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elusivecagedmockingbird · 1 month

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Untitled

[jungkook x reader]

"You wanna know about art? When the class president starts touching my face on darkened street corners, and talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal."

Or THE popular fuckboy in your campus suddenly signs up as the figure model to one of your extracurricular activities and starts showing his interest in you.

A/N: I'm not sure where I went with this. Thus, untitled. I'm not even sure where this falls in the tags. But, enjoy!

Jungkook is at odds with himself.

Part of him wants to leave and forget about this stupid idea. He doesn't know what compelled him to listen to Jin. What exactly does the old man know about dating anyway? As far as he knows, he's never seen him with the same girl, so maybe he should have reached out to Namjoon instead.

The other part is hyping himself up. In about a few minutes, you’ll be coming through those doors. Besides, it would be too late to back out now. He chugs his bottled water as if he were thirsty. Jungkook thinks he'll pass out from anxiety. If not that, then from how warm it is inside this garage turned makeshift studio.

He feels the beads of sweat trickle down his back and pits.

This is not good.

The class is about to start and he'll be stripping down to his boxers and he's all sweaty. Thinking about that uneventful possibility, makes him sweat more.

Fuck.

He notices someone walk towards the corner he has been hiding in. Judging by how good-looking his face is and the vintage clothing he wears, Jungkook surmises this must be the Senior organizing this art class. Taeyong? Taehyun?

Ah, Taehyung, he remembers.

"You're Jungkook, right?"

Jungkook only nods as a response. His dry throat keeps him from speaking, afraid he squeaks out a reply and embarrasses himself more.

Thankfully, the other man is kind enough to not assume his silence as being standoffish.

"Nervous, huh?" Taehyung smirks, but Jungkook doesn't feel like he's being provoked. Rather, it actually calms him—at least the idea that it must be a common occurrence for models to exude this much anxiety that it's the first question people assume.

"That obvious, huh?" A dry chuckle following. "Do all models get nervous on their first time?" Jungkook finally finds his voice. Albeit, a bit meek for someone with a strong commanding aura.

Taehyung smiles and nods. "More than you expect. Which is understandable. Jin hyung told me you're doing this to learn more about art?"

No, he isn't, he internally protests. He doesn't know what Jin told Taehyung, but the real reason he's here on a Sunday, as a supposed 'volunteer' model for a drawing class is because of you.

The rest, he let Jin fill it out.

But of course, he wouldn't divulge those. So, Jungkook clears his throat before responding with a meek 'yes' as he shoots his empty water bottle in the can, making a clanging noise. He smiles sheepishly at the circled crowd whose attention he caught. He cringes at how much he's going out of his way to act cool. He's never this way, and yet, he wants to make sure you witness him with his best foot forward today.

Jungkook sways on the balls on his feet, taking in the space when he sees you—just as you were hooking your bag in your chair.

Goddamn, you're pretty. He's watching you laugh with another girl stationed near your spot as you lay out your tools on your table.

"Ready when you are." Taehyung breaks him out of his trance, and he replies with a sheepish nod—pretending he wasn't caught staring at you.

Jungkook starts by taking off his shoes, then his leather jacket. He unbuttons his pants and the thought that you would be looking at his crotch makes him blush. He shamelessly imagines you and him as Jack and Rose in that sketching scene. But before he can pull his jeans down, a booming baritone voice hollers at him.

Taehyung hurries towards him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook freezes at the sudden aggression. His mouth puckers open and close like a fish coming up for air, as he struggles to come up with a reply.

Taehyung tilts his head and assesses the young man with a pout. "Did Seokjin not tell you this isn't a nude class? We just need you to strip to your shirt and jeans," Taehyung clarifies in a whisper.

Embarrassment floods Jungkook and he sputters out an apology. He silently curses himself between nervous laughs and incoherent words of what seemed to be apologies. Shy doe eyes peeps at you and the confused and scandalized look painted on your face makes him want to get swallowed by the ground and never reappear in front of you ever again.

You must think he’s some kind of a creep or worse, a flasher. With a big exhale, he tries to set aside the embarrassment and go through this. It's already bad enough that his nerves and recent embarrassment made a sweat stain on his shirt.

Not long after, Jungkook stands in the middle of the circle of easels. It actually isn't bad, he thinks. Most of the time, he's staring at wood stands and the occasional heads peeking out of the canvas.

You're on his side, so he can only see you through his peripheral vision. Even so, he can already visualize the vein popping on your forehead when you concentrate—just one of the things he adores on your face.

That afternoon, Jungkook finds out he likes the thought of you paying this much attention and focus on him, instead of the other way around.

He holds his growing smile at bay.

The hour-long class went quicker than Jungkook wanted. He takes his time picking up his jacket and pretends to search for something in his bag as he waits for you to pack up. But, you never rise from your seat.

It takes Taehyung tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your world. "You still get tomorrow, Y/N," he hears Taehyung remind you before walking around the room, checking progress.

Jungkook didn't mean to eavesdrop more, but when you stood up and followed Taehyung, he couldn't help but tune in to your conversation.

"I need a little more time to fix a few edges. Can I just extend for a while? I'll clean up the supplies room." You plead, voice kept low as if you're making an illegal trade with Taehyung.

Jungkook hears the older man sigh and call your name softly. "You still have tomorrow to work on it, and the next few days. Plus, I can't suddenly ask the model to stay just for you."

You whine petulantly like a child and Jungkook wonders if he can make you whine under different situations. Perhaps, under hi—

"He can go. I just need—"

The moment he makes out your reply, Jungkook was quick to cut you off and offer his time. "I can stay for a while."

Both you and Taehyung turn your heads to face the man who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he might as well have been. Your glowered confused eyes stare into him. "I-if you want," he stutters, so he tries to salvage his image with an obviously feigned nonchalant shrug.

Taehyung holds back his laugh but the sudden expulsion of air from his nose wasn't amiss, earning a side eye from you.

"No need," you answer with finality. "You get paid by the hour, right? I can't pay you and—"

"You don't have to pay me. I'm offering." Jungkook internally winces at how quick he was in offering himself. But if he were being honest, he would stay in this shoddy garage all night, through the blazing summer heat, as long as it's time spent with you.

Is it a crime that he's quick to take an opportunity when it has presented itself?

He thinks abso-fucking-lutely not.

Your eyebrows furrow, the 'I wasn't done talking' death glare you directed at Jungkook has him shift awkwardly on his foot and look everywhere else but at you.

"Still, I'd get in trouble for requesting more time, anyway. Can't have other students think Taehyung here has favorites." You press and it chips a bit of his confidence. It was obvious you didn't want him to stay. If he keeps insisting, you might think he's creepy.

Jungkook didn't want to seem too pushy anyway, and so, lets out a defeated "Oh.." and nods. His round eyes making it easy to see his dismay as it curves downwards a little at the sides.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Taehyung intervenes. The older man was amused as he watched Jungkook flounder around you, he also knows how oblivious and dismissive you are of guys like Jungkook to a fault. And so, he helps.

Ah, young love, Taehyung muses. "Just make sure to clean up and lock up after." He tosses the keys to you, but you make no movement of catching it, letting the keys hit your chest and fall to the ground.

Now your glare is directed towards your sunbaenim. "On second thought, I'm wrapping it up for tonight then." You head towards your easel to pack up your stuff.

Taehyung sighs.

He tells Jungkook to wait a bit and pick up the keys as he follows after you, calling your name.

“Just take the guy's offer to help. He’s trying to learn more about art, too,” he whispers, arms crossing across his chest. "Isn't this the piece you're submitting with your application? I know that head of yours will run nonstop if you don't finish what you intended to do tonight." Taehyung nudges you with a smile and softly jabs his pointer finger to your temple, making you chuckle with a pout. You shoo his hand away from your face and he knows he got you to stay.

This Jungkook kid owes him, Taehyung thinks.

However, from where Jungkook stands, he sees you breaking out the cutest smile at Taehyung. His eyes even going bigger at what he believes is an affectionate touch to your face when Taehyung boops your forehead.

Is that even ethical or something, he wonders irately. Taehyung isn't much older but given that he's your sunbaenim, Jungkook thinks he shouldn't be doing that. Or even be standing close to you. He's currently throwing imaginary lasers at Taehyung's back when you both turn to him and he immediately unsquints his eyes.

"Jungkook, do you still want to stay?" Taehyung shouts at the young man.

Yes.

A hundred times yes. He's a lovesick loyal puppy and if you ask him to bark, he'll bark for you.

Jungkook nods enthusiastically and rushes closer to where you stand, eager to wedge himself between you and Taehyung.

"Jungkook," you sigh his name tiredly. "I really need you to stop moving your head. Is there something more interesting behind me?" The question was rhetorical, but you're starting to wonder what he keeps on staring at behind you that you turn your head, only to be greeted with a wall filled with hanged canvases.

You hear him mumble out a you with a smirk, but was quick to cover it up with a sorry. This guy think he was slick.

Jungkook turns his head to assume his supposed pose. His eyes still filled with mirth. And he lasts about four minutes before his head starts turning towards you. Again.

You throw your head forward with an exhausted groan. This was a mistake. You're growing more frustrated by the minute. Maybe you should call it a night.

Looking back up at your model, you tell him he can leave.

Jungkook breaks his stance then quickly poses as he quickly persuades you. "No, I'll stay still. Look," he promises and follows through quickly by holding the pose.

"No, I'm just really too tired for tonight. Thank you for staying a bit longer." You busy yourself by grabbing at your stuff, cleaning pencil shards here and there to keep the lurking unease.

You can't have a breakdown here again, you admonish yourself. And it's going to feel worse after, if Jungkook's here to see it happen. You keep your head down while your hands wipe the charcoal dust on the table.

You hear footsteps nearing you, and you pray to whoever listens that he's not actually coming closer. He calls your name, his voice close and soft. You hum in response, head still hung low, refusing to face him.

Jungkook sees you rubbing an eraser at a blank surface and purses his lips. He finally got the chance to spend time with you and he was hoping to break the ice and get closer to you, but he does this—he upset you and wasted your time. You're not gonna want to spend more time with him after this.

"I-I'm sorry. I really wanted to help. I can stay again tomorrow to make up for tonight," he offers. Everything about him screams eagerness and he must really be interested in art to be willing to stay in the garage-slash-studio during this Summer heat.

You feel the tingling pressure in your throat and your lips quiver. You clear your throat and will away the tears before it breaks through your paper wall.

"No. You did great, Jungkook. I'm just not feeling well tonight." Your voice was too soft, but at least it didn't break.

Jungkook walks past you and turns to face you, hands making contact with your shoulder. "Are you sick? I have some medicine in my bag," he offers. He retracts his hand and unzips his bag to take out whatever medicine he had stashed inside.

It's his genuine concern that does it for you. You suddenly sob and cover your face with your hands.

"Oh, Y/N, are you okay? Does something hurt?" He didn't expect this. Jungkook was taken aback and his worried eyes looked for signs of where you could have been hurt.

Your sobs turned to full-on bawling and Jungkook was quick to take you into his arms. He lets you cry and occasionally whispers assurances between your weeping despite not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears.

In that moment, you stood illuminated by harsh yellowish fluorescent lights like a Gustav Klimt painting on display. The A/C humming noise drowned out by your hiccups and his whispers.

You were the first to pull away. He didn't mean to, but the moment you separated from Jungkook and lowered your hands from your face, he laughed.

Offended at his reaction, you push him away and quickly gather your bag hanging on the chair.

"Wait," he calls for you as he fumbles to pick up the bag he let fall to the floor.

He calls your name but you decidedly ignore him, feet shuffling quickly to leave the garage.

Fucking ass, you think. You're mortified. You already dread tomorrow as your imagination runs wild. What if he tells his friends about your ugly crying? You think you don't care what frat guys think, but you still definitely don't want to be the talk of the campus. You've only transferred here last year and after being briefed by your friend on who to avoid, you made sure not to have a run in with guys like Jungkook.

This is exactly why you were holding everything in earlier. Every stereotype of frat guys being huge assholes behind the charming facade were true.

A flash of high school memories ambush you and you just want to get to your dorm and hide in your blankets. You'll just have to miss tomorrow's class, you plan.

You violently shrug when you feel a hand grip your wrist.

"Hey, will you wait," Jungkook pleads. You turn to face him and see him reach something in his pockets.

Fuck. He's not going to take a photo, isn't he?

You were ready to lunge at him, anything to prevent him from taking a snap at your post-bawl blotched face, when all of sudden, a soft cloth touched your face.

Jungkook chuckles at your startled face.

"You have charcoal smudged all over your face," he points out. His bunny teeth peeks through his curved lips and the sides of his eyes wrinkle from amusement.

"Oh." You visibly flinch when he uses his thumb to brush the apple of your cheeks.

"There," he smiles, eyes fixated on his finger caressing your skin.

"You know you really have pretty eyes."

If you were in a romantic movie, his line would have panned out well. But you're not, so cue the sound of glass breaking to signify a shattered moment.

To think, you bought his act. You thought, here's a deviant frat boy species. Maybe not all of them are only interested in girls and booze. You even thought this Jeon Jungkook isn't so bad.

Until he says that.

Breaking away and stepping back from him, you humorlessly laugh in disbelief.

"You're a fucking cliché, Jungkook. Does this babble usually work on chicks?" You take a look at him and he has the audacity to look unaware of how hokey the situation is.

"Wha—" Poor boy couldn't even finish his sentence, you thought.

"Y/N, I'm not following."

You were about to make a joke on flies flying straight to his agape mouth but you hold yourself back. Instead, you make a gesture of shaking your head as you force out another dry laugh. You look at him one last time and walk away from the frat boy once again.

You hear his footsteps follow you, along with calls of your name. "Did I say something wrong?"

You stop as you reach the threshold—you're almost out of the garage and out into the cold dark night, ready to rush into the safety of your dorm and away from sleazy college boys.

But something in you compels you to turn, and so you do. "Yes, Jungkook. You did." Your hands grip your bag tighter, feet taking a couple of steps back into the garage, to the shoddy light so he can see you.

"Did you really think this charming ‘oh-i’m-clueless act was going to drop panties? You wanna know about art?" You hurl the question; voice no longer shaky and unsure. "When the campus playboy starts touching my face on dimly lit spaces, and starts talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal." You roll your eyes at him before making your exit.

It takes a minute for Jungkook to get his body to move. And when he does, you're already a distance away. Almost gone from his sight.

This is the second time today that you rendered him immobile and speechless. Just what the fuck did he do?

Meanwhile, you cursed at Jeon Jungkook on your entire walk home. Fuck him and his round innocent eyes for throwing the bees and butterflies in your stomach into chaos.

You tell yourself you dodged a bullet and that was just a ploy for him to get into your pants. You should actually congratulate yourself for turning away one of the notorious womanizers. Your roommate would be proud of you.

Still, you couldn't deny the jolt you felt in your chest when he touched your face and spewed those cheesy lines about your eyes.

You grunt as you slam the door to your dorm.

"Damn. Who pissed you off?" Jihyo, your roommate stares at you across her table.

You heave a sigh of exhaustion and plop yourself on the carpeted floor. "Had a run in with a frat guy," you spit with a scowl. "You remember the guy you were talking about last week? Jungkook? He's the model for this week."

"Seriously? That's..." Jihyo's head tilted sideways as she looked for the right word, brows furrowing. "Out of character for him."

You raise your head and prop your arms to face your roommate. "Right? That's what I thought, but Taehyung said he was interested in learning art."

At this, Jihyo pauses while eating and guffaws. "Is he for real?"

You roll your eyes at no one in particular and rest your head on your palms as your other hand plucks at the carpet. "Nah, I'm pretty sure he was just there to pick up girls."

Jihyo squints at you, suddenly alert as she senses something you haven't told her yet.

"He hit on me," you start. Already growing flustered at the recollection of the afternoon. "You know those cheesy lines from romcoms, he actually used them on me." You went on detail by detail about what happened and ended your story with a shudder. "This is the first time I might dread going to the class."

"Yep, I see why he thinks he could get away with the cheesiest line," Jihyo murmurs. Apparently, during your story, Jihyo picked up her phone and started to stalk Jungkook's profile. "I mean shame it wasn't nude because have you seen this body?" She flips her phone so you can see her screen.

"What? That's not Jungkook." You stand from your spot and walk closer to Jihyo and snatch the phone. "This isn't Jungkook."

"What are you talking about? That’s literally his profile,” Jihyo takes her phone back, wanting to take another look if you’re looking at the same thing. “See, Kim Jongkook. He’s the notorious fuck boy, probably in all departments. Good thing is, he’s graduating this year.”

Oh, fuck.

>> Still Untitled

#jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic

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hyyukas · 5 months

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cutie!hyuka <3

smut mdni

warnings: the dom & sub dynamic is a bit less prominent in this drabble, Kai's a virgin and reader is not, readers gender is not talked about and neither is their specific genitalia, dacryphilia ? praise, penetration, friends to ? big dick Kai, belly bulge, I don't really like how this turned out just because I fussed over it so much :/

your best friend was a virgin. huening kai was a virgin. he told you so himself, with flushed cheeks and teary eyes from embarrassment. he looked so deliciously pathetic you almost felt some sympathy for him. the only thing that was stopping you from feeling that sympathy was the sudden and overwhelming urge to fuck him into the couch.

and he was just so appreciative that you'd help him out, like the sweet best friend you'd always been.

kai was breathless after you pulled away from his lips and started kissing down his throat. every sensation felt like euphoria to him. his skin under your fingertips burned like nothing else ever had. every time your lips touched him he felt like he was being transported to heaven. nothing could ever beat this feeling.

"y/n. . ." kai whimpered as your knee brushed against his crotch. you chuckled against the skin of his neck, grinning like a cheshire cat when you felt his hips lift up in order to feel more of you.

"gotta be patient baby" you whispered in his ear whilst your hands continued to run all over his body, gripping and groping places you knew he'd keen for more of. and just as you expected your words were met with eager nods and cute little whimpers.

god he looked so pretty. his brown eyes filled with lust pleading up at you, begging for you to just touch him already. and his glossy lips that were parted just right, they were practically demanding to be kissed until bruised.

"so fucking beautiful. . ."

you'd never really felt this way about your best friend before. he'd always just been huening kai to you, huening kai your goofy best friend. but now as you stared at each other, hips pressed desperately against one anothers, you couldn't help the way your heart fluttered. (or maybe it was just the horniness getting to you)

"please, need you to touch me. . . it hurts" Kai mewled out and started to squeeze the flesh of your plush thighs, hands feeling anywhere they could reach. you shivered under his touch and quickly gave in, pulling his sweats down along with his boxers which he gladly helped kick off.

it was a little perverted but after having those words whispered in your ear and a kiss pressed right below your jaw you couldn't help but hurry along with your movements, you'd never tell Kai but you were desperate to have him.

to say you were stunned when your eyes landed on Kai's dick was an understatement. he was fucking massive. you unconsciously bit your lip and felt yourself clench around nothing, would it even fit ?

you shamelessly stared down at his crotch, thirsty eyes drinking up his fat mushroom tip that just looked so yummy. you could only imagine how heavenly it would feel to have him poking that good spot inside of you. "fuck. . . you're so big Kai"

your words alone had him twitching against his stomach, he swore he could come right then and there. but he decided to hold out once he noticed you pulling down your trousers and undergarments.

the next few minutes were a blur. there was so much teasing and touching that it made Kai's mind numb, all he could do was sit there prettily and huff out high pitched mewls into the crook of your neck whilst you did what you wanted with him (which was mostly just fondling and worshiping everything above his hips) but you made sure to bring him out of his daze once you started bouncing up and down on his cock.

it was loud to say the least, your ass smacking against the meat of his thighs every time you came back down, the sound of slick and sticky skin rubbing against each other, and of course the sound of both of your whimpers and moans mingling in the air. you wouldn't blame your neighbours if they came knocking at your door tomorrow.

Kai's head rolled back against the sofa and his lips parted in a silent moan, the way you were squeezing so tight had him borderline delirious, god why hadn't he done this sooner ? he cursed himself in his mind and prayed to god that his dick was good enough to have you coming back for more, now that he'd felt your velvety insides there was absolutely no way you could have an innocent friendship anymore.

"you're making me feel so fucking good" you groaned out in-between curses and moans. he was rubbing up against you so well, his fat cock stretching out your greedy hole which was more than pleased to swallow all of him.

he stared up at you, hips bucking and quivering once he saw how blissful your face was, he had no doubt he probably looked the same. " 'm so close, gonna come. . ." Kai whimpered and scrunched the cushions between his balled up fists.

you took note of his words, how he twitched inside of you and slowed your movements, taking to grinding yourself against him instead.

"not yet, baby. you've been so good for me, just a little longer yeah ?"

your halt in bouncing and your words had him shaking his head and whining out. "can't ! you feel too good, please don't stop !" at this point your languid movements were bringing tears to his eyes, his delicate lashes clumping together with the liquid, but he knew you liked that.

he knew because of the way he felt you flutter around him. and because of the way you let out a gutteral moan, lifting your body to start jumping up and down on him again.

"shit, your dick is absolutely perfect,, can practically feel you in my stomach." you whispered before slamming your lips onto Kai's and letting your mouths swallow each other's shameless sounds.

the last straw for Kai was when you grabbed his hand and pressed it against the bottom of your stomach, making him grope the small bulge he was creating. he let out a choked wail and bit down on your lip, stomach twisting in pleasure as he spilled inside of you. he knew for sure you would be doing this again.

series mlist

tag list is open ! @cinnikoi @zzstar @mini-mews

#© hyyukas #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt x reader #txt hard thoughts #txt drabbles #txt scenarios #huening kai hard thoughts #huening kai hard hours #huening kai smut #huening kai x reader #hueningkai hard thoughts #hueningkai hard hours #hueningkai smut #hyuka hard thoughts #hyuka hard hours #hyuka smut

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slut4sugu · 9 months

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can you make a story where 42 miles buys you a tighter fitted dress and then after he checks you out he picks you up and you have a mini makeout sesh

Ofc ofc, I’ve wanted to want something for miles again so thank you for the inspiration luv !

— SUCH A TEASE ! [42!miles x black!femreader]

ꨄ including: suggestive material, miles being flirt and (thirsty) for reader, makeout session, use of names: mami, my girl, chica, princesa, munceca (doll),amor. Being stopped magically by rio <3 Genre: fluff/suggestive

Back to masterlist <3

IT WAS THE WEEKEND BEFORE YOU MET MILES’S MOM & UNCLE; you were very nervous to make a good first impression even going so far as to changing the style of your nails that were once black and pink with a playboy bunny theme, to just white French tips. Of course miles thought that you were over reacting and didn’t need to change your nail design just for one dinner with his family. “Ma, relax your stressin to much ova dinner.” You sighed, now stressing over which dress to wear to dinner. Your huge walk in closet filled to the brim with revealing dresses only a few were covered enough to be considered appropriate for a dinner with Miles’s mom. Noticing your sighs and groans he sat up from you shared bed and walked towards the closet, your back facing him as you had three dresses lined up as your choices.

Outfit 1 . Outfit 2 . Outfit 3

You felt hands creep up on your waist, almost jumping at the feeling of Miles’s breath on the shell of your pierced ear. “Try on all of them mami, and make sure you show me. Wanna see mi chica in the pretty dresses I bought for her.” And you did as such, trying on all of the outfits and modeling them for him, before finally coming out of the white dress and into the more bold red one. As you opened the door and stepped out of the closet you immediately felt Miles’s gaze all over your figure, not to say he wasn’t always looking at you. But this time was with desire, seeing your pretty red dress compliment your gorgeous brown skin made him go crazy. (Not that you would’ve known <33) He stood up from the bed with a smirk, taking your hand and spinning you in a circle causing giggles to fall off your tongue. “Wear this one princesa.” His voice slightly demanding as he said this, which made you hesitant to remind him, “Amor remember I’m going to dinner with your mom-“ “You right,” He started, his eyes flickering to your breast then to your lips, “but that’s doesn’t mean I’m not gonna want desert after.” If you could blush you would right then and there, the fact that he was checking you out so blantenly in front of you made you feel like prey being sought after by a predator. His hand came up and tilting your chin up to look at him directly, his thumb running over your bottom lip in the process.

Your gaze finally met his, your pretty brown bedroom eyes that you gave him so shamelessly driving him up the wall. So when he smashed his lips into yours, he backed you into the one behind your small frame. His hand now going down to hike up your dress, feeling slightly needy you returned the kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck, to pull him in deeper. The taste of chapstick n mint on his lips made you desperate for more, a tap on your thigh signaling for you to jump. Pulling back from the kiss, you gave him a look. “Nigga i swear if you drop me-“ He let out an airy laugh, the sound causing your heart to race. “Munceca I got you.” Doing so you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling the support of his cold hands under your thighs distracted you briefly, from the attack of kisses on your neck. You let out a sigh of pleasure, your mind starting to go blank before getting interrupted by a phone call. A phone call from Miles’s mom, Miles gave you an annoyed look. “This shit is crazy.” You giggled, taking the phone out of the pocket of his hoodie and answering it.

“Miles I swear this girl better not call me rio and please tell me she speaks Span-“

“Hola, Sra. Morales, puedo asegurarle que hablo español con fluidez, y cualquier cosa que no supiera que su maravilloso hijo me enseñó".” (Hello, Mrs. Morales, I can assure you that I speak Spanish fluently, and anything you didn't know that your wonderful son taught me.”) You winked at your boyfriend who mouthed the words, “Show off.” Before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Bonus <33

After the phone call miles tossed the phone over his shoulder which somehow landed on the bed, and proceeded to finish what he started.

“I meant what I said earlier Mami, and honestly as pretty as this dress looks on you it’d look way fuckin better on my floor.”

#🌸. 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐌 #atsv fluff #atsv x you #atsv x black reader #atsv miles #42 miles morales #42 miles x fem!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales prowler #miles x black reader #miles morales #prowler miles #miles x y/n #atsv prowler

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animehideout · 5 months

Note

Hello! can you do a scenario with gojo x reader who simps out loud for him

like she says the craziest shit she would do to him infront of everyone and they look at her like she crazy 💀

like she says "Gojo could slash me across the back with a belt and make me flow on the inside out"

and everyone just whips their heads at her and just give her that look😭😭😭

(BRO IDK IF THAT WAS ME BEING WERID OR SIMPING💀💀💀)

Gojo Satoru X Simp/Flirty Reader.

a/n: Thank you @bootyholeater for this request, I had do much fun writing it💗. I hope you like it tho 🥹🫶🏻

WHERE ARE MY GOJO SATORU SIMPS AT?

warnings: fluff overload with some smutty flirting 🫦.

No one ever managed to make the famous Gojo Satoru blush, let alone stutter.. but guess what?.. You did ! Congratulations 👏🏻.

Both of you are Jujutsu high students, spending the day face to face with him made you fall head over heels for him.

He was your type, he was literally the male version of you but add a lot of boldness.

Because you would openly simp for him, in public, in private, even during Yaga sensei class.

“ So class, you'll be paired up for a mission. Y/n and Geto both of yo-”

“But Sensei, I wanna be paired up with Gojo!!”

“huh, any reasons?”

“IDK, he's hot” you'd shrug.

Let's say simping shamelessly is your love language.

You'd literally be armed with a repertoire of pickup lines reserved for him.

And your pickup lines never fail in making him grin from ear to ear.

You'd flip your hair around him a lot.

Literally teasing a tease.

A light touch on his arm that'll flutter his heart.

When you're with your classmates, you'd literally say the dirtiest shit ever.

You'd be spending the evening with them when you started your flirting duty.

“Do you know that 70% of your body is water?” you'd pause shifting your gaze to Gojo, “And I'm 100% thirsty”

“Really y/n? We thought you're sharing a scientific fact but I guess flirting with Gojo is more important” said Shoko shaking her head.

Gojo would burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Two peas in a pod, I swear to god” Exclaim Geto.

“What was your technique again y/n?”

“Baby-making technique wanna help in that.. Satoru?” you'd say with a wink.

“Nice blindfold Satoru, did you get rid of your sunglasses?” Asks Geto.

“yeah nice blindfold, wanna try that on me Satoru?”

“Seriously y/n? Again?”.

He loves the way you say his name, and loves your soft giggles.

He would turn off his infinity when you're around cuz he knows you get extremely touchy with him and FUCK he loves that.

“So what's you'll favorite food?” asked Geto.

“Oh, I'm a sweet tooth , I really enjoy sweets”

“Damn what a coincidence Gojo, me too. I enjoy sweets especially lollies, I enjoy sucking them”.

Geto would get his ass up and leave, he's so done with you.

You're literally unfazed by any awkwardness.

You don't care if your flirting comes out as cringe or cheesy, you said what you said and don't give a fuck as long as you're expressing yourself.

But 90% of the time your flirting is smooth ( like butter ).

You'd challenge him into a duel of pickup lines.

Literally made his jaw drop from all the raunchy lines you were directing to him.

“Your lap looks so inviting, inviting me to sit on it and roll my hips till we can't take it no more”

You'd never shy away, despite you being serious when you flirt with him, you always manage to create an atmosphere of lightheartedness for both of you ( definitely not others cuz they're whether cringing or shaking their heads in disappointment).

You'd always incorporate humor into your flirtation to the point that he thought that you're only joking and not really into him.

Geto would do you a favor and knock some sense into him, making him realize that you're actually giving him hints and not teasing him just for fun.

“Can't believe you're this dense Satoru”

“I- I thought she was just being playful”

The moment he knew, you had actual feelings behind your flirting, you'll start having an intense effect on him.

Geto would start teasing him, leading the conversation on to get you to flirt with him.

“So y/n who do you think is more handsome, me or Satoru?”

“Well Suguru you're handsome of course, but Satoru is the typa handsome that I would let him spank me with his belt and make me flow on the inside out”.

Their mouths would hang open from your extreme dirty simping.

His face would be crimson red, exposing him and betraying his attempt to look unfazed.

But he couldn't hide it, the effect you had on him was stronger.

“Satoru blushing? No fucking way” Said Shoko.

Geto is the sweetest he would help you with it.

After class you'd play Spin The Bottle and he managed to get you both together.

Would shove you both inside the closet, barely containing both of you.

He's a giant, big boy ( I need A big BoOoY).

You'd smirk “Finally, my moment has come”.

( I mean I'd pass out of excitement if I had 7 minutes in heaven with GOJO SATORU).

“So um D-do you h-hav”

“Why are you stuttering Gojo?”

“Fuck it” he would mutter, slamming his lips on yours, kissing the living shit out of you.

“Is this what you wanted huh?” he'd ask.

“Well if I'm being honest...I want more” you'd say with a mischievous smile.

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anantaru · 1 year

Note

about dacryphilia...same. all i want is for kaeya to fuck and edge me for hours until i cry only to keep going when he does let me come and overstimulate until im a sobbing mess and ask him to stop not really pls im extra thirsty today ❄️

kaeya takes great pleasure in pleasing you roughly and begins to fuck you harder, tossing his head back when you twist and turn under his body— and you beg him shamelessly to continue anyways, even with your cheeks being wet and daubed all over with your salty tears. "oh my." he sings against your pouty lips. in reality, he‘s just as desperate and lewd as you were— for your sticky cunt, your glazed eyes and weak wails, practically begging him to fuck you still— and he‘s giving you just that, thrusting into you so strikingly hard with his entire weight slanted on top of you now, his arms stuffed under your hips to use you as his own cute and pretty and perfect personal cocksleeve, "please— please, please!" your high pitched cries were like the finest, most benevolent melody to his ears and made him throb again and again until he had to bite down on his tongue, keeping his own low groans locked away from you. because your sounds— he needs to listen to them more carefully, they pass over your glistering lips so wonderfully and your pussy constricts around his shaft just right, messily drooling on his cock and kaeya fuckin loves seeing you like this as well as hearing you beg. for him.

#˚✩彡 ❄️ — anon'#kaeya smut #𖤣𖤥𖠿𖤣𖤥 thirsts'#tw dacryphilia #cw dacryphilia #fem! reader

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sugar-plum-writer · 2 months

Text

Valentines Day Special [Propose Day]

Paring: Gojo x Fem!Reader; Sukuna x Fem!Reader; Toji x Fem!Reader

Tags: Established relationship; Romantic; How would Propose day be with them~ A/n: What would different Valentines day be with them~

[If you like it and want more fics please comment, like and reblog~ thank you~]

GOJO:

He has the whole thing plan, you are married? It does not matter if it was up to him, he would re-marry you all over again as many times as humanly possible. You guys will go on a nice evening date, eat nice food, dressed well as if it was the night of your proposal maybe even wear the same outfit that you guys had worn years ago.

Walking down the streets, arm hooked to the other, maybe even a small dance if you guys are too flirty, sparkling light, faces a bit flushed from drinking wine and laughing. Next thing you know as you reach a nice spot, he’ll go down on one knee and propose again- strangers around you will think that you guys are getting engaged and cheer around him yelling “Yes! Say Yes!” not knowing you guys are in fact married.

Seeing your bright smile under the stars it’s as if you guys fell in love all over again. Love never ends rather keeps blooming into something more and more until even love falls in love with your relationship.

SUKUNA:

After the first day, he will actually look it up, the curiosity gets the best of him, can you blame him? Being so many years old he is still getting used to modern love.

Knowing it’s proposal day, he will actually dress up, and if you guys are married, he will still take you out on a nice formal dinner. He might look calm from the outside, the stoic expression unwavering, confidence to the highest degree, but unknown to you his heart is actually beating fast. Sure, he has had many women, but to propose to someone whom he treasures?

His ego won’t allow it but he is a bit excited. After the dinner, as you guys walk normally, you would not even suspect or get even a hint that he is going to propose. Suddenly as you guys walk, he will stop, and you’ll look at him confused as to what happened; but when you see him actually go down on one knee, the King of curses actually kneels for once in his life?

Your heart explodes, adrenaline kicks in making the blood rush to your face.

“Y/n?”

With a deep breath, he looked into your eyes

“Will you marry me?”

People around you seeing the scene cheer around, the words from his mouth were sinking and you ran- you ran towards him and hugged him as tears streamed down holding on to your eyelashes.

“Yes! Yes, I will! I love you!”

He froze a bit, not believing himself what had happened, but his heart was happy, sure you were his no doubt. But now to think you’ll be his even more- filled his heart with satisfaction. Maybe this Valentine's thing was not so bad afterall.

TOJI:

This man for once will get out of his baggy pants and shirt and wear a suit and fix himself, making you realize how hot of a boyfriend you really have. People stared at him before, and now you felt you were walking next to a celebrity, holy shit how hot is this man?

The annoying part? He knows he is hot, so he is unfazed, as if it’s just an average Tuesday for him. You know what else will he do? Use his hotness to seduce you all over again, oh honey this is just the beginning, he will purposely sweep his hair back, and show his forearms, the veins knowing exactly the type of things that get you going.

As you guys’ order, he’ll shamelessly flirt with you and lower his voice further sending goosebumps and chills down your body

“Oh really? I guess someone is thirsty”

“It’s not meaty enough for you darling, is it?”

“Better finish it all up after all, don’t you finish every last drop I give you?”

His hands making way up to your thighs smirking as he gives them a squeeze

God, he has you crazy for him and for you? He’s twice as crazy

As the dinner comes to an end you guys will make your way out and walk down the streets with his hands around your waist caressing it. As for proposing, he’ll do it on a day not today, why?

He hates to admit it but he wants the proposal to be special. He does not want to propose just because a calendar tells him, hence when the day arrives to propose to you-

He takes you on a vacation to the place you always wanted to go to, and does everything and anything to make it even more special, the best views, the best of the best- making you scream as you get all excited, an all-exclusive place? He somehow has the tickets to it, that one restaurant you wanted? It is conveniently near the place you guys were looking around at. As the vacation comes to an end, he will take you to watch the sunset near the beach and as you guys walk hand in hand- he will stop letting you walk a little further

Right when you turn around, he’s on his knees

“Y/n…”

To think he would be nervous when he was not nervous to fuck you against the wall in public

“Will…you marry me? Will you make me yours? Can... I be yours forever?”

"Yes! Oh my god Toji! Yes! a thousand times!", running towards him you buried your face on his neck

Link to my Masterlist! Link to full Valentines day post!

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thecameronchronicles · 1 year

Text

Territorial

TW: Smut. Language. Slightly Dom!Rafe. Slightly Dom!Reader.

SUMMARY: You make it quite clear who Rafe belongs to…

WORD COUNT: 2200

REQUESTED

Anonymous asked:

Jealous!reader where Sarah has a bunch of friends over and they’re all drooling over Rafe so reader (his girlfriend) takes him upstairs and leaves marks all over him and moans extra loud and when they go back downstairs she’s all smiles and Sarah’s friends can’t stop blushing

Territorial

The second the comment was made, his eyes lifted to you as if to ask for permission to respond. Yet, he wouldn't have to flex a brow or raise the edge of his mouth as you were wearing enough of an expression for you both. If looks could kill, you would have been suspected of second degree murder with a motive of being a crime of passion. Someone you once claimed to be a friend was a shameless and notorious flirt, harmless traces of her fingers to Rafe's arm seen as an instigation for war. To prove what was yours. To mark your territory.

Rafe tensed as your arms ran down his shoulders from behind. His breath rose in relief to the scent of your perfume reaching him as he turned to kiss you, causing the lounge chair to sound beneath him. With your eyes shifting to the girl dull enough to think she could ever care for Rafe as you could, you led your lips to his cheek. At the same moment, his hands collected yours softly.

"You look so lonely over here all by yourself..." You explained with a whine as he shifted over the fabric to the sound of that near whimper. The same one that made him understand he has offered himself as a job well done when you'd tremble beneath him. It was the reason his eyes came to a close, abandoning the pointless conversation ceased with your touch.

"You look so good...makes me want to get on my knees for you right here.." He gripped your hand, a momentary smirk fading for the contentment of his arousal.

"You know I love crying for you, Rafe...I love the reason why, too...Making you feel good makes me want to come..."

His grip was now wrapped entirely around your wrist, knuckles white from keeping from acting on what you clearly intended to have develop.

"I want you inside me Rafe...You can have me however you want...I just want you to make me scream-" His patience was shattered by your teasing as he tore you shamelessly through the crowd as the man on the mission he was. But before he could even manage a single step in ascension to the stairs leading to his room, you stopped him.

"Sorry sweetheart...You don't get to change your mind after making it very clear to me that I didn't take care of you well enough last night." You squealed as he pulled you over his shoulder. A smack to your ass leading you to wear a grin of pride, leaving behind the dismay of a 'friend' whose title was now whittled down to the cinders and smoke of 'rival'.

The door to his bedroom came closed by his heel forcing it to slam shut. Your body was led to the bed but infiltrated with a harsh grip to your hips.

"If you want me to make you come screaming, you're gonna need to take your clothes off..." You sweetened the sultry heat of the moment with a hand firmly set at his chest. The acceleration of his heart would be felt as a jackhammer to your touch as you teased his lips.

"I want you to tear it off of me-" In the attempt to do this, Rafe was left clasping for mid air as you sauntered to the bed. Legs crossed as your hands supported your position at the end of the bed.

"But first...I want you to kiss me." He lowered his gaze, looking through his brows, before rushing to appease you. But once again, you stopped him.

"Here..." You explained with a soft hand to his cheek, guiding his gaze to the legs now uncrossed for him.

"You better be as wet as you said...I'm thirsty-" You giggled before feeling a single kiss to your lips hold enough power to knock you flat. But your desire to feel him lower kept you upright. Yet as he attempted to withdraw, you pulled him back.

"Baby-"

"Just a little more...before you're stained with me." He pounced, weighing you down with himself before pressing your interlaced fingers into the mattress.

"I want every inch to be stained...Starting with..." His fingers already began at your sex, thin panties set as an easily adjustable obstacle before he made contact.

"And how long have you been ruining your panties for me?"

"Long enough." He scoffed, his finger led to your opening, a cold ring contrasting his finger.

"Oh, I still don't think that's enough, baby..." A second finger stretched you to more of a fulfilment you understood with his anatomy as your mouth pulled slack.

"Not yet."

"But it feels-"

"Not. Yet." He ordered as you clenched around him to try to keep your release at bay. But this only sent him to spread his fingers from within, bringing them back to that sacred g-spot that left your knees to tremor.

"You know the deal about wet panties..." He breathed over you, speaking behind a smirk. "I get to keep the ones you ruin..." He chuckled to himself.

"Which is why my eager girl always needs new ones..." He teasingly berated.

"Maybe you should stop wearing them altogether..."

"Everyone would see me dripping..."

"You think they don't know? Like they can't see the scratches on my chest or the bruises on your ass when you wear my favorite bikini?" He scoffed. "And YOU were the one who wanted to scream...and we both know it doesn't take much for you-"

"Ahhh....mmmm...Rafe...please..."

"So I'm going to make this last. Can't have them thinking I'm done with you just yet...Not when I'm just getting started..." His fingers retreated as he stood at the edge of the bed. A single force carried you to the ledge as His fingers came to his pants. Your eyes stationed at the button left undone as he diverted the immediate exposure to that of his shirt, now shirtless before you.

"You want to scream for me?" He asked bowing over you once more. Only now, taking hold of your hair and lifting you onto your elbows.

"Show me what I have to look forward to then...But don't come-"

"I can't, Rafe, I'm too close-"

"If you come, I'll leave your ass tied to this bed and go back to my party...maybe leave behind something that vibrates as you can't do anything but come over and over and over again...getting what you want ..making you happy..because I do that for my girl, don't I? Make you happy-"

"You make me come, Rafe, so please..."

"Not yet." You groaned as he lowered between your legs, but only until your eyes closed to his breath at your clothed sex.

"You said you were hungry..." Your eyes narrowed for only a moment in confusion before you were taken to the edge of the bed by a force of your ankles. Fingers softly at your cheek would slip into your hair and into a grip before you involuntarily kissed his toned stomach.

"Said you wanted to choke on me...Maybe it will give you a chance to cool off..." He smirked.

"Make me just as wet as you are, baby." His eyes came to that infamous slow roll as you obliged. But not even a second pump to your throat and he was moaning your name in a curse.

"You’re acting like I don't feed you, fuck!"

"You taste so good...." You moaned as he growled, your lips teasing only his head with a gentle kiss as he tore at your dress. Tearing the fabric low enough to reveal you to him, both breasts at attention from the lack of a bra, he took one to his grasp.

"Jesus...no bra...you were already half ready..."

"I'm always halfway there..."

"That right?" You nodded.

"Then you don't get anything else. Can't have you coming without me-"

"Rafe-"

"Don't whine or I'll think you're already coming. You save that for me..." You scowled.

"You know I'm good for it. Stop looking at me like that and finish what you started..." He guided the back of his knuckles to your cheek in a teasing graze before you resumed.

With each suction made around him, you wondered how long it would take for him to take possession of you once again. But just as you were motivated to bring him in the need to lose control, he was more steadfast to hold on to it. That being said, he still heaved over you with your name spoken between those quick and desperate breaths. The grip made within your hair was sporadic in an exertion of his strength until you wrapped your nails until his lower thigh. This allowed the stability needed to take him further. No pesky hand wrapped at his base to keep you from taking him fully.

"Fuck!" He grunted, having lost the battle as he fucked himself into your throat.

"Might have to come twice-"

You smirked to his desperation before the smirk felt around him had reminded him of this game. For that, you were taken to your feet for only a moment. He set you to stand between his legs, forcing the rest of your dress to the floor, before tearing your panties down to follow.

"Choking on me make you THAT wet?" You shook your head back and forth.

"Thinking what you're gonna do after makes me..." He scoffed.

"You won't have to think about it anymore. Come here." He pulled you over him into a straddle, setting a condom between his teeth before you took hold of the package.

"I want to feel all of you, Rafe-" Being on the pill made him agreeable to act on the remaining risk. It had been quite some time since you'd felt him this way and yet you craved it.

His bare cock slipped into you effortlessly with the help of gravity. Your body stiffening to the familiar stretch still foreign to your tight walls. Even if he was a frequent tourist between his favorite vacation destination between your thighs, you could never find it fully peaceful with those initial thrusts. All because of how endowed and skilled he had been. The scoff of pride validating that he knew this, as well, basking in that moment of pain before the rush of pleasure.

"This is the part you can scream for me now...Let her hear how good I make it for you..." You blushed. "Yeah baby, I know...I know you want her to hear you...so let her..." He took a hold to the back of your neck.

"No faking either. I want everything to be genuine. Believe me, I'll know the difference." Your eyes rolled as he guided you to and from his shaft, returning and rising you in perfectly synchronized motions. He filled you in the same way he neglected you, replacing that absence by then setting himself to bottom out within you.

"So fucking tight...So good for me...Wanting to come so hard...but not yet, baby..."

"RAFE! PLEASE!"

"I know baby...not yet..."

"I’m gonna-" he clenched his teeth, turning you onto your back. You were only stationary for a moment before he pulled your calf to rest at his shoulder as he curved over you.

"With me or not at all. You know how this goes."

"Then make me come, Rafe! Please!"

"Since you asked so loudly...." He winked, pounding into you. If the way your belting his name in pleading repetition did not inform her of your throughout plowing, then the battering of the headboard of the wall or his own cursed would vindicate your secure relationship.

"That's it baby, let her hear you...let everyone hear how much you love me fucking you-"

"Fuck. Me.". You grunted, drunk on the high teasing its approach. His thrusts, too deep. His speed, too perfect. His voice, too titillating.

"Rafe!" That whimper sounded as the trophy he fought to achieve. That final sound of pleasure that remained and an echo and accompaniment to his own release as he shook over you.

"Maybe next time I'll make you get on your knees for me so she can see why I'll only ever look at you..."

"All you have to do is ask..." You kissed him sweetly.

"Do you really worry about her?" He asked, dominance fading to concern as he helped set your zipper back in ascension.

"No."

"Must be nice." Your brows furrowed.

"What?"

"Every guy at that party was looking at you like you were a piece of fucking meat...Sorry baby..." He set a plan to your cheek. "I guess you weren't the only one trying to prove a point..."

"Which was?"

"You're mine. End of fucking story."

You nodded. "Let's make sure they got the message?" He nodded, leading you down the steps as Sarah was looking at you both with humored embarrassment. But her face was not the one you cared to note. That came in the sight of your friend. The very friend who had gotten the message loud and clear. A single kiss to Rafe's lips validating this to those he was insecure in front of, silencing his demons once again.

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @belcalis9503

MASTERLIST

RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

2nd RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

#rafecameron x reader #rafecameronfanfiction #rafecameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks #outer banks #obx #outer banks smut #obxsmut #obx fanfiction #drew starkey

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niilue · 1 year

Note

i know you love jiang cheng so can i ask for him being forced to masturbate for the reader? I can't get rid of the image of him blushing and cursing, wanting to go against your order but knowing you won't touch him until he obeys. whether he gets the reward of being able to cum or not is up to you ♡

ෆ ִ ׁ sub jiang cheng

cw; dom reader, sub character, gender neutral, forced masturbation, needy boy, reader kinda mean, shy but moody, jiang cheng

"i really hate you (name)" spat jiang cheng as he clutched his crotch, trying unsuccessfully to hide his wetness and hardness.

cute cute jiang, slightly flushed on his cheeks and what was more adorable was to see his ears red from the embarrassment of the situation.

"mmm, of course you don't hate me honey, just look at you." you walked up to him and gently took him by his chin. his eyes sparkled for a second when he thought you were going to kiss him. but you just smiled sideways and walked away.

leaving behind a very angry and needy jiang cheng, with his lips half open and wet and a more prominent scowl than before.

"you fucking idiot, you don't know how much I want to…" the black-haired man kept cursing you while you looked at him with desire, more and more.

you sighed and raised one of your eyebrows biting your lips. "shut your mouth, honey and let me see how much you want me." you sat up spreading your legs and patting your thighs. "if you're nice, maybe I'll let you ride here." you said teasingly.

jiang opened his mouth between indignant but damn tempted, you knew he was hard and thirsty for you. and you also knew how much he hated it when you ordered him around.

you lifted your shoulders nonchalantly and settled in ready for the show.

"get your hands off me, let me see."

reluctantly you did so, cursing what a pervert you are. "you're a freeloader."

as you watched the way his cock rose above his robes you could tell how fucking hard it was. so you wanted to play with his patience a little.

"rub your hands over your cock…- do it slow love, without cumming."

the man didn't love the way you commanded him but you did see the relief in his eyebrows as he touched his throbbing erection. using both his hands and the friction of the cloth to pleasure himself.

"mhng,aaah-" little sighs of pleasure escaped from his mouth. he didn't even look at your face you could swear this embarrassed him too much.

"watch me while you do it sweetie, don't get delicate when you're a slut." you said admiring him and laughing at how bad these words had made your lover feel.

"and you're a fucking bastard who loves this slut." he spat looking at you with watery eyes and trembling lips. still he obeyed your order and continued touching himself. this time his movements were faster.

"well, that's true i can't deny it." you winked at him making him squeal. "now take off that annoying garment and let me see your torso. i'm sure your nipples want to be touched too."

the man closed his eyes as the garment fell off and accidentally rubbed against your nipples, making him give a little jump that you'd swear almost made him run.

you watched as jiang cheng bit his lips while one of his hands pinched your sensitive pink button and with the other hand he used the palm of his hand to rub the tip of your nipple.

again and again. this was the simple order, to touch each other sensually and shamelessly in front of you, without cumming until you said so.

"nhg- fucking hell…isn't this enough to mortify (name) me, i'm already- ahggg!"

"don't even think about cumming, if you do, you'll face the consequences honey." you said in a serious manner.

jiang whimpered and did an annoying little kick, biting his lips hard and crossing his legs as he felt the excitement want to take over him.

he was sweating and panting constantly, his legs were shaking and he was a mess. too cute.

"do you like what you do? tell me what you would like from me?"

the black-haired man snorted and looked away, still touching himself, obviously. ignoring your question.

"come on love, it's nothing i don't know."

"then what the hell do you want to hear it for, huh?" he said angrily.

you took the opportunity to pull down your lower clothing, leaving nothing exposed on him.

"if you tell me, the next thing you'll see is you riding me like a maniac, my love.

#dom reader #sub characters #jiang cheng x smut #sub jiang cheng #mdzs #dom x sub #dom!reader #gender neutral dom #sub mo dao su zhi #mo dao su zhi #jiang cheng #seme male reader #male domination #x smut #smut #mo posts #sub character

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starstruckkittensweets · 1 year

Text

“Everything” Pt. I | Dabi x Reader

“You love him—everything he was, everything he is, and everything he will be.”

Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Dabi x Reader Words: 13.9k

A/N: I’m a slut for Dabi. Scratch that—I am a MASSIVE slut for Dabi. And that couch scene in 6x17 only solidified my obsession with him. I have no excuse for this fic, except that it’s angsty, filthy, and way too long for its own good. I just have too many thoughts on Dabi as both a character and a love interest and I shamelessly projected myself onto Reader the entire time writing this. I wanna hold him and tell him it’s all gonna be okay, but at the same time I wanna fuck his brains out like there’s no tomorrow. The second half will be uploaded later this week, once I finish editing it. I hope you enjoy! (Now let me go hide my face in shame...)

Also a huge thank you to my dear friend @lostinwildflowers, who’s just as thirsty for Dabi as I am! Birch, it’s because of you cheering me on that this fic finally got finished! (And further down the rabbit hole we go!)

Warnings: 18+ only (minors please DNI), fem-bodied reader, spoilers for Season 6 (up to Episode 17 at least), Reader and Dabi may or may not be in the healthiest mindset to fuck right now (that won’t stop em though), Reader is somewhat dependent on Dabi, oral sex (f. receiving), face sitting, vaginal sex, spanking, quirk use, branding, crying (Reader is a bit of a crybaby but she means well), hair pulling, fingering, blood tears, Dabi’s an asshole and doesn’t want to admit that Reader actually loves and cares for him

Part I | Part II

You’ve been to this mansion exactly three times before.

The first time was in the middle of the fall, when the leaves were crisp and the winds were brisk. It was an old shabby building in the middle of nowhere, worn out and run down by the countless inhibitors that came before you. At the time Dabi had brushed it off, claiming they were no longer a threat to you, that it was now the perfect little getaway from the rest of the world. (As long as the rest of the League was off elsewhere, of course.)

He had wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you down on that ratty old couch, the one with faded gold carvings and fluff poking out of the torn cushions. You had been a little wary at first; it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant smell in the world. But he kept you busy with his burning kisses and wandering hands, and eventually you dozed off right there in his arms, with his chest pressed against your back.

The second time was in the dead of winter, just before the New Year. You had forced him down on that damn couch and pressed every wad of gauze you could find to the fresh wounds on his arms and torso. The bastard had been too rough and ripped his staples again, a thin trickle of red seeping down his skin. You had yelled at him for that, as though you were his mother and not just the girl he’d preferred to keep his bed warm. So loud your voice rang throughout the halls of the mansion, enough for Twice and Toga to peek their heads around the corner to see what all the fuss was about.

The third time was a little more pleasant, on the eve of the eighteenth of January. A night of strolling around the city too far from home led you back to the quiet mansion—luckily you were the only ones there at the time. The two of you were tipsy on whatever booze Dabi had managed to get his hands on that day; your lips were thrumming from his kisses, your body as light as a feather in his arms. He carried you into a secluded room on the second floor, the one he’d claimed for his own so long ago, and his fingers pressing into the meat of your thighs. Before you knew it you were being crushed beneath him on the bed, moaning his name into his mouth as he slipped your shirt over your head.

Neither of you awoke until late the next morning, when he oh-so generously accompanied you on the walk back to your apartment, pulling a worn black hoodie over your head to hide the bruises on your neck and arms. It was frayed at the sleeves and smelled of smoke, but it was the warmest thing you’d ever worn in your life.

And now you’re standing outside this mansion a fourth time, with that old hoodie hugging your chest, keeping out the last winter chill of the season.

The League has never kept the doors locked—both for easy access and knowing just how they managed to wipe out the last group that lived in this mansion—so it’s not hard to slip in through the front. The halls are dark and silent, the scent of musk so strong you cover your nose with the sleeve of the hoodie. Not like smoke is much better, but still…

And that’s when you hear it: a faint chuckle, deep and raspy, at the very end of the hall. The slightest flicker of blue coming to life among the shadows.

You swallow once, stilling your trembling fingers in the pockets of the hoodie, and start to walk forward.

He’s standing there in the middle of the living room (at least that’s what Toga calls it; it only has a couch and a few dressers for decorations, mostly the knives she likes to keep on display for the rest of you to see). Your jaw drops at the sight of marred skin, a deep purple shade stretching across the length of his back, over his arms and down to his hipbones. He grunts as he presses down hard on one of the staples in his wrist, locking it back into place with a sigh.

You gasp, but he doesn’t turn around at the sound. Instead he rolls his shoulders back, cocks his head as he focuses on another staple splitting his skin apart.

“Dabi.” Your voice is a whisper, too quiet for him to hear. Or maybe he’s just ignoring me. You clear your throat and try again: “Dabi, you’re hurt. I can—”

He says your name then, and your blood turns to ice in your veins. He heaves a sigh as he tugs out a rusted staple from his wrist, flicking it to the ground before reaching for a fresh one on the dresser closest to him.

“I told you to stay away. So go home.”

Your breath catches in your throat; your heartbeat echoes in your ears. The black hoodie suddenly feels too snug around your neck as you glare at him, at the ragged skin his flames have left behind.

“You’re not serious. Two weeks—no, three weeks of complete radio silence, and that’s all you have to say to me?” It’s getting harder to stare at him when your eyesight’s getting all blurry. You brush your eyes with the sleeve of the hoodie, but that just makes you feel even worse. Damn smoke.

He doesn’t answer, only winces as another new staple buries itself into the skin of his wrist. You take a step forward, ready to clean the blood off his back or smack him upside the head, you’re not sure which one just yet.

But then he’s staring at you from over his shoulder, and all you can see are the patches beneath his eyes, the fresh burns stretching past the silver staples in his cheeks.

“Why are you here?” he asks, and you shiver at the forlorn look in those beautiful blue eyes. “You’re supposed to be home by now, it’s getting late. Leave already.”

“No.” The words pour out of you so fast you barely register what you’re saying. “Not again. I’m not leaving after you—” You swallow the lump in your throat, well aware of those eyes on you. “…After seeing that video—I couldn’t even…”

Fuck, it seems so long ago. Nearly a month of silence from Dabi, of sitting in your apartment wondering if you should leave the window unlocked for him even though he hates it, of checking your phone for any messages from unknown numbers, of constantly wondering if there was anything you could’ve said or done to keep him from walking out that night—

To staring at the little TV in your living room, a broken mug lying at your feet, your second cup of coffee soaking through the carpet. To feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you saw him, burn scars and all, revealing the truth about himself and the family he’d come from.

“Touya.”

It used to be your little secret. Something he mumbled into your hair as you patched him up one night, assuring him and yourself that he wouldn’t die. Something you’d panted into his mouth as he pressed you into the mattress in your bedroom, curling his fingers around your own. Something he’d trusted you with.

And now everyone knows about it; his family, his story, his name. Everyone knows and he can’t take it back.

But a part of you thinks he doesn’t want to take it back. That wild look in his eye, that gleeful smile that nearly rips his staples apart. The world is in shambles because of him and he fucking loves it.

“Touya,” you try again, “let me help you. You…you need to be cleaned up, I can take care of you…”

He makes no move to run as you step closer, hands barely brushing his ragged arms. Tears are spilling down your cheeks, mirroring the trickles of blood sliding down his chest. You can remember burning your hand on the stove so many years ago, even when your mother warned you to be careful. You had whined about the pain until she wrapped it up and gave you a kiss, chiding you for acting like such a child.

You can’t imagine being burned like this—your body being eaten by your own flames—the thought makes your stomach roll into itself.

“C’mon.” You pull him closer to the dresser, grimacing at the tray of fresh staples in front of you (as well as its bloodied twin). A familiar dance for the two of you. “I got you.”

You’re safe with me.

He’s silent as you clean out his wrists, leaving bloody tissues all across the dresser and floor, wincing at every bit of silver biting into his skin. Open, close, open, close. He doesn’t complain, not even once as you try your best to stitch him up. You keep your mouth shut, even though your tongue is burning with all the things you want to say. Too scared that even the slightest bit of noise will chase him off again, and you’ll be left at square one once more.

When the blood is cleaned off and the staples are secured, you steal a glance at the palm of his hand. Cringing as the rough purple skin stretches all the way up to his fingers. Can he still feel anything? Or are his nerves shot for good?

The thought makes your stomach churn. Without thinking you lean into his palm, splaying his fingers across your cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sor—”

“For what?”

His voice is rough, and when he pulls his hand away you want to burst into tears. He gives your head a messy pat, mussing up your hair before walking to the other end of the room.

“You got nothin’ to feel sorry for, doll. So don’t go saying shit that’s not true.”

Your tongue feels heavy against my lips. “W-what?”

“You patched me up, I won’t bleed out. So you can go already.” He sprawls himself across that ratty old couch, legs hanging off the arm as he drapes a hand across his forehead. “Leave.”

“But… I don’t want to…”

Suddenly you feel like a child again, clinging to your parents and begging them for just five more minutes of fun before bedtime. There’s a horrible nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach, laughing at you, taunting you for how stupid you are.

He doesn’t want you here. Just get out of here before you make things worse.

But you know that if you walk out that door right now, you may never see this man in the flesh ever again.

You can’t let him get away. Not again—not ever.

“I’m staying.” Dabi’s eyes are practically glowing in the dark, watching your every move as you cross the room to follow him. “You don’t get to tell me that after all this time. So I’m staying, whether you like it or not. So stop trying to get me to leave!”

The chuckle he gives sends a chill down your spine. He leans further into the couch and rests his arm against his forehead.

“Everyone leaves sooner or later, dollface.”

Oh.

That’s where his mind is at right now.

He likes to put up a front. Likes to hide behind sarcastic comments and unimpressed looks. Shows off his power any chance he gets just to remind everyone how strong he is, how easily he could incinerate everyone with a single flick of his hand.

But you can still see the little boy with white hair, begging for his father’s approval, masking his sadness with a smile.

“…Well, I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon.” You flump down on the floor with a huff, back pressing into the worn out couch, legs sprawled out in front of you. “So get used to having me around.”

He doesn’t seem happy, but at least he’s not trying to get you to leave anymore. For now, at least.

The two of you bask in the silence of the shadowy room, neither one acknowledging the other. You pull your knees up to your chest and keep your eyes forward, staring at the sliver of moonlight that seeps through the single window ahead, as Dabi’s soft breathing lulls you into a semi-relaxed state.

There are so many things you want to tell him, to ask him, to scream at him. Why didn’t you come home after that night? What did I do wrong to make you stay away? Why do you insist on pushing me away when you know all I want to do is help you?

It’s still so raw, the memory of his last night in your apartment. Early February—just two days shy of Valentine’s Day, the prick—at close to three in the morning. One minute you were sleeping soundly in your bed with his arms wrapped around your waist; the next you were begging him not to leave, fat tears streaming down your cheeks.

Demanding to know why he decided to leave after all this time, after so many months of bliss. Recalling the promise you’d made to him on his birthday in this very house, in the old room he’d claimed for himself. And when that didn’t work you started throwing things—pillows, clothes, his stupid pack of cigarettes—anything you could get your hands on. Anything to get him to stay, even for just one more night.

But he’d pulled on his shirt and walked out the door—the first time he’d ever used the door instead of the window. He left you there in the living room, tearing at your hair as your chest wracked with sobs.

I hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I fucking—

“Still have that shitty hoodie, huh?”

His voice is raspy when he speaks, a low sound that snaps your head from your arms. You try not to look at him as you nod, hugging your knees closer to your chest. A whiff of smoke crosses your nose when you tug the collar of the hoodie over your mouth, as though it were a scarf.

“Looks good on you, doll.” Dabi gives a breathless laugh, and it’s hard not to turn your head to look at him. Of all the things he could talk to you about, he chooses that?

Maybe it’s just his way of appeasing you, as though you’ll forget the last few weeks ever happened.

“Better on you than me; I always hated wearing it. Too stuffy and hot. It always got—”

“Caught on your staples, I know.” The words are already falling from your mouth; no matter how hard you grip your arms or bite your tongue, they just keep on coming. “That’s why you don’t like to wear sweaters, they make you itch and you overheat way too fast.”

Silence—for a moment you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. You swallow hard and twist your head, nails biting into the sleeves of the hoodie. His arm is over his eyes, but you can still see the slight quiver in his jaw when you start talking.

“I know you can’t stand being in a car for more than ten minutes, or else you’ll start to feel sick. I know you like to drink but not too much, because you hate the way it makes you feel like you’re losing control of your body. You hate the way your head starts swimming and you have to lay down with a rag on your head. I know you prefer Camels but you can’t always find them, and that’s why I keep a stash of them on the kitchen counter, in case you end up running out.”

Your hands are clenched into fists now, your heart leaping in your throat with every word you say. You have no idea if he’s even listening, or if he’s fallen asleep from exhaustion or boredom. But there’s no stopping the words from spilling out, your tongue burning with every syllable, every breath you suck in just to calm your racing heart.

“You like sleeping on your left side rather than your right because you think it helps you fall asleep faster—and it doesn’t hurt as much, the worst of your scars are on your right side. You’re a fan of that special cherry-scented shampoo in my bathroom, the one you always use whenever you beg me to bathe with you. You still have that stupid keychain I got for you last Christmas, the one that splits into two halves of a heart. And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you leave out some food for the stray cats in the alley behind my apartment—because I know it’s you. Only you could leave a tray of cat food smelling like an ashtray, dummy.”

That was quite a sight to wake up to: a ragtag group of kittens right below your kitchen window, lapping up food from a little silver tin—something that had definitely not been there the night before. And while the whole alleyway smelled of smoke and ash, there wasn’t a single cigarette stub to be found on the pavement. Too worried one of the cats might decide to chew on them, probably. As much as he tried to downplay it, Dabi did have a soft spot for animals. He had a heart of his own, somewhere in that scarred, ragged chest of his.

Which is why this whole situation hurts you so much. You know he cares about whatever kind of bond the two of you have. You know he’s so much more than what he claims to be. You know that deep down inside him, he’s still the boy with the bright blue eyes—Touya Todoroki, the boy who dreamed of becoming a hero one day.

I know you, so let me in. I’ll still be by your side, no matter what you do.

“And I know that I could never leave you when you’re in pain like this, even if you tell me to.” It’s hard to keep your voice soft, but you try your best anyway. Anything for him. “Even if you scream at me and try to scare me, I’ll never leave you. Not now, and not ever. So please, just…”—suddenly there’s a lump in your throat, your eyes growing blurry at the edges—“…let me help you.”

He could scoff and brush you off. He could glare and demand for you to get out. He could crush you so easily, referring to the last actual conversation you had, where he claimed you were nothing more than a way for him to blow off some steam. He could incinerate this entire mansion, taking you down with it—and quite possibly himself. But no matter what happens, or what he may do, you have to stand your ground. You made a promise not only to him, but to yourself as well. To keep the two of you safe, even if the entire world stood against you. To love him until you took your dying breath, and to trust in him to do the same for you.

I don’t care what you’ve done or who you are, or even what you plan to do. No matter what happens, I will always have a special place in my heart for you.

Those were the exact words you’d said to him on his birthday, in this very mansion. And you still meant every single one of them, as if you’d said them just moments ago.

“…C’mere.”

Your mouth falls open when he finally moves his arm away from his face, only to drum his fingers against his bare chest. Those blue eyes are unnaturally bright, beckoning you closer—as though he’s the devil you’ve been warned to stay away from your entire life.

It’s a bit awkward at first, stumbling off the floor and crawling up the length of his body. But there’s no word of protest, no sign of discomfort as you throw one leg over his waist, settling down on his hips as gently as you can. Suddenly those scarred palms are stretching out to you, and you lean in to press a line of kisses across the fresh purple marks.

“Stubborn little shit.” The words are harsh but there’s no bite to them—only a soft glint in those beautiful eyes of his. “It’s too late for you to head back home already, isn’t it?”

You give him a shrug, dragging your mouth to the inner part of his wrist. “I guess so. Like hell am I leaving you here all alone with those injuries.”

You both know he’s lived through worse, a few misplaced staples aren’t going to kill him overnight. But you’ll take any excuse you can get to stay with him, even for just a bit longer.

He hums at that, leaning his head against the arm of the couch. His fingers are warm against your skin, brushing across your forehead as he sweeps a few stray pieces of hair off to the side. When he’s done you take ahold of his wrist again, pressing a few kisses against the fresh staples in his palm, as soft as you can manage. That gets a laugh from him—short and breathless, but a laugh nonetheless.

“Never know when to quit, do you? You keep chasin’ after me, even when I tell you not to. I thought you had a brain in that pretty little head of yours, doll.”

“I do, and I could’ve easily let you bleed out from your wounds.” You run your hands across the staples on his chest, down his abdomen before working your way back up his arms. “But I didn’t, because I’m just that kind of person.”

“Hm, a good girl who’s got a soft spot for a dangerous villain?”

“You’re not a villain,” you tell him, even though you both know that’s a blatant lie. “And I don’t have just a soft spot for you. I…”

One minute the words are there on your tongue—and the next your lips are pressed together, too afraid to speak as those burning blue eyes bleed into your own.

I love you. That’s all you have to say; three simple words, and your fate is sealed.

So…why are they so fucking hard to say out loud?

You do love him. You love him so much your chest aches whenever you look at him. It hurts whenever you know he’s putting himself in danger, risking his life to destroy what made him this way in the first place. He tries to hide it with a cocky smirk and a few flirtatious comments, but you know him better than that. This is the same man who huddles deep under the blankets of your bed with you, even though he claims they’re too scratchy against his skin. The same man who rests his head in your lap and lets you play with his hair, who will sometimes ask about whatever book you’re currently reading at the moment. The same man you’ve caught, on at least two separate occasions, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, hunched over the running sink, a thin trail of blood trickling from the staples embedded beneath his eyes. The same man who doesn’t even protest as you wrap your arms around him and lead him back to bed, reminding him of just how much he’s needed—how much you need him—with gentle kisses and soft-spoken words.

You love him—everything he was, everything he is, and everything he will be.

He reaches up and presses his thumb and forefinger into your chin, bringing your face down to his. Apparently you’re taking too long to respond.

“Listen to me, doll.” A shiver sweeps down your spine at the familiar pet name. “Are you really willing to sign your life away for a piece of shit like me?”

There he goes again, degrading himself and his worth. Sometimes you wish you could meet the man who did this to him. Stare his father straight in the eye and demand to know what prompted him to treat his own son this way. As though if he wasn’t the epitome of perfection, he was just a worthless waste of space.

“We’ve been over this, Touya.” You can see the twitch of his jaw at his name, his real name spilling from your lips. “You are not a piece of shit. And I wouldn’t be signing anything away; I knew damn well what I was getting myself into when I let you kiss me for the first time.”

A memory from so long ago, of drunken laughter and his heavy coat draped over your shoulders—and your incessant whining that the sleeves weren’t long enough to keep you warm. He had rolled his eyes and shut you up with a kiss, before scooting over to sit behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. Claiming that he would keep you warm instead, while you’d been too stunned to speak. Too preoccupied with the taste of his lips—of booze and smoke…and of the slightest scent of cedarwood.

“You’re a pain in my ass and you always know what to say to push my buttons, and I’m still pissed at you for leaving that night—and not coming to visit afterwards. You’re an asshole, no way around it.”

You can feel the tension slipping from your shoulders, the cloud of frustration finally easing from your mind as you reach down to take his face in your hands. Palms pressed against his ragged skin, thumbs grazing the staples below his eyes, savoring the way his lips part at your touch, the way his eyelids flutter as you lean in close. His fingers are burning against your waist, but you trust him not to burn you to ash. You still trust him, even though he’s given you every reason not to.

“But you’re mine. My pain in the neck, my villain, whatever you want to call yourself. My Dabi, my Touya—it doesn’t matter to me, as long as I get to have you.”

It’s the closest you can get to those three damn words without bursting into tears. But he seems to understand, because suddenly he’s twisting his hands into your hair and yanking you down for a searing kiss.

You can remember the first time he kissed you, how you knew you would never get tired of feeling his mouth on your own, or tasting his lips, or seeing the smug look on his face as he pulled himself away, just to see you breathless and begging for more. It’s still the same now, more or less, but with an underlying heat between your bodies. An undeniable wave of desire, crashing over your heads until the only thing you can see, touch, taste, is each other.

A groan slips through his mouth as he tugs you up the length of his body, mismatched lips finding their way to the familiar pulse point in your neck. He’s quick with his work, sucking a fresh bruise just below your jaw, where he knows his hoodie won’t be able to reach. It’s hard not to whine as he works his way down your neck, nipping and sucking as you bury your face and fingers into his soft white hair.

Fuck, you’ve missed this. How long has it been since he’s held you against his body like this, drawing out this wild side, this primal need for him, that only he can hope to tame?

Too long—too fucking long.

“D-Dabi,” you’re panting against his hair, moaning as he ruts his hips up into yours. “…It’s too dark in here—n-need to see you—”

He’s sitting up in a flash, one arm coiled around your waist with his other stretched out behind him. A gentle stream of flame erupts from his palm, illuminating his eyes before settling into the fireplace beside the couch. A thin trail of smoke rises from his wrist, reminding you of all the cigarettes he would smoke out on your balcony in the dead of night.

“Better, doll?”

“Better,” you whisper, and he smirks before pressing his mouth to yours once more.

For a moment, you forget about everything that’s led you up to this point. For a moment there’s no war between heroes and villains, no innocent civilians caught in the crossfire, no heartbroken memories or damning videos. There’s just the two of you within these four walls, all alone for the first time in almost a month.

And fuck if you’re not going to take advantage of every single second you can.

You push down on his chest, mindful of the scars and staples, and he falls back against the arm of the couch with a grunt. That lopsided smirk, the mischievous glint in his eye—he looks way too pleased with himself, a surefire warning to be on guard. He can be dangerously unpredictable in bed, more so after a mission or a fight with some heroes. All that adrenaline pumping through his veins gives him an extra edge, one he’s all too willing to exploit when he’s tangled up with you.

“Let’s get this off,” he mumbles, lifting the hem of your hoodie, his hoodie over your stomach.

“I’ll be cold,” you whine, but you still let him slip it over your head.

“Don’t worry, doll.” He tosses it to the floor, his mismatched lips grazing the shell of your ear. “I’ll be sure to keep you warm.”

Your shirt follows not too long after, and then he’s kissing his way across your chest, needy fingers already fumbling with the clasp of your bra. You roll your eyes and bat his hands away, and it’s hard not to giggle at the unimpressed look on his face. As though you had the sheer audacity to deny him of what’s rightfully his.

“Your turn, dummy. I’m not gonna be the only one who gets stripped down tonight.”

“Aww, this isn’t enough for you?” He motions to his bare chest with a wave of his hand, looking even more offended when you shake your head at him.

“No, not yet.” He groans when you shift a bit lower in your place against his hips, thumbing the silver button of his pants, licking your lips at the thin trail of white hair that disappears below the waistband. “I wanna see even more of you.”

“Then you better work for it,” he growls, but the feral look in his eye and the way his lip curls over his teeth tells you he wants this just as much as you do. He nestles into the arm of the couch, hands resting behind his head, as he gives an experimental buck of his hips—one that makes you gasp and your face flush with heat.

“You want it that badly, doll? Then show me what you’re made of.”

“Oh I plan to, Touya.”

You crush your mouth against his own, fumbling with that tiny silver button, sighing into his mouth when you finally manage to unclasp it. Your fingers dip down beneath the waistband, down the fabric of his boxers and over the slick patch of skin beneath. He’s so hot, literal flames coursing through his veins with every breath he takes. So dangerous, so lethal.

But you’ve never been scared of him, and you don’t plan on starting now.

He sucks in a sharp breath as he lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to slip his pants down to his thighs. But when you drag them down to his knees his hand suddenly curls around your wrist, freezing you in place.

His eyes are wide, his mouth agape, his fingers trembling against my skin.

“Doll…”

It’s not a warning, rather a plea. And it makes your heart ache in your chest all over again.

He’s always kept some of his clothes on during sex, even if they irritate his skin. Usually it’s enough for him to lower his pants just enough to free himself, especially if you’re in a well-lit room. Unless you’re in complete and total darkness, he refuses to strip down completely when he’s with you.

Part of you thinks he’s ashamed of the scars. You know exactly how much of his body they cover, from his face, down his chest, and over his legs. But you’ve never shied away from them, even when they’re still fresh and steaming. They’re just a part of him, the same as his eyes or his hair or that sharp tongue he likes to flaunt around. Another bit of Dabi you’ve grown to admire and love.

“Let me see,” you whisper, kissing the healthy swath of skin on his cheek. “You’re beautiful, Touya, and I want to see all of you.”

Touya, Touya, Touya. How many times has that name crossed your lips? How many nights had he drawn it out of you, breathless and soft as you squirmed beneath his body? How many times did you whisper it into your pillow, tears staining your lashes, as your last night replayed itself over and over again in your head?

Such a lovely name, and you’re still so proud of him for trusting you with it.

“Because you’re mine, right?” His fingers slowly unravel themselves from your wrist. Slowly, but surely. “You’re mine, as much as I’m yours… If you’ll have me, that is,” you add with a nervous giggle.

You’ve been so caught up in wanting to prove to him that you want him, that you never stopped to check if he wants you in the same way. I guess that’s what I get for being so eager.

He scoffs, tangling his fingers in your hair once more. “Fuck, you know I want you, dollface.”

Your chest swells with pride—and something else you’re not quite ready to put a label on just yet.

“I’m glad to hear that. Now lift your hips, I wanna see you.”

There’s a rustle of fabric, the sting of staples as he kicks his heavy boots and pants off and onto the dusty floor. Large patches stretch along his legs, marred skin mixed with healthy flesh, rusty staples and crude stitching piecing him all together. It’s a sight that makes your chest ache, one that would’ve made your stomach roll at one point or another. Just another reason for you to despise the bastard who did this to him.

His kisses are light against your lips, a stark contrast to the harsh rut of his hips beneath you. Trace every bit of skin and staples you can find with your fingers, ragged and smooth, until it blends together beneath your palms. Until the only thing you can feel is Dabi.

He manages to slip your pants down over your ass, letting you lean on him just enough to slide out of them and toss them on the floor. That gets a chuckle out of both of you; it’s not exactly easy to undress while simultaneously trying not to fall off this old fucking couch. For a brief moment you wonder if you should move upstairs to an actual bed, but that thought quickly turns to dust when he dips a finger into your panties, and you realize you can’t fucking wait any longer.

“Oh? So fucking wet already, aren’t you?”

He smirks against your mouth, dragging a couple of fingers across the slick patch of skin. You gasp and roll your hips, and he seems to gain some of his confidence back—you can feel it in the way he touches you, his fingers teasing your soaked slit.

“Tell me, did you just get this wet for me now, or did you walk in here already dripping like a bitch in heat?”

A shudder courses through your veins, nails finding purchase in his scarred shoulders. Not too rough, you don’t want him to start bleeding again, not so—

“Answer me.”

You’re squirming in his lap as he spreads your folds apart, his thumb barely ghosting over your clit. But when you try to squeeze your thighs together he tightens his grip and slaps your ass hard.

“J-just now,” you manage to choke out between gasps, “…I-I swear—”

“Hm, my pretty doll,” he whispers, and his fingers curl around your chin to pull you closer, “for some reason, I don’t fucking believe you.”

He’s pulling away all too soon, smirking when a whine slips past your mouth. He shifts himself lower on the couch, his head resting on the cushion rather than the arm. He licks his lips, brings his hand to his face—the same one he just had buried between your thighs—and taps his mouth with the tip of his finger.

“C’mon, doll. Sit on my face like a good girl.”

It’s almost laughable how fast you’re tearing your panties off, absolutely pathetic how easily you submit to his will. It’s been too long since you’ve had a night like this, a night where the only two people in the world are you and him.

He groans when you settle yourself over his face, nails digging into the ratty arm of the sofa, shivering at the touch of his hands on your waist. His palms are warm—too warm to be natural. And sure enough you can see a wisp of blue emitting from his palm, before he tugs your entire weight down to sit on his face.

“Dabi, wait—”

Your breath catches at the first brush of his tongue, that familiar piercing he has right on the tip—shit, he knows just how that drives me crazy—

“Y-you’re staples!” Another gasp as he holds you in place, his palms heating up ever so slightly against your outer thighs. “Just d-don’t rip them out—ah—be c-careful!”

“’S fine,” he mumbles, pulling himself away just enough to lick at his wet lips, “I know you’ll just patch me up again if I tear them out.”

You don’t even have time to argue before he’s forcing you down on his face again, lapping at your pussy like a starved man. It’s all so exhilarating—the heat of his hands, the slight pinch of the staples in his jaw, the way his tongue slides against your folds in every way imaginable—

Suddenly his lips find their way around your clit, sucking hard and fast—and you sink your nails into the white roots of his hair.

“Dabi!”

You’re grinding yourself on his face now, gasping as each thrust brings you right against his tongue, his nose bumping against your burning clit. His eyes are glowing beneath your body, matching the shade of the flames in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the two of you. So warm, so comforting, so powerful—and absolutely feral.

He slips his tongue inside, tightens his grip on your thighs as he rocks you back and forth on his face. Your palms are slick with sweat, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as you scream out his name at the top of your lungs. So loud you’re surprised any heroes that may be nearby don’t start breaking down the doors and crashing through the windows. Though you have no doubt in your mind Dabi would refuse to stop at this point, no matter what could be lurking beyond these walls.

“Dabi, Dabi, Dabi…” His eyes flicker up to yours, his eyebrow quirked and his nose pressing against your clit. “I—ngh—I can’t take it—please, let me come—”

Like he needs to be told twice.

His nails sink into the flesh of your thighs—part of you is already wondering if you’ll still have bruises by tomorrow morning—and he starts thrusting your hips against his tongue at a rapid pace. You try your best to keep up and rock yourself against him but he’s just too fast. Never mind the strain on your muscles, the coil in your stomach that’s growing tighter and tighter with every buck of your hips. You might as well be a toy at this point, boneless and pretty, made for his pleasure rather than your own.

A doll. His doll.

And suddenly you’re bursting at the seams, the corners of your eyes sparkling with stars, the coil in your stomach finally snapping apart. Dabi’s all too eager to lap up your release, his tongue making you shiver as you gush all over his face.

“Such a good girl,” his voice is raspy as he finally lifts you off of him, circling his hands over the fresh marks on your thighs.

Your sight’s a little hazy, but you can still make out a few split staples on each side of his mouth, ripped apart between burned and healthy skin. But he’s on you before you can say a word, hoisting you into his arms and pulling you against his chest, with your legs wrapped around his waist. He presses his mouth to yours, dragging his tongue across your own, smirking when you gasp at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“Still taste so fucking good, dollface.” Suddenly he’s pushing his hands on your chest, caging you against the cushions of the couch, his elbows on either side of your head. “I think you’re ready for my fingers now. You think so?”

You’re nodding as hard as you can, nearly clunking your foreheads together, and he lets out one of those rare laughs you’ve come to love so much.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, yes—fuck, I’m ready!”

This is Dabi in his element: painfully patient, well aware of the power he holds over your body, and relishing every single second of it.

He hums in delight, slipping a finger beneath the strap of your bra, resting against your shoulder. “Take this off for me—unless you want it turned to ash.”

You’re certain the clasp snaps apart with how fast you rip it off, tossing it over the arm of the couch. He smirks again as he lowers his head, pressing a kiss to your breast. A stark contrast to the primal way he was handling you earlier, but it makes you whine all the same.

He’s slow with his movements now, kneading your breasts together, pressing a line of kisses down your chest, dragging his tongue against the pulse point in your neck. He’s so soft and gentle you can feel your eyes fluttering shut, the exhaustion from your orgasm finally catching up to me.

“Dabi,” your voice is soft against his temple, “Dabi, I—ah!”

He slides a finger inside, smirking down as he brushes his mouth against your forehead.

“Eyes on me, doll. Don’t want you dozing off on me just yet, now do we?”

You can’t find the words to answer him as he adds another finger, curling them upward, drawing out another pathetic whine from the pit of your chest.

“We’re not even close to bein’ done for the night, so you just keep those pretty little eyes open for me, and let me do all the work. You understand?”

You start to nod but think the better of it, opting to choke out, “Y-yeah, I do…”

“Hm, so you can listen.” He starts pumping his fingers at a gentle pace, keeping his other arm beside your head on the couch. You can’t stop yourself from squirming beneath him as he curls his fingers, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit.

“D-Dabi—”

“Good girl,” he hisses against your temple, “good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s achingly slow with his thrusts, dragging his fingers against every inch of you, every bit of flesh he can reach. Your hands find their way around his shoulder blades, nails cutting into the scarred skin as he presses down hard on your clit. You’re squealing against his mouth now, dragging your hands down the ragged skin, wincing when you pull away and see a faint shadow of red beneath your nails.

“Shit, I’m so s-sorry,” the bastard’s still pumping his fingers into you, “I-I didn’t mean to m-make you bleed—”

But he’s quick to shush you, his other hand hovering over your neck. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, pretty girl, it’s not important.”

Like hell it is, I’m not patching you up again just because you like it rough—

“Ah, there it is.” He smirks as he brushes his fingers upward, hitting that special spot that has you whining and squirming and digging your nails even deeper into his skin. “You gonna come for me, doll? Be my good girl and squirt all over my fingers?”

Your chest is heaving, legs raised to wrap themselves around his hips, gasping out his name as he drives his fingers deeper into your body.

“Y-yes, Dabi—fuck!” You’re so close, that familiar coil winding up in the pit of your stomach, almost there, almost there—

“That’s it, come for me. Make a mess for me, doll. Come on—oh, that’s it—so fucking good for me, aren’t ya?”

You’re shuddering against his burned chest, carving your nails into his skin as the coil finally explodes. You can feel yourself clamping down hard on his fingers, legs jerking as he traces his thumb over your clit, his voice as he mumbles a slew of filthy words against your ear.

“Hey, keep your eyes open.” He taps your cheek, leaving a smear of your juices on your skin. But he’s all too eager to press his lips to it and clean you off. “Turn around, doll, get on your knees. Can you do that for me?”

Anything for you, but your tongue is too thick to get the words out. Instead you give him a nod, twisting your body around as he shuffles himself off of you. Before you know it you’re leaning against the arm of the couch, grasping at the torn fabric as he settles himself behind you. There’s a soft rustling sound as he slides his boxers down, but when you try to glance back at him his hand curls around the back of your head, keeping your head forward and hanging over the arm of the couch.

“W-wanna see you…”

“Later, pretty girl. You’ll get to see me later.”

There’s a familiar bite to his tone; not the one that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine, but the kind that makes your hands twitch and your throat burn. He’s still doubting the way he looks, even after everything you’ve done so far. Does he still not trust you enough to see all of him like you let him see all of you?

But then your mind goes blank as he leans into you, hands hot against your hips, the wet sound of slick filling your ears as he takes his cock in his hand. He thumps it against your clit, and the edge of the piercing on the tip has you trembling all over again.

“Deep breaths for me,” he mumbles, his breath hot against your nape, “deep breaths, doll…”

He pushes himself in, bit by bit, groaning when you whine his name beneath him. He’s stretching you out, so tight and warm you think you might burst, the collection of piercings adorning his cock making your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Every ridge of skin, every touch of metal and breath against your body sends you over the edge, sucking him in as he bottoms out inside you with a moan.

“Fuck, so tight…”

It’s all too much; the heat of his body against your own, the touch of his lips on your neck, and the throb of his cock deep inside you. Suddenly you’re dragging the back of your hand over your eyes, praying with everything you have that Dabi won’t see what he does to you.

It’s been so long, I didn’t think I’d have him like this again. Not after that night…

Not after what had been said. Not after he’d screamed that he wanted nothing more to do with you, that you were just a body to keep him busy in the dead of night. Not after you’d told him to get out of your apartment, to walk out of your life forever, that you would be better off without him. The words still rang in your head, echoing through those late nights in your bed, the sheets damp with sweat and the pillow stained with tears.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, I was only trying to hurt you. Just like you hurt me. But I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, because I—

“Still with me, doll?” You swallow hard and nod your head, keeping your eyes on the arm of the couch. His hands are surprisingly soft against your hips. “Gonna start moving, you ready?”

You close your eyes, savoring the warmth of his skin, both burned and smooth, against your own. “Of course I am. Just fuck me already.”

He’s steady at first, mindful of his size and your position on the couch. Rolling his hips into your own, massaging your hips with his scarred palms, the occasional curse slipping through his mouth. It’s been too long since you’ve found yourself in a situation like this; despite your best efforts, you haven’t been with anyone else since that last night. Every face, hand, pair of lips against your own reminds you of him.

But now you have him, after all this time, and you’ll be damned if you don’t have him at least try to make up for the month of hell he put you through.

You’re thrusting your hips against his own, relishing the groan and startled look in his eye when you gaze up at him from over your shoulder. “I said fuck me, didn’t I?” Come on, I know you can do better than that. “So don’t hold back.”

And suddenly he’s wrapping a fist around your hair, rutting his hips into yours like an animal in heat. The wet sound of his skin slapping against your own, his cock sliding in and out of you, the feral groan he lets out in the form of your name—it’s too much too soon, leaving you gasping for air over the arm of the couch.

“Little fucking slut, aren’t ya? Always so eager for my cock. Tell me,” he sneers, and you jolt when his breath clouds over the shell of your ear, “did you come all the way out here tonight hoping to get your pretty little brains fucked out?”

Not entirely—the possibility hadn’t even crossed your mind on the trek here. But that’s not what comes out of your mouth.

“M-maybe—fuck, yes!” You cry out as his palm comes down hard on your ass, your pitiful words only fueling his ego. “S-so rough…”

“Aww, doll, I thought you liked it when I’m rough with you?” Another thrust of his hips, his cock pounding against that sweet spot deep inside you. “Let me ask you, how many men did you fuck while I was gone?”

“N-none…”

“Hm? Couldn’t hear ya, doll. Speak up.”

He smacks your ass again, eliciting another scream from your throat. “None! No one else, only…only you, Dabi…”

The tears are spilling freely down your cheeks, leaving little pools on the arm of the couch. Dabi groans again as he yanks your hair back, his lips searing against the skin of your jaw.

“Say it again. Say my name.”

“Dabi, Dabi—”

“Not that one, doll.”

Your heart thrums against your ribcage, eyes wide and teary, but you can still feel a smile on your face.

“Touya!”

He’s pounding into you at a brutal pace, one hand still wrapped around your hair as his other hand slides down the length of your body, between your thighs to circle over your burning clit. You’re gasping out his name, nails biting into the arm of the sofa, bucking your hips back to meet his thrusts halfway.

A stray tear slides down your cheek; he releases his hold on your hair just to wipe it away and kiss the heated skin below.

“Touya, I-I’m so close—so fucking close—”

It’s right there within your reach, burning on the tip of your tongue, your eyes fluttering shut with every thrust he gives you.

“Don’t hold back,” he hisses as you push back against him with a whimper. He presses two fingers against your clit, rubbing them in hard, tight circles. “Wanna hear you scream, got it?”

You can only nod your head, your words slurring together as he brings you closer and closer to your peak.

“C’mon, cream all over my cock—”

“F-fuck, Touya!”

Suddenly you’re tumbling over the edge, pressing your face into the arm of the couch, clenching your thighs around his hand. A tremble courses through your body, vision flooding with white, whining out his name as he continues to circle your clit, even when you’re spent and slumped in his arms.

“That’s it, doll, such a good girl for me.” But there’s a strain in his voice, a familiar fire in his thrusts as he chases his own release. “So good, so fucking good—”

Something warm and rough closes over the back of your hand; your eyes open to see his fingers lacing through your own, pinning your hand to the arm of the couch. It’s not long before he shifts himself to grasp your other hand, caging your body against the couch, his voice raspy and his breaths short against the shell of your ear.

“Gonna come—where do you want it, doll?”

You squeeze his fingers with your own, eyes fixed on the burned skin of his arm. “I-inside… Want you inside me, Touya…”

His chest shudders against your back, face pressed against your neck as he stills his thrusts, spilling himself inside of you. He stays there for a moment, panting against your skin, still holding your hands in his scarred ones, the heat of his body giving you an entirely new sense of bliss you thought you’d lost for good.

But then he slides himself out, his cum dribbling onto the cushions below, and you can’t help but giggle when his cock brushes against your inner thigh.

“Still hard?” He scoffs and starts to pull away—but your hands are already curling around his wrists, tugging him back down to your level. “Lay down,” you manage to slur out, “wanna be on top now.”

He barks out a laugh but settles down on the couch anyway, tracing the skin of your hips with his nails.

“Sure you’re up for this, dollface?” You nod, straddling his hips for the second time tonight. “You look worn out, don’t want you falling asleep on me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fucked me in my sleep,” you murmur, and he only smirks at the memory. Needy asshole. “Besides, you had me the way you wanted. And now it’s my turn.”

“Oh? And in what way do you want me?” He squeezes his hands around your ass and pulls you in close. “My cock not good enough for you anymore?”

“No, it’s more than enough.” You press your hands to the planes of his chest, smiling as he sinks into the messy cushions below. “I just wanna see your eyes when I tell you how beautiful you are.”

That’s when you see it: the tiniest clench of his jaw, the glazed look in his eye that lets you know, he thinks it’s all bullshit. That he won’t believe you, no matter how many times you say it to his face.

“…I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I said I wanted all of you, didn’t I? I meant it, even your looks. Your hair, your eyes, these scars…” You lean down to kiss his neck, eliciting the softest groan from his chest. “They’re my favorite part about you.”

“Why?” The look in his eyes is so uncertain, so terrified—as if he’s still a child, begging for someone to accept him. “They’re just scars. They’re…ugly.”

“Not really. They show just how strong you are. How strong your flames are, how determined you are. No matter what’s standing in your way, you always find a way to persist. And that’s why I—”

Love you.

You clamp your mouth shut, fighting the urge to slap both hands over your face. Idiot, you’re such a fucking idiot! Now he’s staring at you with those big eyes and you’re fucking everything up and—

“That’s why I…I want every part of you.” Anti-climactic, but it eases some of the weight off your chest. “Every bit you have to offer. Scars, fears, sins—none that scares me. I want all of them, because I want you. All I care about is you, Touya.”

He’s growing increasingly uneasy, you can see it in the way his eyes dart back and forth between your own and the ceiling, the slight quiver of his hands against your waist. Words have never really been his strong suit in situations like this, so you can tell he’s having trouble coming up with a response. So before he can you lean down to kiss him again, your hands roaming all across his body.

Actions seem to speak louder than words, anyway.

A thin sheen of sweat gathers along the healthy skin of his chest, the silver staples glimmering at the corners. He’s gorgeous in this light, sprawled out beneath you on the couch, the faint hue of the fireplace flickering over his skin. Matching those beautiful eyes, so sad and lost, and the wisps of flame dancing along his fingertips.

You lower your hand down his abdomen, over his hips, and smile when he gasps when you take his cock in your hand. Hot and heavy in the palm of your hand, adorned with little silver piercings along the base and tip. You remember asking him about them when you first started your little relationship, how he smirked when you asked him if they hurt at all. At the time he’d shrugged his shoulders and pulled you into his chest, insisting that they didn’t hurt anymore, that they would feel much better inside you anyway. Even now you still can’t believe how desperate he can be just for a good fuck.

Those blue eyes are still wide, burning with that same hint of lust from earlier. As if he’s trusting you to make him feel good—to take care of him, just as he’s always done to you.

“Breathe, Touya.” It’s hard to keep the smile out of your voice as he squirms beneath you, tightens his grip around your waist. “I’ve got you.”

And I’m never letting you go ever again.

It takes a few strokes of your hand before he’s bucking himself into your palm, silently whining for you to get on with it. You spread your thighs and position yourself over his cock—but not before pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

I love you.

He groans out your name as you sink yourself down onto him. That familiar stretch of his cock makes your chest shudder, a moan slipping through your parted lips. Despite the mess of cum and sweat between your bodies, neither of you seems bothered all that much. What’s the point of getting upset over it when you’re just going to add to the mess later on?

“…Maybe you were right about this position, doll.” He lifts a hand and squeezes the underside of your breast, earning a pleased hum from your throat. “Gonna enjoy seeing your face when I fuck you like this.”

“As if,” you try to laugh, but it’s hard to keep your voice steady. “I’m the one who’s fucking you this time.”

“We’ll see about that.”

But before he can move you take his hands in your own, raising them up and pinning them beside his head on the arm of the couch. Smirking at the mischievous look in those hooded eyes.

“Not a chance, Touya. You’re gonna be good for me—whatever I have to offer, you’re gonna lay there and take it.”

“Oh am I, doll? Since when did you get all demanding and feisty, huh? I guess me being gone for a bit made you needier than usual, huh?”

Probably, but there’s no way in hell you’ll admit it to his face. So instead you grind your hips down onto his, and he gasps and moans out your name.

“C-can’t say I don’t like it.” His breaths are growing shorter with every thrust of your hips. “You used to be s-so shy and timid, and you still are. Sure didn’t put up a fight when I fucked your brains out earlier, now did you?”

If he’s still talking, I’m not doing a good enough job.

“N-no, you didn’t—!” He still tries to laugh even when you pick up the pace, sinking your nails into the marred skin of his wrists. “Loved every second of it, didn’t you? I know you did—always a little slut for my cock—my little slut—”

Suddenly your nails are digging into the patches on his throat, his blue eyes blown wide with lust as you lean in close, so close your nose brushes against his own.

“Shut up. Just shut up and let me fuck you.”

Let me love you.

That seems to convince him; curiosity and lust seem to win him over as he complies with your orders, keeping his hands above his head, snapping his mouth shut for good. But then he’s moaning again as you roll your hips down, and his sounds only encourage you to go faster.

You press your palms against his chest, nails cutting into the healthy flesh beneath the staples, and start bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. His hands are free for now, but he doesn’t try to take control and subdue you. Instead he’s grabbing onto your hips, ramming himself deeper inside you with every thrust.

He’s hitting that same spot deep inside you, the one that makes you see stars and scream his name out to the world. The muscles in your thighs are burning; three orgasms in and you’re still chasing after a fourth like a bitch in heat. But it’s hard to resist the urge when you have him below you like this, staring up at you with those beautiful blue eyes, whispering “good girl” and “fuck, that’s it” into the musty air around you.

“C’mon, harder. I know you can do better than that—fuck—”

Dabi, Touya—it doesn’t matter what he wants to be called, you still end up screaming both names out at the top of your lungs. So loud you want everyone to know just who can make you feel this way, who holds your heart and soul and body in his scarred hands. Because he’s worth everything to you, someone you trust with your life even if you shouldn’t. Someone you don’t have to hide yourself from, to put on a front or a fake smile for. Someone who makes your heart flutter and your palms sweaty and your chest ache, because you—

“…Love you.”

It’s out there—you can’t take it back now. Not when you’re so close; not when he’s staring up at you like that.

As though you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

But your words don’t seem to deter him in the slightest. Instead he’s slamming you down on his cock even harder than before, swallowing your squeals as he pulls you in for another searing kiss. He’s sitting up now, arms wrapped around your waist as you bounce yourself in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” the tears are already bubbling in your eyes, “but I love you—love you so fucking much—”

“Yeah?” His voice is hoarse, as though he hasn’t used it in years. “You mean it?”

“Yes, I do! Y-you’re the only one for m-me—”

Your hands close around his shoulders, his breath burning against your neck—you can already feel the coil in your stomach, ready to snap. So close, so close—

“Almost there, doll. Ride me—give me everything you’ve got—”

You roll your hips as hard as you can, and at the first touch of his fingers against your clit you’re clenching hard around his cock. Screaming his name out as you feel every ridge and piercing move against you, inside of you as you’re gushing all over his lap.

But he’s not far behind, chasing his own release as he picks up the pace. You gather his face in your hands, running your thumbs along the lines of staples that keep his jaw secure, tasting his breath on your tongue.

And you know you should stop talking before you make everything worse, but that doesn’t stop you from pressing your mouth against his own and whispering, “Love you, Touya.”

Suddenly he’s gasping into your mouth, palms unnaturally hot against your hips—and when you give him a nod he presses his fingers deeper into your skin. A blistering sense of heat spreads throughout your body; a scream bubbles up in your throat. Touya groans out your name as he gives one final thrust, spilling himself inside you as his fingers sear their prints into the skin of your hips.

The two of you are shuddering, kissing each other furiously, blinking the sweat from your eyes. His body is already starting to overheat, a thin layer of steam rising from the stapled skin of his chest. But that doesn’t seem to be his main concern; instead he’s lowering his hands to inspect the fresh burns on your hips.

“Does it hurt?”

“Only a little,” you tell him, but he’s still kissing along the marks anyway.

It’s not the first time he’s branded you in the heat of the moment. It took him a while to agree to it, along with an incessant amount of begging on your part, and he’s still always so attentive to them whenever he does it during sex. It always baffles you how he can be so concerned and caring with taking care of the light burns he leaves on your skin, but he completely neglects his own.

“Touya, it’s fine, I’ll just clean them up in a bit. I promise I’ll be—”

But then he glances up at you, and your chest swells when you see the trails of blood leaking from the staples underneath his eyes. You try to wipe them off but he catches your wrists and tugs you close, pressing kiss after kiss against your sweaty palms.

“To—”

“Say it again.” His voice is almost pitiful, the look in his bloody eyes worse than any burn mark on your skin. “Please.”

In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never heard the man beg. Not as Touya and definitely not as Dabi. But the hopeful look in his eyes makes you want to cry. To hold him in your arms and shield him from the rest of the world. To fight off his insecurities tooth and nail, to chase away all those horrible thoughts and memories that keep him up at night. To press a thousand kisses along his face and down his body, ending at his lips before giving him a thousand more.

You take his face in your hands and kiss his forehead. His white hair tickles your nose, still smelling of smoke and ash.

“You know I love you, Touya. When I said I wanted you, I meant it. I want everything that makes you, you; I want to see you grow and thrive and make the best out of this world we’re in. And no matter how many times you try to push me away—even if you think it’s for my own good—I won’t ever leave you alone. I promise to stay by your side, no matter what you’ve done or what you may do in the future. Because I love you, and I’ll say it as many times as I have to until you believe me.”

There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say that will make you change your mind. He is the one you’ve decided to trust with your heart. The one you’ve grown to care about more than anyone else in the world. And you’ll keep saying it, even if he never believes you. Even if he never sees you in that same light.

He doesn’t speak a word, doesn’t even make a sound. He simply holds your body against his own, pressing his stapled cheek to your breasts. You can feel his heartbeat below the ragged skin of his chest, the vibrations lulling you into a light sleep.

B-bmp, b-bmp, b-bmp.

Finally he breaks the silence with a grunt, lifting you off his lap and sliding himself out of you. Your thighs are burning with exhaustion, not unlike the heat engraved in your hips. But Dabi’s careful as he swings his legs over the side of the couch, gathering you in his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist.

Wordlessly he carries you to the nearby bathroom, where he sets you down on the counter and washes out your burns. He reaches for the little tube of ointment in the cabinet—the same brand you have back at your apartment—and squirts a small amount on his fingers. You do your best to stay still as he slathers it over the burns, trying to be as gentle as he possibly can. And once he’s done he cleans off his hands, grabs a roll of bandages from the counter, and presses them over the marks on your hips. Definitely not the first time you’ve worn bandages like these on your body—or the first time Dabi’s been the one to apply them.

It’s not like him to go this long without saying anything. Not a single snarky comment or flirty remark, just to get a reaction out of you. It’s almost terrifying, the way he refuses to make any sound—or even talk to you.

Did I say anything wrong? Was I too forward with my little speech earlier? Is he angry at me for admitting my feelings to him?

“…Touya?” No answer. You clear your throat and try again. “Touya, are you okay? …Are you—”

“How can I be, after what you said out there?”

Oh.

Did you read the entire situation wrong? Perhaps he’s ready to leave you for good this time, making sure you can’t follow him wherever he goes?

The mere thought hurts you more than it should. Idiot, you’re such a fucking idiot, thinking he’d feel the same about you.

“…I’m sorry—”

“No don’t, don’t fucking do that…” He lets out a sigh, swiping a hand through his hair as he all but tosses the roll of bandages on the counter. “It’s not…you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Then…why? Why are you still pushing me away when you know I love you?

And then it hits you: the problem lies within that phrase, those three simple words that crawled their way out of your mouth. Maybe he does feel the same, and he doesn’t know how to come out and say it. Or even if he should say it. Because as much as it pains you to think about, those three little words must’ve been pretty rare in his old life with his family.

Or maybe he doesn’t feel that way at all, and you’re still stuck in a perfect little fantasy, hoping it’ll all work out in the end.

You suck in a deep breath, until your chest aches from the stretch, and begin to speak.

“Touya, do you…feel the same way about me?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. You clear your throat and rephrase the question.

“Do you care about me? Say no if you don’t.” He snaps his mouth shut, and the tiniest bit of pride blooms in your chest. “So then, do you…like me the same way I like you?” And suddenly you’re a child on the playground again, wondering if your crush thinks of you in the same way you think about him.

“…I…I think I do, but…”

Blood trails are streaming down his cheeks. With every word he looks more unsure of himself, more confused, as the man he’s built himself up to be begins to crumble down before your eyes. It’s hard to breathe as you watch him break down. The blood, the scars, the way his hands curl around his face—and suddenly you’re jumping off the counter, legs shaking, heart leaping in your throat, and taking him into your arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to say it out loud. You don’t have to give me an answer right away.”

You stretch out your fingers, the tips brushing against the staples beneath his eyes. He doesn’t flinch away, even as you wipe away the trickles of blood, and you sigh in relief. A small victory, one that gives you hope that maybe this can all work itself out.

“If you don’t wanna say anything, that’s okay. I get it, believe me. But please don’t push me away anymore. I want to be close to you, okay? To stay by your side even when you don’t want me to be. So please, just…let me stay with you…”

It’s an eternity before he moves again. He slides his hand into your hair and tugs you in, mismatched lips finding their way to your forehead. You lean up to kiss his split jaw, giggling softly when he brushes his nose against your own. And for a moment, it seems like everything’s going to be okay.

You’ll be alright. You can wait for him, as long as he needs you to.

It takes some convincing (and a few heated kisses) for him to let you clean out his wounds for real and reapply his staples. The bastard’s jaw is barely hanging on at this point, a look he wears like a badge of honor. He doesn’t even wince as you snap a batch of fresh staples into his cheeks.

“Why the long face, doll?” You roll your eyes and drop another bloody staple into the tray on the counter. “You know damn well this isn’t the first time you’ve done this.”

“And it’ll be the last if you keep running your mouth like that.”

“Not if I can help it—”

“Touya.” There’s a warning in your voice but he only laughs it off.

“Touya,” he mocks in a high pitched voice, “let me come! Touya, please don’t rip your staples out! Touya, please fuck me, I need you inside me!”

“Touya!” Louder this time, but he only laughs harder.

“Yeah that’s it, doll. Sure weren’t complaining earlier, when you had my tongue inside your—”

You slap his chest as hard as you can without damaging the staples. It seems to shut him up long enough for you to finish patching him up, but he’s still wearing that fucking smirk that makes you weak in the knees.

At least he’s eased up for now. As much as you adore him, it’s not easy seeing him act all unsure of himself. As though he has to hide who he really is from you.

When the blood’s finally cleared off and his scars are treated, he takes a fresh cloth from the cabinet and soaks it under the sink. He runs it along your thighs, wiping away any traces of his cum. After he’s finished you rinse the cloth with warm water and press it along his sweaty chest. Careful the fabric doesn’t get caught on the staples lined across his skin.

Once the two of you are cleaned off, he scoops you up in his arms with your legs wrapped around his hips, and he leads you back into the room with the fireplace. You’ll have to wait until you get back to your place for a proper shower; unfortunately this old mansion doesn’t have much to offer when it comes to running water. But judging by the way Touya’s carrying you, with his arms tight around your waist, you’re starting to think he’s not ready to leave this mansion just yet.

He cleans off the messy cushions—which consists of him wiping them down with a wad of tissues before flipping them over—and plops himself down right in the center. He pulls on his pants and slips on his boots, before tossing you that old hoodie of his that still smells like smoke. You pull it over your head, mindful of the bandages on your hips, and try not to think of how dangerously low his pants are resting on his hips.

He reclines back against the arm, kicking his legs up and pulling you down on his chest once more. You’re straddling his hips again, wearing nothing but his old hoodie, your face pressed against his scarred chest.

“…Wish I had a cigarette right now.”

You stifle a laugh, reach into the pocket of the hoodie, and hold out a little white package to him. His eyes go wide for a moment, before he tugs it from your grasp and gives you one of those all-knowing smirks.

“Aww, how did you know? And these are my favorite, doll.”

You shrug and snuggle deeper into his chest. “Thought you’d want one or two so I brought ‘em with me.”

He slips the little stick between his lips and wiggles his eyebrows. “So that’s why you came here—I was right after all, huh?”

“As if, fuckin’ pervert. It’s not my fault you only wanna smoke after sex.”

He lets out a chuckle, lifting a blue-tipped finger to the end of the stick. Your eyes follow the tiny flame, the gorgeous hue of its sparks, the gentle wisps that coil into the air, before it vanishes with a quick wave of his hand.

A comfortable silence stretches over the two of you. Your gaze wanders up to the window above, revealing the pale half-moon behind the dark clouds. You wonder what time it is… But then you realize it doesn’t matter and press your face against the ragged skin of his neck. It’s just you and him for now, nothing else matters right now. The whole world could burn to ashes and you wouldn’t care—because you have the man you love wrapped up in your arms.

“Tell me,” he finally rasps, stubbing out his cigarette with his thumb. A blue wisp of flame engulfs the little stick, and seconds later he’s dusting the ash off his hand and onto the floor below. “Did you mean it? What you said earlier?”

Oh, I guess we’re back to this.

You lean up against his chest, chin propped up on your palm, to find him staring up at the dirty ceiling above. His fingers drum along the small of your back, the heel of his boot thumping against the arm at a gentle rhythm. He doesn’t meet your eyes, even when you start to speak.

“You know I meant it. Every single word. I promise. I’m not gonna leave you alone, no matter how much you push me away. And I’ll keep saying it until I’m blue in the face, you got it?”

When he still doesn’t look at you, you reach up and brush the backs of your fingers over the line of staples in his cheek. He lets out a sigh before catching your hand in his own and bringing it up to his face. And it’s hard to ignore the ache in your chest when he kisses your fingers and knuckles, one by one, before stopping right at the center of your palm.

Suddenly those blue eyes are burning right through you, and the whole world seems to vanish around you.

“Stay with me.”

You nod at once. “I will.”

“Say you love me.”

“I love you—so fucking much—I love you, I love you…”

I love you.

He’s kissing you now, mismatched lips tracing over your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere they can possibly reach. You twist your fingers into his hair and hold him close to your chest.

Nothing else matters. It’s just the two of you in this little mansion in the middle of the forest, the only ones who matter in this world. No heroes, no villains, no secrets, no lies. Just you and Touya, and for now that’s all you need.

Even if he never says those three simple words back to you.

“Touya—” But then he’s kissing you again, and you’re giggling uncontrollably against his mouth.

I’ve got you. I’ll stay with you for as long as you’ll have me. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll patch up your wounds, and I’ll—

“Hey, stop! That tickles!” But he keeps on nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Touya, come on, you’re—”

That’s when you feel it, hard and insistent, pressing against your inner thigh. He only smirks and licks his lips.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Mm, I’ve been called worse, doll.” He slides a hand down to your hips, caressing the bandages, the burn marks seared into your skin. “Promise I’ll be gentle.” He kisses you again, slowly this time, as he trails his hand down just a bit lower.

It’s not perfect, the relationship you have (if it can even be called that). There’s tears, blood, burns, nightmares, and you know it’ll only get worse from here on out. What Touya’s decided to do with his life, and how he plans to leave his mark on the world—it still leaves your stomach rolling and your throat burning with tears. But beneath all the words and scars and flames, you know he’s hurting inside. And you’ll be damned if you let him suffer through this ordeal all alone.

You’re in love with him—everything that makes him the man he is. No matter how much he’s hurting, how often he thinks of himself as a failure. You’re determined to give him everything you have, in hopes one day he’ll do the same for you. To wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest and press a thousand kisses against his skin. To let him know he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

That you’re here for him; that you’ll stay with him, no matter what may happen in the future.

So that’s why you only laugh as he lays you back down across his chest, his fingers weaving through your hair, careful not to get any of it caught on the staples of his palms. There’ll be another time for conversations like those. For now you can lose yourselves in each other, hand in hand, with the warm glow of the blue flames casting over you.

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x y/n #mha x reader #mha x you #mha x y/n #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi smut #touya todoroki smut #mha fics #smut #sweets and treats

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puppypeter · 5 months

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post-season 3 roy jamie (but pre-royjamie) going to a spa together because one of them had reservations for a couple treatment session for some reason (won a competition, about to expire gift voucher etc) so they drag the other and it's a million treatments while being side by side and roy is so fucking awkward the whole time ("get that wax away from me") and while he accepts the body scrub and the skin treatments and fucking loves the hot stones massage (it does wonders for his knee pain which is more of foot to lower back chronic pain now) and he can't help looking over to the massage table where jamie is just going through everything, getting every inch waxed, shamelessly getting on all four or on his side for the beauty therapist to reach what she has to reach, then requesting this fucking viking of a male massage therapist ("I've read about him in the reviews, you know how my legs get from training, need to proper feel it in my muscles") and proceeds to lay there all flushed, legs spread with only a tiny ass towel over his dick, making all these little noises as the viking-massage-therapist bends hims and twists him and kneads him like bread dough and roy is suddenly very fucking thirsty (and happy that he's laying on his front getting a back massage)...

#this all came from seeing a short reel of a very hot dude getting massaged by another dude and barely covered #like visible side/asscheeck which would be a lot if it was jamie lol #idek what this is ahah just thoughts #jamie x roy #roy x jamie #royjamie #jamieroy

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submissive-humiliation-slut · 3 months

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Used... Choked... Used... Choked... Broken!

CNC fantasy below: Please do not read if this offends you.

A stranger gets off me to hydrate... From the corner of my eye I can see his thick cock slick with my juices as he has just pulled out from fucking my sore pussy...

I don't know how long I have been here nor how long you plan to keep me... I just know I'm hurting all over...

I'm tied face down on this dirty bed in a dingy damp basement somewhere. My hands are tied on either side of rope that is tightly tied to my waist with my palms facing uppwards, forcing my elbows to push up uncomfortably. Another rope is tied tightly around my neck, choking me ever so slightly but continuously. This rope is pulled tightly forward and attached snug to a metal pipe in front of me so I can barely move my neck. Dirty pillows placed under my stomach and crotch prop me up so my body is curved and positioned perfectly for someone to access my pussy. My mouth is taped shut. My fair is damp with sweat and falls around my eyes and face. I am held in place... uncomfortably tied and available. Sweat runs down my forehead, down my back and down my armpits... I am aching from being like this for god knows how long.

And then there is my pussy. It is slick and wet and sore from obviously being used mercilessly. I hear your voice near me. You are chatting and laughing with other men. I don't know who and how many. I hear glasses and drinking. I think of how thirsty I am. I moan and groan but can't turn my head because of the rope around my neck. I can barely see the man that just got off from fucking me glug water and then say, "fuck she is hot... " before returning, mounting me from behind and effortlessly shoving his thick hard cock back into my sore pussy...

I plead and moan helplessly into that tape to no avail. He starts to seriously ram me from behind - hitting the very back of my cervix. The pain. The smell. The dampness. I can smell cum and sweat and dirt. He continues to fuck me. I cry out with each thrust pleading for mercy. Fortunately, he doesn't last long. He cums deep inside me. I can feel his cock throbbing post orgasm and I feel defeated and broken.

He gets off me and I feel relief. But only momentarily. He reached forward and unties the rope that has my neck tied to the metal bar. He grabs it and goes behind me so that it serves as a leash for me. Then he starts to yank it back lifting my upper body off the bed with my back arched and all my weight on my neck - seriously choking me. I thrash and scream into my gag - my nipples erect in fear and breasts shaking shamelessly. He attaches the rope behind me to something and comes in front of me.

I can barely breathe and hardly have any strength to even thrash about. I am choking out... I head spins and my eyes turn blurry. Tears stream down my cheeks. He whistles with satisfaction and walks away and my panic turns to deep fear. Then suddenly without warning he releases the rope and I fall face first into the filthy mattress sucking in air through my nose as my life truly depended on it...

I lie there crying and aching and shaking... his cum now oozing out of my pussy... hurting and broken but grateful to be alive.

"That'll teach the cunt..." I hear you say. Only one moment of relief and then panic and desperation and helplessness again as I hear you say to someone else - "Your turn next..."

Fuckkkkk!

#degrade and humiliate me #degrading k1nk #humiliation kink #rough kink #cnc fr33use #cnc rough #cnc sub #cnc free use #cnc k!nk #cnc stalking #rough cnc

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chuuyasheaven · 1 year

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Heya! I'm literally OBSESSED with your Dazai fanfic for valentines event its so good omg it got me rolling on the floor gasping for air, beating the shit outta my octogawa plushie 😭 ( he's fine dw)

since I'm thirsty af can I request prompt 9, 11 and 12 for this hot ass mf Akutagawa and its a jealous seggs and bondage too where he tied you up with rashoumon omg... Also happy late valentines day I'm sorry if I hadn't wish you valentines day on 14th I had go to my old school for reunion 😭😭

Anyways I wish you luck bbg 😼😼

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ/ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ: 9: “Beg for it, let me know that you deserve it.”, 11: “You're mine and I'm only yours, got it?” and 12: “Let me hear your sweet moans, baby.”

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:Jealous Sex with Akutagawa! I guess he just wants to make sure you know who you belong to, right? <3

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Jealous!Akutagawa, fem!Reader, Rashoumon being used as a rope to tie Reader up, rough sex, ada!Reader, bratty!Reader if you squint.. Lmk know if i fucked smth up!!! Accidentally added 10- (y'all are in the bedroom btw.)

ɴᴏᴛᴇs (ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴇ): I lowkey giggled when i read this..but i love this smut-trope alot! (if that's a thing) and it's okay, school sucks lol. Enjoy bbg! 🤭

“Tell me, why did you hang with that disgrace of a tiger again?” he growled against your neck.

For a little context, you and Akutagawa were a couple.

But you were both from enemy organizations, which didn't stop you from dating though.

I mean, yeah, Akutagawa doesn't like any of them except for you and Dazai, but it really bothered him that you were friends with the Weretiger, one of his biggest enemies..

This time, he was just really annoyed.

When he walked to the café where you were supposed to be at, he saw how you smiled at Atsushi the way you smile at him, not to mention that you let him touch you.

He just waited for you to finish, gave Atsushi a quick death stare and walk off with you.

Now back to where we left off-

“He was just hugging me, Aku, it's not a big deal!”, you spoke up for yourself.

“I don't like the way you smile at him, it actually makes me want to kill him even more.”, Akutagawa responded,

“Aku, let's just leave this for some other time. It's getting kinda annoying, y'know?” you tried to change the subject.

Akutagawa looked at you with slight annoyance.

How could you say that? He was just worried about you and Atsushi, what if you left him for Atsushi like Dazai did? Poor Aku. Come on you couldn't blame him for being jealous!

But, he won't let you be.

Akutagawa wants to, no, he needs to convince you to stay by him.

That's when something inside him snapped.

“Rashoumon!”, interrupting the silence in the room, as black ropes held you in place.

Being not able to process what had just happened, you feel you chin lifted by his hand.

“You know how such things annoy me, right? If you still don't get it, let me demonstrate.” Akutagawa just said.

“Akutagawa, what do you mean by-”, you let out a slight 'eek!' when you felt Rashoumon ripping off your panties.

(idk if Rashoumon can do that but yeah and yes, you had a nightgown on)

As you wanted to ask him again, you heard him removing belt, but also felt yourself get wetter by the second.

Lining up at your cunt, he let's his free finger get a taste of your slick.

“You're already wet? What a whore, but since, you taste so fuckin' good, baby, I'll let that slide. I know for a fact that the Weretiger will never get such a good taste in his miserable life, don't you agree?” Akutagawa smirked slighty, as he started inserting his cock into you.

You muffled your moans at this euphoric feeling, which Akutagawa didn't like. The Rashoumon tangled up your hands.

“Come on, Let me hear your sweet moans, darling, let everyone know who you belong to..” he panted as he started thrusting his length into you.

That's when you started to moan shamelessly louder than expected, not like he didn't like it.

How could you even keep quiet if he was fucking you so good? Akutagawa's cock hit all the right places, he filled you up just right!

“I'm c-close, Aku! Please don't stop..!” you desperately moaned to him, you let out a whine as he slowed his pace down.

“Oh? Well, i might aswell stop right now, because i don't know if you deserve it..”, as you tried to move, you desperately failed.

Akutagawa, who saw this reaction let out a chuckle.

“You're such a slut. But if you have to cum that bad, beg for it, let me know that you deserve it.” he just demanded that from you because he was close to cumming, so hearing you beg for it, was gonna speed the process up.

“P-please, Akutagawa, i need you so bad..please let me cum! I swear, I'm only yours, i love you so much-”, you got interrupted by his erotic thrusting.

But now he was eager to cum, he needed to release into you.

“That's..damn r-right, you're mine and I'm only yours, got it? I hope you did by now.”, Akutagawa felt your cunt hugging his cock deeply, letting him lose a groan.

“Fuck! 'M so fuckin' c-close, Aku!” you told him, after the last thrusts your coil in your stomach snapped.

Bliss following, as Akutagawa shot his cum right after.

He released you from Rashoumon and collapsed on the bed, panting heavily.

You did the same. Akutagawa found himself hugging you and nuzzling into your neck.

“Did i make clear that you're only mine?”, you just whispered loud enough for him to hear,

“Yes, Aku, you did. I'm gonna set some boundaries just for you, but for now i want you to rest, m'kay?”, You felt his head moving, assuming he was nodding.

After all this, he drifted into sleep.

Reading back at it i realized that I accidentally added the 10, but who cares? because it looks good lol. Hope you enjoyed it!!! :)

#akutagawa smut #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa ryuunosuke #akutagawa bsd #akutagawa imagine

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p-antomime · 2 years

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kiki kiki kiki kikiiiii ive been on a thirsty mood for stepdad!mikey, i do believe he'd be so overprotective!!!1!1! and then he finds out about his pretty cutie girl having a small crush on someone who's just a friend (?) from the college . . . . 👀👀

I like the way you think nonnie, never stopped to think about stepdad!mikey but I'm glad you did and came to tell me about it

ohh, mikey being overprotective of his stepdaughter is an unquestionable fact, but he was going to recognize it first as an attempt to not have to see your heart broken and not as jealousy. until he heard you talking on the phone with your crush and saw you flinch at their words and move your feet in the air as if the voice on the other end of the line was the most melodious music you had ever heard.

something sank into his chest that day and he wasn't sure if he should be excited that you were so happy about whatever the topic of conversation was or if he should have an interrogation session with you for knowing everything about the person.

he was feeling like something was being torn out of his arms even though you were holding him tightly in those seconds.

how could it be possible for him as your stepdad to let someone else have your affection and adoration like that? it was beyond him.

for weeks mikey would try to make you give up the date without telling you in no uncertain terms that he didn't trust the person, but as soon as the day arrived and you were already getting ready, he knew that his efforts were in vain and that he needed to do something before he lost his girl to someone else.

so he kindly suggested that he drive you to the restaurant, after all, it would be more than appropriate to arrive safe and sound at your appointment with your stepdad's personal escort.

what's not really appropriate is the way mikey is pulling you against his body as his lips slide down your neck in kisses and nibbles that send electric waves through your body. also not appropriate is the way the bulge between his legs rubs against the middle of yours and makes you wonder what it would feel like to have him inside you.

it all started with just his hand placing itself on your knee with a light, almost comforting squeeze. then it all seemed to fall away like playing cards as soon as the car was parked and manjiro leaned toward you.

it was the first time he kissed you and also the first time you felt that typical warm sensation in the pit of your belly of anticipation mixed with growing desire. it felt wrong that he was so good with lips pressed against yours, but it tasted so nice, so additive that by the time you realized it mikey was halfway through getting you naked, pulling up your dress and finally getting a good view of your barely covered body.

"fuck, you're wearing these just for a date?" he asks as he sees you wearing almost a complete set of lingerie, "can't believe i almost let my sweet girl show herself like this for someone who's not me."

it was the last thing he whispered before he pulled down your bra and began kissing and sucking on your tits with a calmness that didn't match the desperation of your longings that translated into your hips pushing against his, grinding shamelessly against his boner, and your hands pulling his face against your breasts.

mikey initially wanted to have his time with you, he really did, but the way your pussy was soaking your panties and making your slick start to wet the fabric of his pants was making all self-control slip through his fingers.

it was a matter of seconds before it was just pulled aside and he held you hovering over his cock as he buried himself deep and forced you to stretch to take him all the way to the base.

his head falls back in pure bliss and you desperately cling to his body trying not to moan too loudly; all while your walls cling to his shaft possessively and he twitches inside you.

"so—oh, fuck!" you gasp just as he thrusts and makes the words disappear from your mind.

"so good?"

your stepdad says for you, his hands taking hold of your waist and making you start to bounce up and down on his lap.

his eyes were fixed on the way his dick disappears and reappears between your thighs while yours were half-open and unable to focus on anything properly.

"wrong," you murmur and soon after moan feeling him slam against your sweetest spot.

then mikey takes your face with one hand and forces you to look at him before whispering in response, "you wouldn't be saying that if you were feeling the way you're suckin' me in so well, sweet girl. your stepdad is just taking better care of you, don't you feel good?"

he could feel you leaking even more around his cock, that was the time mikey realized he already had you in the palm of his hand.

however, an answer from you didn't come. at least not in the way he expected.

your hips just moved on their own against his and your lips caught his in a hurried kiss.

you were practically fucking yourself on his dick now and he couldn't have been prouder, especially knowing that at the end of the night you would still be coming home from your date with his cum leaking out of your tight hole and soaking the bottom of your panties.

— tokyo revengers m.list!

#tokyo revengers smut #mikey smut #manjiro smut #mikey x reader #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjiro smut #manjiro x y/n #manjiro x reader #mikey x y/n #x female reader #x fem!reader #tw.breeding kink #tw.dark content #tw.stepcest #mikey drabble #mikey drabbles #tokyo revengers drabble

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jiminsinterlude · 1 year

Text

Just One Kiss | JK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You and your best friend gets extremely drunk. While on your way to sobriety, a certain question comes up and erupts actions.

“Have you ever thought about kissing me?”

->Smut; Best friends

-> Warnings: drunk(slightly) sex, protected sex, oral sex(b.), multiple orgasms, explicit language

You sat on the couch with your head thrown back. You were utterly drunk and so was your best friend, Jungkook. You looked over at him as he had the bottle of soju in his hand, pouring you both another shot. He passed you the shot glass as you both drunk up at the same time. He went to pour another but the soju bottle was empty and that was the last bottle you two had.

“Ugh, Fuck. There is no more.” He placed the shot glass and the bottle down on the coffee table, taking your shot glass and doing the same. You laughed a little seeing him upset about there being no more.

“We’ve been drinking for the longest, lets just put a end to it now.” You put your legs up on the couch, now cuddling a random pillow.

Jungkook looked over at you with low eyes. “Im bored, Y/N.”

“I know you are. Wanna play a game? Like 20 questions?” He shook his head.

“We know everything about each other. What is there to ask?” You shrugged your shoulders and reached over to the remote, turning on the tv and going to a random channel.

You guys just sat there in silence, watching the television. Time passed and you began to get thirsty.

“Can you get me some ice tea?” He nodded his head and got up, walking to the kitchen.

He came back with two cups, drinking one and handing you the other. You sipped on the ice tea thinking about what you and Jungkook could do to pass time.

“What are thinking about?” You took another sip of your ice tea before settling it on the coffee table.

“Wanna play Jenga?” He laughed at your suggestion.

“I don’t even own Jenga.”

“Oh. Right.” You began to ponder again.

Your legs were getting a cramp from being balled up like they were. You stretched them out, your foot hitting the side of Jungkook’s leg. He looked at your foot, grabbing it which only led to him beginning to tickle it. Jungkook knew very well how ticklish you were and took advantage at any given chance.

“Jungkook! Stop, Hahaa.” Laughs left your mouth uncontrollably as he had both of your feet in a hold ticking them. You couldn’t even fight against him, he was stupidly strong. You began to hit him with the pillow you had in your arms. He laughed as well but then stopped with the tickling when your pillow hits got too hard.

You began to catch your breath, continuing to lay on your back with your feet in his lap. Jungkook knew how much you hated to be tickled but he still does it each time.

“Ugh, I hate you Jungkook.” He gave you his bunny smile.

“You know you love me.” You rolled your eyes at his cockiness. You kept your eyes on him though, he seemed bored again. That was until you watched his eyebrows rise and his gaze turning to you. Maybe he thought of something you guys could do.

“Have you ever thought about kissing me?” Your eyes slightly widened. You were slowly sobering up and this definitely helped.

“What?” You aren’t deaf, just in shock.

“Have you? like ever?” You stared at him, sitting up from your position and keeping your feet in his lap. You shamelessly admitted, nodding your head.

“Of course I have. Do you look in the mirror at yourself?” He laughed a little at your response.

“So I guess we don’t know everything about each other.” This guy. Who wouldn’t want to kiss him. “I’ve thought about kissing you too, many times.” Your head slanted. That was very surprising to you.

“Really?”

“Mhm, I’ve always wondered if you were a good kisser. I wonder if your lips are as soft as they look.” This has to be the alcohol speaking right? But drunk words are sober thoughts. In plus, you guys were hardly drunk anymore. About an hour had passed since your last shot.

“Why wonder if you can just do it.” He licked his lips, eager.

“So if I kiss you, you won’t back away?” You shook your head no. He just watched your next moves.

You began to take your legs off his lap, crossing them. He slightly mimicked your position, sitting on top of one of his legs, the other hung off the couch.

“Just one kiss Jungkook.”He ran his tatted hand through his long black hair. Nodding his head, he began to bring his right hand to your face. He held it gently, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip.

Jungkook leaned in and you did the same. His warm lips met yours, slowly. They were wet,soft and brought wetness to not only your upper lips but your lower lips too. You were getting too excited with just kissing him. You pulled away from the kiss, looking him in his eyes. Bad idea. This only made Jungkook want more. He smashed his lips into yours, kissing you hard but slow. Your lips moved against his as you felt his lip ring brush against your skin. His hand still held your face, the opposite was rested on your lower back, caressing it slowly. You leaned your head to the side, pushing your face more onto his. You tasted the alcohol that still lingered his lips, the taste was intriguing

He was such a good kisser, his tongue brushed against your lips repeatedly. Jungkook wanted access inside, to tounge kiss you. God, you wanted him to tongue kiss the inside of you. You pulled away once again. You looked at him with a pounding chest.

“Jungkook… Give me more.” A smirk was placed on his lips as he leaned back in to kiss you. But stopped right before he did.

“I thought you said just one kiss?”

“We both know we want more than just a kiss.” He snickered before pressing his soft lips back onto yours. The hand that was placed on your back was now making its way up your shirt to unclip your bra. You also began to move your hand towards his sweatpants.

As you placed your hand onto his lap, you immediately felt his bulging dick. It was hard as you squeezed it. All the sexual thoughts you pushed away for him was slowly coming back. Fuck, you wanted to suck him off. Yes, you wanted to suck off your best friend. You had your sexual fantasies too. You went into his sweatpants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing dick.

“Can I suck your dick?” He wasted no time to nod his head. You lowered your head and your mouth was around his tip in seconds.

“Fuck, wait Y/N.” It was too late, you were already taking him deeper into your mouth. Your head bobbed up and down his length. Each time you came up, you slid your tongue over the tip and sucked a bit harder.

Jungkook’s tattooed hand was wrapped in your hair, gripping it tightly. He threw his head back at the pleasure, thinking about how quick you were to suck his dick. His hips buckled up, thrusting himself into your mouth. Tears left your eyes as you choked on his huge dick. You enjoyed the taste of him, enjoying the sound of his moans in your ears. You heard him say he was soon to cum, causing you to suck just on the tip. Your hands wrapped around his length and began to pump him. He moaned your name as he came in your mouth.

You could hear how heavy he was breathing as you sucked the cum out of him. He pulled your head away by your hair, bring you into a kiss. He was quick to lay you on your back. Jungkook kept your lips attached to his as he took of your leggings. His lips made its way to your neck as he kissed it and sucked at it lightly. He reached for the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You were left in your unclipped bra and soaked underwear. Jungkook took off his clothing as well, him being completely naked.

He eyed your body as he slowly removed your panties. He rubbed at your clit, smiling. “I’ve thought about fucking you many times too.“

You only responded in moans, it was music to Jungkook’s ears. “Fuck Jungkook. Wont you fuck me already?”

“So impatient,” was all he said before he lowered his head to your core. He dived right into you, as if you were the sea. Jungkook’s tongue lapped around your clit, followed by the intense licking. He kept his tongue pressed against you with pressure while he flicked at your throbbing bud. You moaned out his name, something you haven’t imagined in a long time. Your bra fell down your arms, eventually you just threw it across the room. Jungkook had his arms wrapped around your thighs keeping you into a firm position. Your hand latched at his hair, pulling and rubbing. You were already close.

“So good Jungkook, gonna cum.” His tongue slid downwards as he tongue fucked you, his thumb rubbing at your clit to keep a steady stimulation. Your eyes rolled back as you came on his tongue. Jungkook sucked the cum out of your hole before sitting up and looking at your now completely naked body. His mouth was covered in your juices. He looked at your body in awe.

“You’re so beautiful baby. Can I fuck you?” He didn’t even have to ask.

“Yes Jungkook.” He immediately reached over to the coffee table and grabbed his wallet, searching for the golden ticket. He pulled out the condom, tossing his wallet back onto the table. You watched as he ripped the packet open with his teeth, it was a hot sight to see. Jungkook was already pre-cumming, he wanted to be inside of you so bad. He maintained eye contact as he rolled the condom onto his rock solid dick. There were a few pumps given to it before he grabbed your hips and dragged you closer to him. Your legs were wide open for him. You were welcoming him with open everything.

Jungkook aligned himself with your throbbing hole, tears rolled down your eyes from desperation. You craved him, badly. The desperation ended when he pressed his tip into your hole. Your eyes rolled back as you took him whole immediately. Jungkook didn’t even give you a chance to adjust as he was already pounding into you. Your legs wrapped around him, hands placed on his forearms as he caged you in with them. He held eye contact with you as he fucked into your cunt.

“So good, so tight.” You walls swallowed Jungkook up, it was the best feeling to every to him. On your end, you were reaching your second orgasm. Moans filled the room. You couldn’t help but scream out for him, your best friend can surely fuck good.

“Jungkook…” Your attempt of trying to speak ended with only his name. But he wanted to know what you were trying to say.

“Yes love? Use your words.” So encouraging.

“Don’t stop, ok? Fuck me just like that.” His body lowered as his chest hit yours. Your hot bodies met, skin to skin. He brung his mouth to your neck, kissing it. Then to your ear.

“I will fuck you all night if you ask, baby.” Your moans increased louder as Jungkook slammed into you with harder thrusts.

He held onto your body and you held onto his. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and your legs still wrapped around his torso. His thrust were hard and fast, amazing and pleasing. Your walls clenched around him, fuck you wished that it was his bare dick inside of you. To feel him whole, for him to feel you completely too.

“Kookie, gonna cum again. God, you’re so fucking good. Fucking me so well.” He grunted as he began to go harder.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy Y/N.” Your insides snapped as you were now cumming all over the condom. You whined as you felt him pull out of you. But he was back in before you knew it. You were also in a new position.

You sat on top of him as he held your waist. From missionary to cow girl. “Want me to be your rider Kookie?” He gave you that bunny grin.

“Mhm, ride me baby.” You nodded as you began to bounce on his dick. Your pace was fast, wasting no time to reach your third orgasm. Jungkook had his head thrown back on the couch, placing a pillow behind his head so he could still look you deep into your eyes.

Not only was he killing your pussy, he was killing your nerves too. The eye contact took a great toll on you, it was breaking you from the inside.

“Stop looking at me like that, you’re killing me.”

“Or what? What will you do if I don’t stop?” You didn’t respond, just continued to bounce up and down on him. That was until you stopped and just began to grind on him. “Oh? You’re gonna stop huh?” You nodded your head but he only chuckled. “Even if you’re on top, I still have control.”

Jungkook had his hand placed tightly on your waist as he began to thrust upwards into you. Maybe you should’ve thought your actions through a little more. Your head fell into his neck, officially giving up. Your body began to react to him once again. Clenching around him and followed with your cum spilling all over the condom. The thrusts he gave you began to get sloppy. You heard Jungkook let out a deep moan.

“Y/N, baby. Fuck Im cumming.” His thrust began to slow down as he filled the condom with his cum. He rubbed your head while he rode you out.

“Kiss me love.” His words made you bring your head up to face him. Your eyes met his before they met his lips. His lips attacked yours. The kiss was heated, the both of your hearts were beating fast. They were trying there best to calm down but this kiss wasn’t helping. You broke away, now looking at your best friends beautiful face.

“This was supposed to be just one kiss.” He laughed at the irony, leaning in to give you a small peck on your lips.

“We both know we wanted more than a kiss.” He smiled at you before licking his lips. “I hope you know we aren’t going back to best friends after this Y/N.”

“And I have no problem with that.” He remained inside of you as you leaned in to kiss him again. You can catch your breath later.

#jungkook #jk #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jiminsinterlude

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itsonlydana · 2 years

Note

ok , now mcyts drunk confessing to you, dsmp characters edition

DSMP CHARACTERS CONFESSING DRUNK

pairing: c!Foolish x gn!reader / c!Wilbur x gn!reader /c!Eret x gn!reader / c!Schlatt x gn!reader

words: 6k

warnings: alcohol & being drunk, hurt/comfort, fluff

an: this took a while for me to write, whenever i started it i got distracted. You guys don't know how often i was this close to confessing everything to some of my crushes lmao. Don't do that, just because it's maybe romantic here :,)

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

FOOLISH:

Foolish and you had met through Quackity in Las Nevadas, an initially awkward first encounter in which you were both late for different reasons and ran into each other entering the hotel

as you quickly found out you both had an affinity for building, a love for architectural masterpieces and a tendency to make every building project a friendly (completely serious, depending on the result and victory your whole personality for the following week) but definitely only friendly competition

besides the competitions, raving about building styles and materials you often entertained yourselves by swimming in the sea, because you both wanted to avoid contact with hotel visitors during a trip to the pool and thus often found yourselves on the beach after a long day/night at work

Foolish's way of showing his affection were not only expensive gifts in the form of a new, faster pickaxe or a chest filled with marble blocks and other materials, all a pain in the butt to get, but also touches

when you first met he was reluctant to do this, unsure of how to place you as a new person in the social construct of Las Nevadas, but as you spent more time together these touches became more frequent

him putting his arm around your shoulders as you sat on the beach watching the sunrise/sunset after swimming, resting his head on yours when you were bent over blueprints, holding your hand as you climbed the scaffolding. Often you feel his hand light as a feather in your back when he's guiding you somewhere or you're walking through a door together (he always lets you lead the way) and it becomes especially frequent when he's completely overtired and overworked

most of the time he drops down on top of you, of course not wanting to bury you completely under his muscles, but then as soon as he is lying on top of you, one arm wrapped around you and his nose buried in the crook of your neck, he falls right asleep.

Sometimes he reaches for your hands for no real reason and he never explains himself either. He intertwines your hands and gets on with whatever he's working on at the time

The ice clinked against the rim of your glass as you twirled the crystal straw around in the cocktail. It wasn't on the menu yet, "a secret just for you," as Foolish had explained to you with a wink after you'd dropped tiredly onto one of the now-empty barstools in Las Nevada's club with a desire for something strong. Foolish, whose wink had glistened just like the deep red drink in front of you, stood behind the bar, a glass of his own in his hand, leaning wearily against the countertop. He had his eyes closed, exhaustion after a long night of filling the thirsty mouths of countless tourists and probably turning down hundreds of chat up lines on his face.

He looked good enough to eat, though, you thought to yourself, and let your eyes slide over his relaxed figure, shamelessly and bold now that he rested his. The tight black pants flattered his well-toned legs, especially thighs very much and also the vest, which he had taken off after the last customer and thrown over the bar, had stretched over his chest. The self-confident Foolish, easily showing off his good looks and fishing for tips, was through the door, in front of you was a picture that only you got to see.

His white shirt which he wore under his vest had slipped at the hem in some places out of its tidily smooth form tucked into his trousers and hung over the shiny gold belt loop, he had rolled up his sleeves carelessly, well as far as the fabric would allow with his strong upper arms, and two of the many small buttons were unbuttoned so that you could see the calming rise and fall of his chest. His long hair, otherwise tied in a braid, was now messily twisted behind his head, presenting his tense jaw and sharp cheekbones in the dim light of the bar.

You tilted your head, propped on your left hand, and took another sip of the cocktail. You knew the warm feeling in your stomach wasn't just from the alcohol, you felt it too often for that when you were sober.

The jukebox in the corner crackled softly as the record was changed and a new one was automatically put on, this time a much slower one. The first notes echoed through the empty bar, filling the comfortable silence between you and Foolish with a tune familiar to both of you, at which Foolish opened his eyes.

Your gaze was still on him when his met his, and for a moment you just looked at each other before Foolish's voice quietly drowned out the melody and the loud thumping in your chest:

"Would you like to dance?"

Normally you would have teased him for such a question or made a joke about your lack of dancing skills, but something was different today. You couldn't put your finger on what it was. Maybe it was the warmth in the rosy red sunrise that bathed Las Nevadas pink and fell through the glass doors into the bar. Maybe it was that something in Foolish's gaze as he walked around the bar and you accepted his outstretched hand with a smile. Or maybe it was the weariness of a long night, doused with many drinks, the taste of which made your lips taste sweet and your stomach do cartwheels.

Foolish led you to the center of the room, into the warm cone of one of the last remaining switched-on spotlights that bathed you both in its golden light. Any eye ogling was forgotten as soon as Foolish put his hands at your sides. Never looking away from his loving gaze you raised your hands and placed them in his neck, at the touch of your hands cooled by the glass and ice you felt the goosebumps on his skin under your fingertips, but your tongue was numb and another teasing comment remained unspoken.

It wasn't really dancing, just a slow swaying back and forth so lost in each other's gaze that you didn't even hear the record stop and none follow.

As your fingers unconsciously began to trace indefinable patterns, circles and gentle movements on the back of Foolish's neck he exhaled a quivering breath that shook his chest. You felt from his tight grip, not tight enough to hurt you, how hard he was straining to stand up straight, his head probably heavy with fatigue, alcohol, and the many thoughts that had just made themselves known at the bar in a furrowed brow and contracted eyebrows.

You repeated the movement in his neck, wandering your fingers higher to the base of his hair where it was slightly twisted for his braid. Without giving it much further thought, you released the clasp that had pinned the black hair far too tightly. As you began to carefully comb through the thick and velvety hair, his arms pulled you closer to him until no sheet of paper would have fit between you.

Foolish's head tipped forward slightly as he let himself fall completely against you. With a tired sigh and a yawn, he leaned his head against yours before sinking forward even further and resting his forehead on your shoulder. His breath hit the free skin on your neck hotly. You felt the words even before they reached your ears, the movement of his lips against your neck almost more distinct than the actual words.

"I love you."

A tremor ran through your body as his arms slipped from your sides and wrapped completely around you, pressing your clearly smaller body against his broad chest as he clarified the meaning of that great confession with every touch.

And you loved him too with all your heart and every thought, but you would tell him that tomorrow. Now you were showing him by holding him.

ERET:

even before Eret was officially crowned king of the SMP by Dream, you had made it your mission to always be at his side

not only because of his good looks, but also because you had often enough talked about a shared vision of freedom, your hearts far away in the distance while lying in front of black and yellow walls and imagining what it would be like to be somewhere else

one night he had taken your hand, pulled you with him on the caravan and pointed to a spot in the darkness, between tall fir trees swaying in the night wind and promised you to run there as soon as the walls were gone

that night you probably felt it for the first time, the leap in your heart and the tingling in your stomach, but these feelings had no place in the revolution and you repressed them - later

life went on, time took what it wanted and fate played with events as if they were a part of a play and not reality, where every action had serious consequences. Eret won something, Eret lost something and you stayed by his side no matter what happened and the tug in your heart became sometimes stronger, sometimes less - later

he declared you his most loyal knight on a lukewarm summer night, a grin on your faces as he struck Ted's wrath on your shoulders and gave you a sword in netherite, which you never took off since then

you were inseparable, finding comfort in each other's presence even when his touches set your skin on fire and the reality of your platonic relationship dipped your head in icy water

sometimes the lines between friendship and work blurred, ending up in unattractive expressions shouted in the heat of the argument, which you regretted afterwards in the lonely silence

to always remind you of your position, not as desired as a lover, but as the most faithful friend and protector, you always carry a photograph, clamped in the breastplate of your armor, on which you kneel before Eret, one hand placed on your heart, the other on his black shoe tips, and on which he, in his voluminous red coat and golden crown, places Ted wrath on your right shoulder

To say you were running through the castle would be an understatement, you were sprinting, your feet barely seemed to touch the ground and only one question was burning in your mind:

"What if I'm not fast enough?"

When one of the maids had stormily knocked, no hammered, on your bedroom door in the early morning, you had immediately been on your feet, the book in which you had lost yourself had been left open on your bed, neatly made for the sleep you didnt get in the night.

That's all she had to say, that's all you needed to hear. You flew like a whirlwind around the last corner where several servants stood with nervous looks in front of the high, closed doors to the throne room and you snapped at them with a slightly sharper, "Don't you have work to do?" that quietly dispersed the crowd chattering. Now alone in front of the door, you raised a hand to the doorknob and slowly pushed it down.

"The king," she had stammered when you had invited her in.

"What about Eret?" you had asked, your heart loud and hammering in your chest

"He is drunk and has thrown everyone out of the throne room. We fear a little for him, he had seemed upset after the ball"

"I have told you to leave," Eret's deep, slightly slurred voice rang out as soon as you opened the door. He didn't sound as angry and threatening as he might have hoped, though; the words trembled, pronounced much more through grief than anger.

You pushed through a narrow crack in the door and shut it quickly behind you, not wanting any of the servants to catch even the slightest glimpse of the almost pathetic sight of their king, for that would make for rumors spreading like wildfire beyond your control to suppress.

Immediately, your concern reached its peak, and you rushed across the room to drop onto the steps in front of him. His red dress flowed like water down his slender form, the same color as that in his cheeks stained by tears and most likely alcohol. On the floor lay an empty bottle of wine, also red.

But it was truly pathetic.

The walls were still adorned with the decorations of the previous night's ball, scarlet curtains and banners, red rose vines scrambling up the walls, milky cloths through which you had danced only a few hours ago hung ghostly in the room, which looked like an abandoned painting without the mask-clad people and the violin music, and in the middle of it all Eret. He was stretched out on the steps in front of his throne, his crown and his blood-red mask lying on the seat, to which he had turned his back. He had his eyes squeezed shut, and though he rested his head on one arm and hid his face slightly in the crook, you saw the telltale wet glisten on his cheeks.

"What's wrong, Eret?" you tried to bring him out of the thoughts he had probably plunged into, as he so often did. He disappeared into this world where he was getting caught up in things and worrying about events that were completely different. It was a place you couldn't follow him to, no matter your promise to be with him always and everywhere. To you, it felt like a breaking of that very promise, a betrayal and simultaneous heartbreak that you couldn't be where he probably needed you most, that you could never be there.

Eret's response to your question was absent except for an aborted sob. You slid closer on the step, placing an arm gently on his shoulder. "Eret? Come on, it's me, you can talk to me, can't you?"

"That's the problem" Ouch... "You're part of my problem" Double ouch "I don't think this problem would exist without you" You were sure your heart couldn't break into smaller splinters and yet Eret proved you wrong in this hope. He opened his eyes, stared at you through his pearly white pupils and stood up with a jerk. The dress rustled with the frantic movement, falling down on him no longer smooth and noble, but crumpled and moistened with alcohol and tears as he staggered trying to find his footing. You had jumped up with him, puzzled and hurt at the sudden cold shoulder, when just hours ago you had been dancing together.

"Eret-," you took a step toward him, he stumbled back two. "Eret cut the bullshit and tell me what's going on now!" you commanded in a shaky voice, you didn't know how to deal with all the emotions that were bubbling up inside you and threatening to sweep you off your feet just thinking about how he had flinched away from you and the warmth in his gaze had been replaced by a cold, impenetrable wall, but something was very wrong with Eret. It had been your promise, your oath to be faithful, where you had given yourself to him completely, with all your heart, and you couldn't ignore that because of your own weakness for him. He needed you, even if his words went through your feelings like sharp knives.

Eret fell backward against his throne and raised a hand waveringly, pointing at the doors with a stone-hard facade. "Go, leave me alone, that's what you're going to do anyway".

"I beg your pardon, what?" You thought you were the one who had been drinking, because what he said definitely made no sense. Confused, you looked at him. "Where did you come up with such nonsense? Why and where would I go, please?"

He laughed out, but not in the deep and full laugh full of joy, he was exasperated. "I know you danced with Sapnap, i saw you two dancing more than you danced with me! You danced with Sapnap and couldn't stop listening to all the great things he said about Kinoko. At least admit you'd rather live there and don't lie to me." Eret took a shaky breath.

You exhaled shakily. Tears threatened to burst from your eyes as you saw the fear in Eret. "I won't leave you," you whispered, because if you spoke louder, you wouldn't be able to hold back the tears and you would both cry, and then you wouldn't be able to help him. Again you took a step toward him, up the steps, until all you had to do was reach out your hand to bridge the remaining distance between you.

Eret looked up, his cheeks wet with fresh tears, and he sobbed out. "I love you, please don't leave me. I don't want to be alone"

The pile of broken pieces reassembled into your heart at the confession you had dreamed of for so long, only to be destroyed again when Eret helplessly reached for your hand, as if you would want to flee from him now that he had laid his feelings openly down to you. But you wouldn't, there was no reality in which you would ever leave Eret, could leave him.

"I love you too," you answered him honestly "I love you and I'm not going anywhere, do you understand that? Nowhere where you are not too. You'll never get rid of me Eret, never again".

It wouldn't be easy to convince him of this confession later, you would have to sit down quietly and talk about all the changes ahead of you, but when Eret pulled you into a desperate kiss that tasted like fruity wine and salty tears, everything was okay, at least for the moment.

WILBUR:

Wilbur was a man of many things, he mastered the power to give uncertain and lost people the feeling of togetherness and family, he could draw the best out of the most hopeless situations and awaken in everyone the desire to want to fight for something

Wilbur was also a man for whom and his words you fell without wanting to ever to be caught, completely and with all your heart

he had picked you up, like everyone else in L'Manburg he had taken you in and given you a purpose

you had supported Wilbur in the election, were hard at work writing notes at every debate, and spent long nights with Will thinking about next steps

after Schlatt banished Wilbur and Tommy from Manburg, you followed them to Pogtopia, packed all your things in a bag and stepped out of your house without once looking back

Wilbur was your constant, your rock without whom you would sink hopelessly in the merciless world, and you became his muse, the cause for which he wanted to fight. Not that you told the other, you showed it in the things you did for each other

there were days when he showered you with affection, told you at every opportunity how proud he was of you and how glad he was to have met you. On those days he reached for your hands, hugged you or blew a kiss on your cheek, after which you always touched the place where just a moment ago his lips had been feather-light, in disbelief.

you never defined what exactly you were, lovers, friends, soul mates, two hearts found in the darkness, giving each other comfort and light for an uncertain period of time, a temporary relationship.

there were nights when Will needed your company, holding you close, and when you were his anchor, his salvation from drowning in fears of the future and the great something that was approaching and lurking in every shadow of the cave that had become your home.

there were moments when you were the only one who could pull Will away from the abyss, moments when he wanted to give up everything or, on the complete contrary, was about to rush out and take the problem out of the world

your "relationship" was a flame, a flaming heat that engulfed everything and to which you surrendered as an escape from reality and a dream of a future for which you both fought

Every evening there is this one moment between sunset and night. A brief moment when the sun has already disappeared behind the horizon, the last pink and purple clouds drift across the sky, and the all-consuming darkness approaches.

A moment when there is no time, just Wilbur and you.

It was quiet in Pogtopia, Techno and Tommy had retired to their beds, with the flicker of a lantern still lighting the cave walls from the corner of Techno's small area, casting your and Will's shadows against the gray stones.

The shadows fascinated Will, and for several minutes he had been raising your interlocked hands and twisting them in all directions, spreading his fingers and laughing in excitement when he recognized an animal in the shadows. He was drunk, the empty bottle of wiskey lying beside him on the crossbar, and his breath with each laugh smelled of firewood, pines, and cigarettes. He was drunk, again, and had been pacing back and forth madly in an office knocked into one of the walls, tussling his hair over mysterious plans. Plans he didn't even share with you. He was drunk, and yet you had followed him up your beam, a sturdy piece of wood that reached across the ravine. It was placed directly under the only gap to the outside, you couldn't see much as bushes and foliage obstructed your view of the sky, but the last golden rays of the setting sun still made their way through the dark greenery and gently brushed your face.

You turned your head to look at Will. His eyes were still focused on the shadows, pupils large and lips slightly parted he looked at the wall until he felt your gaze and turned as well. His brown stubborn hair hung in his face and as you reached out a hand to brush it away, you felt the dust and grit in what used to be hazel brown hair. They had turned gray, lacking the shine and shimmer, just as the spark in Will's eyes was missing.

No, it wasn't missing, it was different.

Once it had been revolution, a stirring power had been in his eyes, sweeping you off your feet like a tidal wave and at the same time holding you carefully when you lost your footing. Today you saw little of that, of the slightly youthful recklessness, the fun, the will to make something happen even when it seems almost impossible. Now there was rage in his gaze, rage that would strike mercilessly over you and everyone in its path, drowning you beneath its waves if you couldn't swim.

"You look sad," Will said after a while.

You shrugged your shoulders. "Do I?"

He nodded, his dark eyes roaming over your face and lingering on your pressed-together lips. "You often look sad," his gaze continued to linger on your lips and he ran his tongue over his own "Is there anything I can do to make you happier?" he asked. He was already turning his upper body closer to you, the beam creaking under the slight movement.

Again you shrugged your shoulders. You ran your fingers over the back of his hand, over his bandaged knuckles and rough skin. "You could tell me what you and Tubbo are plotting for the festival".

The words echoed off the walls of Pogtopia, smothering any sound, and though they were inescapable between you, Will didn't answer, but put his lips to yours. You kissed him back, with the desperation of someone drowning, clinging to anything remaining familiar, because in all the chaos of Pogtopia, the change in the man who leaned over you and put his hand behind your head, the feel of Will's lips was still the same. He kissed you so he wouldn't have to answer, and yet every movement of his lips spoke for what was unsaid.

"I love you," Will murmured into the kisses, the words as raw as his lips and tasting more bitter than the alcohol on his tongue.

"I love you," he repeated those three words and you sensed he meant them, sensed the emotion in his drunken kisses. It's the truth.

"I love you," he said louder as he pressed his forehead against yours and your interlocked hands lay between your bodies.

For a moment, time stands still. The last rays of the sun move across the gap in the cave, illuminating your sanctuary in pink and gold, and you see a spark in Will's gaze, befuddled by whiskey and a dream of a future close enough to touch.

"I love you," Will whispers, and you see tears glisten in his eyes. It sounds like a promise.

The moment passes, darkness takes over the sky and the flicker of Techno's lamp goes out, taking the shadows with it and the last bit of light. Night falls, crushing and harsh and lonely.

The moment becomes the past, and though the sun will rise again tomorrow and set again tomorrow, you know it will never be the same.

"I love you," Will speaks into the silence. An apology for what will come with the sunrise.

You swallow hard, trying to remember the feel of his lips on yours, chasing their trail, and it grows heavier, receding further and further into the distance, like a dream that had slipped from your fingers. "I love you too"

SCHLATT:

the first time you met Schlatt, he had watched one of Will's speeches from a distance, a power in a black suit and a stern expression on his face that had twisted into a grin at your dry "What a load of bullshit"

you didn't make it easy for him, you stayed out of his way when he clearly tried to approach you during walks through Manburg and Schlatt loved a challenge

he invested a lot of time getting to know you, inviting you on dates that sometimes you didn't show up for because you didn't feel like it and other times you knocked on his office door at night, deprived of sleep and bored. You knew he was staying longer in the White House than anyone else, so you enjoyed the time alone, playing a game of chess or poker

you finally let him into your heart, accompanied him to political events, dragged him to museums or on long walks through nature, on which you - far away from the eyes of the world and hungry paparazzi - let yourselves fall into the high grass and just watch the rustling of the leaves above you, your hands intertwined

it was on one of these walks that Schlatt kissed you for the first time. You were lying side by side in the grass, Schlatt propped up on his arm and stroking your cheek with one hand before he leaned down and breathed a soft kiss on your lips. You had put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down to you, deepening the kiss

After the kiss everything was different, changed for the better. Schlatt took your hand in public whenever he felt like it, ran away with you from journalists and you spent many nights in his office cuddled up on the couch

he gave you many expensive gifts, jewelry, clothes, armor, swords, everything you looked at or thought about was at your home a few days later, wrapped in white paper with a red bow around it

despite this intimate relationship, you did not know exactly what your status was, or what Schlatt hoped to gain from it. He was an important man who gave daily speeches to the press or the citizens, spoke of Manburg's plans for the future and made promises, but he had never once said a single word about his feelings, about your plans for the future

it was what you had been afraid of when you fell in love with him and let him get close, you hoped it would not be your downfall

Laughing, you slapped Schlatt against his chest with your free hand as he once again took your words and twisted them. "Of course not," you replied, and Schlatt's feigned horror turned into a self-satisfied grin, "I doubted your execution skills," you added cheekily, which resulted in a pecking index finger to your side, which made you squeak away and press closer to Schlatt. The man pressed a kiss into your hair before his previously attacking hand intertwined with yours again. "No, it's really quite fabulous," you handed him an olive branch of peace to avoid being pulled into yet another tickle attack and let your gaze wander over the colorful Manburg Festival.

"I must say, you've outdone yourself"

"Oh, so you doubted me and my fantastic planning skills?"

The meadow in front of the big podium had been transformed into every fair lover's dream overnight. Colorful booths had sprung up like flowers, offering everything from sweets to savory treats, souvenirs and games, decorated with colorful flags fluttering in the light breeze and self-painted signs. You recognized many of the games, duck fishing, can throwing, dunk the man and even some unfamiliar ones were there that almost piqued your interest even more.

Schlatt watched your wide eyes shining with anticipation for a while, giving you time to take it all in while his gaze was on you, warm and full of emotions that would answer some questions if you would just turn your head slightly and look at him.

But that's exactly what you didn't do, you consistently looked at everything but him for the simple reason that you were afraid to tell him the truth about your feelings to his face. Instead, you pulled him in the direction of a booth, Schlatt smiling behind you.

As it turned out, Schlatt wasn't the best at sack races, not even close. While he tried to somehow hold on to the edge of the sack he was up to his hips in, one kid after another jumped past him across the fenced-in meadow. Again and again he looked desperately at you, but you continued to motivate him with loud clapping, which many of the other bystanders joined in when they realized that it was the president who was stumbling across the meadow. Your heart leapt more than Schlatt, the sight of him in the midst of this happy scene spurred fantasies in your head to a future filled with such events and family-friendly games.

The rest of the day was similar... warm, just with a few more drinks and shots that Schlatt wanted to drink everything nicer with, because "if I hear one more kid screaming I'm going to blow this all off," but despite his slightly grumpy demeanor when there were a bunch of toddlers screaming on the mini Ferris wheel behind you, you saw his smile at other moments. It was once again his "I think it's stupid that I enjoy this" reaction to experiences in which he would rather slip into his Mr. Politician role because it was easier, instead of opening up to something new. At the very beginning of what was between you, whatever it was, you had often noticed it, the mask behind which Schlatt hid his insecurity, but slowly it disappeared and you kept getting to know new sides of him. For example, the lack of talent for sack race

You moved from one stand to the next, hand in hand, arm in arm. Time flew by and as you headed for one of the last remaining tents, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon and only a few pink clouds drifted across the darkened night sky. Your cheeks were warm from all the laughing and shots you'd had with Schlatt throughout the day, and you felt like you were floating up there with the clouds. Your lips were sticky from the cotton candy the two of you had just shared behind one of the tents, you snuggled into his side while he complained about how sweet the cotton candy tasted and could hardly get enough of your sweet lips afterwards.

At your laughter, he turned, his cheeks pink and golden and his gaze admonishing and playful and full of warmth. He reached for the next ball, which just barely brushed the top can of the largest pyramid, and it fell backwards onto the floor of the tent with a lonely "klank." At Schlatt's exasperated expression, you suppressed another laugh, but ended up snorting, deceived as a cough, which earned you another "Hey!" from Schlatt.

You leaned your hip against the booth's wooden counter, your gaze much more focused on Schlatt than on the pyramids of cans and bottles set up as targets in the tent. As much as you wanted to focus on how he was living up to his promise of knocking over all the cans in one throw -well, doing his best- your heart was running in completely different directions.

The many strings of lights dangling and spun across the square bathed Schlatt in a warm, golden light, and he never looked better. His curls were tousled, a crown of daisies lay between his horns and in the brown hair, and Schlatt had never once made an effort to remove them, not even when you had encountered Quackity. He leaned slightly over the counter, one ball in his hand and the other he used to imagine a wobbly throwing line, which in planning might have worked somehow, in implementation, however, the ball landed neither in the cans, nor in the bottles but fell from his hand backwards into the grass.

"Feel free to buy more throws if you want to win one of the bigger stuffed animals," the young man behind the counter interjected, a money-making charming grin on his lips.

Schlatt grumbled as he took the last of his three balls from the basket and examined it.

You took a step closer to him, gently placing a hand on his upper arm. "You don't have anything to prove, you know that, right?" you spoke softly that the vendor couldn't hear any of it over the din of the still-full festival. "The evening was great enough, I don't expect a cuddly toy, really".

"Bullshit," Schlatt clicked his tongue and stood up straight. You could see the alcohol on him, but also the pure determination now more than ever to win you something. He turned slightly so he could better aim his throwing arm at the cans, then turned to you with a big grin. "I love you, and I'm going to get you that stuffed animal, cost it all the world! Hell, I'll buy out the booth otherwise!"

The muffled tinkling and clattering of falling cans following these world stopping words only reached you dully, in your ears echoed "I love you! he loves me. i love you! he loves me. i love you! he loves me." In one beat with the beating of your heart. You didn't know how you could take the next breath when Schlatt had just completely turned the world upside down. Nothing you could say or do seemed even remotely important enough to equal what Schlatt had just thrown at you.

It wasn't until Schlatt spoke your name several times, each time with a little more concern in his voice, that your eyes found his. Everything was still stopped around you, you heard nothing but your own blood in your ears.

"You love me?" you asked quietly in disbelief, unsure if it had really happened or was a game of your drunken brain.

Schlatt paused in his movement, looking at you with wide eyes and his arms wrapped around a big teddy bear.

"Haven't I told you yet? Don't tell me I've never told you I love you".

Silently you shook your head, but slowly the words got through to you and a smile played around your lips. "I love you," you grinned now, wide and with butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach, "I love you too."

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