your eyes slowly fluttered open as you gulped and threw your ass back against his swift movements.

"C-Cum inside!" you begged him as you practically bounced yourself on his dick. You gasped as he dug his nails into the flesh of your waist as he grabbed both of your hips. You shivered as you felt his warm breath hover over your shoulder as his eyes screwed shut.

"Shit, (Y/N)!" Hobie roared as he snapped his hips forward. Your heart skipped a beat as he growled into your ear while he eagerly filled your needy hole with his cum. You nearly folded in half over the sink as you felt him paint your tight canal with his hot seed. "G-God, take it - take all my fuckin' cum," Hobie swallowed thickly as he shallowly bucked into your ass, driving his spend deep inside you with several lewd, wet squelches. You released a choked moan as his cock twitched inside you for the last time, your sweaty bodies pressed against each other as the room was filled with the sounds of your combined, heaving breathing.

Your breath hitched as he kissed your temple while he let his cock soften inside you. A mischievous smirk danced across Hobie's face as he rubbed your waist.

"I'm playin' a show at The Black Cat next weekend," he suddenly whispered. You gazed into his blissful reflection as he traced his fingers over your lower stomach. "You should come," Hobie husked before he kissed your temple. A wide smile stretched across your face as your heart swelled. You slightly turned your head to the side and brushed your lips against his.

"What time?" you murmured with a smile.

____

Thank you for reading! 🖤 

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