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mirkoluvs · 11 months

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★ GETTING INTO AN ARGUMENT WITH MHA CHARACTERS (PT. 2)

characters: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki

genre: comfort !!

notes: find part 1 here !! i’ve been busy with stuff, sorry for not getting this out sooner!

izuku midoriya

- a day had passed since he flipped out at you

- he knew he messed up but you were letting him know he messed up.

- every time he texted you he’d always end up being left on read or delivered.

- even at school when he tried to come up to you, you’d always end up running towards somebody else and joining into a conversation with them.

- he wasn’t going to give up until he finally talked to you and figured things out though

- which is how he ended up in front of your dorm room door at 9 pm at night.

izuku let out a nervous exhale before raising his fist to knock on your door. fighting his nerves, he shook his head and hit his fist against it gently. “coming!”, you chirped, pushing yourself out from your desk to answer the door. a faint smile arose on his face at the sound of your positive voice, but quickly got washed away by nerves once he saw the door begin to open. when you opened the door and saw izuku there, you rolled your eyes, beginning to shut the door, but you were quickly stopped by izuku shoving his foot into the space between the door, slipping his hand in as well so he had a hold on the door. “y/n, please talk to me”, he muttered, trying to look you in the eyes. “hasn’t enough been said? what happened to you and your “limits”?”, you sarcastically asked, putting emphasis on the limits part. he sighed, looking down at the ground. “listen, please. i really, really didn’t mean all of that. i was just so overwhelmed and exhausted but i know that doesn’t excuse me snapping on you like that. i don’t know where i’d be without you watching over me all the time”, he spoke, his voice was passionate and somewhat shaky. “i love you so much, y/n. i wouldn’t be where i am without you, and i’m so, so sorry for taking that all out on you”, he finished. only hearing silence back from you, he got nervous. slowly looking up, he was faced with the sight of you with tears glistening in your eyes. his eyes widened as he panicked. “oh no… i’m sorry, i’m sorry! was it something i said? shit-“, “no- no, you’re fine, zuku. this is perfect, actually. thank you”, you cut him off, a small tear falling down your face as you quickly wiped it away. izuku sighed as he pushed the door out of the way and pulled you into a hug. “i love you so much and i’m so sorry”, he told you again, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “it’s okay, i love you too”, you sighed, snuggling into his hold. “i thought you were gonna break up with me for a second…”, he confessed. you let out a laugh at this, causing him to laugh a bit as well. “i’d have to go crazy to break up with you”.

katsuki bakugo

- yeah… he was losing it 💀

- he expected you to get over the whole situation overnight and things would go back to normal the next day, but it was the complete opposite.

- you ignored him constantly throughout the entire day.

- even when he’d call out your name, you’d act like you didn’t hear anything.

- his final straw was when you tried to walk home without him.

- that’s when he snapped, he was tired of the hard feelings between you two and he couldn’t deal with it anymore, he wanted to fix it.

you felt a hold on your wrist that caused you let out a slight shriek, but you quickly calmed down when seeing who’s touch it was. of course, it was katsuki. “are we gonna talk about this or are you just gonna keep ignoring me?”, he asked, and surprisingly he seemed genuine too. “you made it known what place this relationship has in your life, i really don’t see what else there is to talk about”, you answered, your voice raw and harsh. he hated this side of you, and he hated being the reason for it. “i don’t- can you just listen to me?”, he somewhat begged, his voice quickly descending from annoyance to calmness. your eyes somewhat widened at his urgency. it wasn’t often that you saw him be so vulnerable in a sense, honestly you don’t ever recall seeing him like this. “i’m listening”, you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared at him, waiting to hear what he could possibly say. you had a hard time believing that he was actually about to take accountability for everything because based on previous events, he didn’t seem like the type to do so, ever. “ok… i know i fucked up. i’m not gonna stand here like a moron and act like there was a good reason for forgetting our anniversary because there wasn’t. i was just caught up with all my training that it slipped my mind, but i know that doesn’t make up for shit. and all those things i said last night, i didn’t mean it. any of it, i was being fuckin’ careless with my words. it wasn’t “just some anniversary”, it’s a big ass milestone, i know that and i wanna make it up to you. i treated you like straight shit and i regret it so, so bad. i… i’m sorry”, he spoke firmly, making sure you knew his words were genuine, and you definitely did. your eyes were blown open, shocked at the speech he just gave. you never thought you’d ever see him so apologetic or ever hear him say things like these. you could feel tears pricking your eyes, but you quickly pushed them away, letting out a soft giggle. he raised an eyebrow but quickly lost his composure when you jumped into his arms, holding onto him tightly. “t-thank you katsuki. this means the world to me, seriously. i forgive you”, you sniffled, hiding your face in his neck. he let out a chuckle, hugging you back. “yeah, yeah. and i’m serious ‘bout what i said, im gonna take my sweet girl on a proper anniversary date, alright?”, he smirked, rubbing your back. “yeah, that sounds perfect”.

shoto todoroki

- the difference between shoto and the other two is that he didn’t even wait till the next day to talk to you 😭

- he wanted to make things right between you two and fast, you knew how much he hated ending things on a bad note between you two.

- he made his way to your dorm, determined to gain your forgiveness

- it was when when he got to your dorm and heard sniffling from the outside, his heart ached. he knew how bad he messed up.

leaning against the door separating you from him, he heard soft sobs and sniffles, causing his heart to ache a bit. he never wanted to be the one responsible for your tears and sadness. he was meant to be the person to take that all away from you, but yet here he was, being the reason you were crying alone in a dark room late at night. he gently knocked against the door, and once he did the noises behind the door came to an immediate stop. “y/n, it’s me… can we talk?”, he asked, his fist still on the door as he waited for an answer. a few seconds went by, nothing. he knew you were in there, so he figured you were either ignoring him or just didn’t want to face him. “i know you’re in there, but i understand if you don’t want to talk to me right now… i’ll still say what i have to say anyway”, he started, clearing his throat. on the other side of the door, you were scooting closer to the door, wanting to hear what he had to say. you weren’t going to open the door, you couldn’t face him with how much of a mess you were in. you didn’t want him to see you in such a weak state because of him. “i’m so sorry for what i said earlier. i didn’t mean any of it. my father gave me a hard time when i visited and natsuo was also pushing it with him, it was just a mess. that’s why i was so upset, but that doesn’t matter anymore. i should’ve talked to you instead of holding it all in. it’s like you said, if i keep holding in all my problems, i’ll burst, and that’s what happened. you didn’t deserve that at all, and i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean any of it”, he confessed. he waited a couple moments, praying that you’d respond. when he heard nothing, he rested his forehead against the door, sighing. “i’m not leaving until i know you’re okay”, he muttered. little did he know on the other side of the door, you were tearing up all over again. you quickly stood up, unlocking the door and whipping it open as you jumped into his arms. he was startled but quickly wrapped his arms around you, sighing with relief. “i love you, sho… it’s all fine now, i forgive you”, you told him, your voice a bit shaky as you smiled, hiding you face in his neck. “i love you so much more”, he muttered. he took you out of his arms for a moment, taking your face into his hands. he let out a sad sigh at your bloodshot eyes and red nose, feeling so guilty. “i’m sorry, so sorry my love”, he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and then your forehead. “it’s alright now, just promise me you’ll talk to me from now on, ‘kay?”, “i promise”.

#mha fanfiction #bakugo katuski #bakugo x reader #mha #mha scenarios #mha x reader #deku fluff #deku x reader #mha imagines #shoto todoroki #todoroki imagine #todoroki x reader #bakugo imagine #deku imagine #izuku midoriya #mha comfort #deku comfort #bakugo comfort #todoroki comfort

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sunkendreams · 5 months

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Idk exactly what to ask for, but I have an ✨idea✨

Dwayne who seemingly has a penchant for choking his SO. He just loves the little whimpers and moans they make, and the way they squirm.

Really basic, ik 💀. You can take this and run, or simply enjoy this thought with me, but I wanted to share 🥰

moving in stereo.

( dwayne x fem!reader. )

➾ pairing ; dwayne x fem!reader.

format: one-shot — requested.

word count: 5.9K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), making out, dirty talk, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breast-play, biting, hair-pulling, scratching, breeding kink, scent kink, p in v sex, missionary position, rough sex, begging, unprotected sex, mating press (a little bit), choking, bruising/marking, dwayne is hot

author’s note: i am so obsessed with him, it’s not even funny ngl :’) also, I have a couple of other fics/drabbles that I’ll probably post tonight too, I’m definitely feeling very inspired! If you haven’t voted on my poll, please do so! thank you guys sm for your continued love & support !! ❤️

Beads of blood filled your mouth as you absentmindedly chewed at the skin of your cheek, flesh taut between your back molars — you hadn’t intended to bite down as hard as you did. A singular glance at Dwayne’s hands had contorted into shameless ogling, smitten hues discreetly flickering over the veins and smudges of grayish grease coating his fingers.

He had a way with machinery that transcended you — he often claimed that it was simply natural instinct, but your running theory was something buried in his past life. Dwayne was known for his stoicism and quiet demeanor, neglecting to educate you on his background.

It must’ve been a life of hard work — otherwise, his hands wouldn’t have appeared so rough and calloused. They weren’t smooth and spindly like Marko’s, or pretty like Paul’s. They were taut and thick, dexterous and built for destruction, if he let it.

Hands that had held you many times before, touched you in ways that you longed to feel again. A shudder rolled down your spine as you daydreamed, mind floating into a fantastical haze of lascivious thoughts. If it weren’t for the presence of the other boys, a tendril of drool might’ve leaked from the corner of your mouth.

“It’s fucked, isn’t it?”

Paul’s agitated groan reverberated throughout the cavern as he crouched beside his boombox, slapping a palm against the top of the speaker, as if that would cure all ailments. His brows furrowed together, lip curled in annoyance as he knocked his hand against the machine a second time — for good measure.

“You’ll ruin it if you keep it up.” Dwayne’s monotonous remark echoed from the opposite side of the lobby. He was entrenched in repairing his motorcycle after it had gotten vandalized by a Surf-Nazi who didn’t live to tell the tale. Paul’s beloved stereo was the least of his concerns.

“How are we gonna listen to Alice?” A begrudging sigh escaped Paul, whose theatrics weren’t out of the ordinary. He huffed, falling in a dramatic heap along the edge of the dilapidated fountain. “Can’t you fix it, Dwayne?” He asked, peering toward his brother, who seemed entirely uninterested.

Silence filled the chasm between them, prompting you to stifle a smile. Dwayne didn’t enjoy being bothered whenever he was working on a project — he was always one to see it through until the very end.

David and Marko emerged from their abysmal resting place. Once the sun disappeared behind the ocean and dusk consumed dawn, the boys became wildly active. “Paul,” David’s voice carried, always domineering without even trying. “Let’s go.”

Disappointed in the lack of closure for his treasured boombox, Paul relented, rolling off of the stone bannister with an exaggerated sigh. He ruffled your hair in passing, and smacked Dwayne on the way out, who didn’t flinch or move a muscle. He simply exhaled — you could sense the twinge of irritation in his sigh alone.

Paul snickered, hopping up the ledge alongside David and Marko. “See you later, bud.” He sneered, waving at you as he departed with his brothers. Once the trio slunk away into the moonlight, it left you and Dwayne by yourselves in the cave.

You could’ve watched Dwayne work for hours, captivated by the way he dismantled the machinery, handling the finer pieces with nimble digits. He was wrist-deep in the grease-laden guts of his motorcycle, surrounded by a myriad of scrap and parts. His dark brows were furrowed together in stark concentration.

Intrigued, you abandoned your perch — a rickety, velvet-cushioned chair that had come with the hotel’s ancient wreckage. Paul’s stereo was sitting along the ledge, awaiting a tune-up that you knew Dwayne would inevitably provide. You sat down, inspecting it for any damage — it looked unharmed, on the outside.

“Do you think it was a user error sort of thing?” A burst of laughter escaped you as you opened up the hatch for the cassette tapes, noticing a rather banged-up copy of Alice Cooper’s Constrictor from ‘86. It was a good choice — you had to commend Paul’s taste in music.

Dwayne’s soft, bemused huff was all you needed to hear, prompting you to smile. You never mistook his tranquil, halcyon demeanor as indifference — he was a man of very few words. Even his temper wasn’t violent or tempestuous, like that of Marko or David. His placidity in most things was what drew you to him in the first place.

Being a human amongst a den of rancorous vampires wasn’t your intention, but you were happy — happiest with Dwayne, above all. He was the best boyfriend you’d ever had, not that it was a lengthy list. You idly fiddled with some of the switches on the boombox, removing and reinserting the cassette before closing it up.

Much to your chagrin, the stereo didn’t work — maybe it wasn’t Paul’s imagination after all. You gently nudged it back along the ledge, abandoning it for now. “How come you didn’t go with the others?” You inquired, folding one leg over the other, tapping the heel of your boot against the dusty stone.

There was a slight shift in his body language — a mere shrug of his broad shoulders, accompanied by the noises of metal clanging, gears twisting, and then he grunted. “I’m not looking for dinner.” Dwayne replied, matter-of-factly. He was in the midst of replacing the engine on his bike, placing the damaged part aside, hands stained in dark ichor.

With a soft hum, you pushed yourself off of the ledge, wandering over toward Dwayne’s scrapyard — a rather cluttered corner of the cave that acted as a makeshift garage. You sat along one of the flat outcroppings of rock, opting to watch him fix up his motorcycle. It would intrigue you more than messing with the boombox ever would.

His pearlescent teeth clenched around a wrench, clutched between his maw as he focused on putting the new engine back in. There was a quiet appreciation that he held for you — you were always respectful of his hobbies, if this even counted as one. Dark eyes flickered toward you, sitting there in your billowing sundress like some statuesque angel.

Dwayne appraised you in his usual silence, eyes carefully raking along your physique, as if he were undressing you through gaze alone. His jaw tensed, a fire beginning to spark within his chest, threatening to spread like an encroaching wildfire the longer he ogled you.

Sundresses were a hot commodity — and they never lasted, either. Dwayne made sure of it, and once he got his hands on you, that pretty fabric shielding you from him would cease to exist. He made it up to you with the gift of another, but rest assured, it would be shortlived.

It was a mutual feeling, the silent staring. His keen hues settled along the supple curves hiding just beneath that thin veil of fabric while you were captivated by the visual feast of strong, capable hands and taut forearms. You folded your hands within your lap, beginning to absentmindedly chew at your inner cheek again.

Your scent wafted throughout the short distance between the both of you, heavy with hints of your favorite perfume, a saccharine concoction that Dwayne had grown accustomed to. He loved your smell — it was unique to you, invading his senses as he continued his work.

Those strong, muscled hands of his were buried in the underbelly of the motorcycle, carefully placing the new engine back inside. He began to fasten it all into place, removing the wrench from his mouth, quickly fixing it all up with a series of bolts, screws, and metallic plates.

“I’ll teach you sometime.” Dwayne was, oddly enough, the one to shatter the comfortable silence between the both of you. He prided himself on playing mechanic — his ability to handle such equipment and repair it was rather renowned. Once he was satisfied with the job, he sat back, peering toward you.

Warmth oozed from those earthen-brown hues of his, coupled with a subtle adoration that only he possessed for you. Your smile only served to further it, the only thing to make his dead heart pump to life again.

“I’d like that,” You mused, canting your head to one side. “I think you should fix Paul’s stereo, too.” Even if Dwayne had brushed him off before, he would fix it and have it ready for him whenever he came back. It was the right thing to do, anyway.

Dwayne huffed, lips twitching into a threadbare smile, wrought with traces of amusement. He didn’t say anything — he didn’t need to. He wiped his hands off along the crimson cloth he carried in his back pocket, ridding his hands of engine grease and oil.

He stood, filling in his full height as he bent down to give you a kiss, hand carding through the back of your skull. It never failed to make you shudder, haplessly squeezing your thighs together as you reached for his forearm. Powerful, taut muscle flexed underneath your fingertips, and his kiss briefly intensified before he withdrew.

That familiar aching sensation flickered to life between your legs, a dull arousal pooling within your stomach. You wanted nothing more than to cling to him, beg for another kiss, but Dwayne was already over to the stereo, inspecting it for any damage it might’ve had.

For Dwayne, your mind was exceptionally loud — he could read your thoughts, hear them screaming from afar, which he happened to smile at from where he stood. The feeling was mutual, but he wanted to make you stew in it for a little while — it heightened the experience.

As he dismantled the stereo, you decided to go elsewhere — to Paul’s nest, which wasn’t the brightest idea, but he had an impressive collection of cassette tapes. You began climbing toward the rocky slope that led off into alcoves, using some of the ropes hanging about to pull yourself up.

“Where are you going?” Dwayne asked, seemingly finding the source of the boombox’s disarray — there were pieces of tape stuck in the machine.

“To see what Paul has to listen to,” You mused, nose wrinkling in amusement. “It’s the least that he can do for you since you fixed it. We should go listen to music.” Truthfully, Dwayne owned that stupid stereo just as much as Paul did — joint custody, you’d called it.

Hawkish, dark hues drank you in from afar, and Dwayne decided that he’d indulge himself in your wishes, picking up the boombox by the bottom. The handle had been broken off long ago — courtesy of Paul, once again. He simply trailed behind you, briefly pressing his hand against the small of your back when you made it up the incline, keeping you steady.

Paul’s nest was notoriously cluttered — in a very fascinating and macabre manner. It was littered in trinkets, things he’d taken from people he fed from, bones and all, or general thievary. The boys were all like this, but not to Paul’s level.

Posters of hair-bands and metal groups hung all around the rock, illuminated by flickering candlelight. It smelled faintly of marijuana, decorated by a patchwork array of tapestries, clothes, and stolen jackets. The guitar he’d lifted off of a traveling rock group sat on his bed — he always talked about starting a band.

A mountain of cassette tapes lay in a semi-organized heap, many of them taken from Videomax or anywhere he could find them. Dwayne simply stood at the fringes of Paul’s nest, watching as you picked through his extensive collection. You smiled at the handful you’d grabbed, rejoining Dwayne as the two of you made for his nest.

In an amusing juxtaposition, Dwayne’s nest was noticeably simplistic — yet, his personality was scrawled all over it. He liked to read, keeping a trunk of books, tools he’d taken from garages, and some trinkets stashed away in a large piece of a drawer.

He hadn’t bothered to invest in a bed for several decades — not until he got entangled with you. When Marko had mentioned it to you in-passing, it was rather intriguing, but you never asked Dwayne about it.

With the stereo now placed at the foot of his makeshift bed, placed atop a rather rickety wooden trunk, you ejected Alice Cooper from the hatch and put in The Cars, instead. Dwayne happened to regard this choice with curiosity, sitting along the edge of the mattress.

Moving in Stereo began to drift through the alcove, and you promptly fell back against the plush surface, tucking your hands atop your chest. “This song reminds me of you.” You murmured, gazing at the cavernous ceiling, focused on the jagged edges and outcroppings of rock.

Dwayne seemed curious, twisting slightly to face you. Even when sitting, he towered over you, indomitable and immovable, a wall of sheer strength and muscle. “Why does it remind you of me?” He wanted to hear your answer, eyes flickering toward your exposed stomach.

You smiled, somewhat embarrassed, but you decided to answer him anyway. “I don’t know,” You began, rolling over onto your side, propping yourself up with one hand. “Just a bit of a mystery, but alluring. It’s pretty magnetizing.” With a soft exhale, you began to pick at a stray string on one of the blankets that covered the mattress.

“Magnetizing,” Dwayne echoed, withholding the urge to smirk. Instead, he joined you, laying on his side as he mirrored your position, face mere centimeters away from yours. “You got a way with words, girl.” His chest shook with a brief huff before he leaned in to kiss you.

If a kiss could have destroyed you, this was it — Dwayne’s mouth consumed you, intensified by your seemingly innocuous words. He tasted good, like spiced smoke and the faint bite of copper.

You were eternally grateful to The Cars — Dwayne was careening into you, broad chest flush against yours, veined hand grasping at the base of your skull. Thick digits massaged at the nape of your neck, coaxing you close until there was no space left between you, lips voraciously tangling with yours.

He ripped all wisps of air from your lungs, as cold as ice as he shrugged off his jacket. Arousal reactivated inside of you, no longer dormant as your warm hands reached for his chest, feeling broad muscle underneath your palms. He felt like a god — chiseled, forever perfect — you were sometimes in-awe of his beauty.

In awe — Dwayne smirked against your mouth, unable to help himself when it came to your overactive imagination and racing thoughts. He pushed his hand underneath your shirt, fingers tracing along your curves as he began to feel a familiar tightening in his jeans.

Your scent thoroughly intoxicated him — your natural musk, the cling of perfume, the arousal coalescing between your thighs — it was a perfect amalgamation. Dwayne exhaled, sitting up and taking you with him, hands hooking into the hem of your shirt as he peeled it off of you.

His lips were on your flesh again, hands tearing your thin brassiere apart with ease, reveling in your warmth. Dwayne pressed a string of kisses along your neck, feeling the thrum of your pulse point pound against his mouth. The shorts you wore still clung to your frame, but they wouldn’t be for much longer.

“Dwayne,” You sighed, The Cars becoming nothing more than atmospheric background noise. Liquid heat pooled between your legs, a shiver rolling down your spine as he laid you down against the mattress, covering you with his body. Your eyes locked together as he stared down at you, gaze boring right through you. “I need you.”

Dwayne kissed your neck, sucking enough to create a hickey before he traveled to the base of your throat, peppering kisses across your collarbone. “Where do you need me, sweet girl?” His husky, warm baritone made you shiver in delight. Those eyes raked over you in rapture, full of reverence.

“Everywhere,” You whimpered, goosebumps coalescing along your spine. Dwayne’s huff of laughter made you smile, and you quickly urged him closer for another kiss. His mouth crashed against yours, passionate and blistering, full of an unrestrained want. “I’m yours.” A sweet moan tore past your lips.

A wave of possessiveness swelled up inside of him, coupled with that innate desire to keep you all to himself. Dwayne didn’t have an issue sharing with his brothers, but you? No — you belonged to him, and him alone. A growl rippled across his broad chest as he tore his lips away, returning to your sternum.

There was a prowess to him that the others didn’t possess — Dwayne was emotionally intelligent, just as vicious in the same breath. He was an enigma of so many things, drawing you in with his arcadian charm. Your fingers reached for his dark tresses, perusing through as he kissed your chest.

“You’re beautiful,” Dwayne’s affectionate baritone rumbled across your flesh as he continued his slow, deliberate string of kisses, making his way to your breasts. He trapped one nipple between his lips, gently suckling on the sensitive mound, the other hand tugging at your shorts. “Perfect.” He uttered.

You sighed, fingers tangling within his mane of black tresses, pulling and carding through. It felt silky between your digits, like velvet. Those veined, calloused hands gripped along the meat of your hips, strong and unwavering as he lifted you to discard your shorts.

Arousal pooled between your legs, honey-thick as it toyed with Dwayne’s senses. He wanted nothing more than to drown himself between your thighs, devour you until you were a trembling, mewling mess. Your thoughts shamelessly echoed that sentiment, prompting him to reach toward the apex of your thighs, hand breaking past the waistline of your panties.

Dexterous fingers languidly slipped along your slick cunt, making a line right for your clit. Your body responded in a near-violent fashion, hips jolting up into him, hands curling within his hair. “D—Dwayne!” You whimpered, chasing after the friction his hand provided. Those dark hues hadn’t left you, transfixed on your smitten countenance as he kissed your stomach.

He looked big when his body was spread over yours, but when he began to slink toward your thighs, he was hulking, a massive wall of muscle. Dwayne’s kisses continued, littered all across your pelvis and thighs, fingers still winding you up as he pushed in between your legs with those broad, bronze shoulders.

His visage was rugged with a fine layer of dark stubble, tangible as it scratched against your inner thighs. He curled his hands into your panties, and instead of removing them, Dwayne simply tore them asunder, leaving remnants of fabric behind. The alcove reverberated with the sounds of material being ripped apart.

A thin sheen of arousal painted your cunt, scent stinging his nose in the most pleasant way possible. The velveteen flesh of your inner thighs were layered in faint bite marks — his own, from the past. He looked to you for approval, thumb lazily circling around your clit.

“Please.” You huffed, head bobbing up and down in an idle nod as he moved his lips toward a patch of flesh, unmarred by any bites. Dwayne was always very sensual, and even when he fed from you, it felt so lascivious. Your body jolted, hips writhing closer as he began to bite down.

Dark, earthy-brown hues melted away into pools of a golden-red, unnaturally vibrant. The initial sting of his bite made you wince, but he was always gentle with you when it came to feeding. As sharp teeth drew blood, a low growl reverberated throughout his chest, causing you to shiver. Your fingers continued to trace through his mane of black hair, a myriad of moans escaping you.

Restraining himself from taking this further, he had his fill, kissing over your now-healing bite. Dwayne licked his lips, effortlessly tossing both of your legs over his broad shoulders as he tugged you closer. You were somewhat folded at the hips, but you didn’t care.

Dwayne’s gaze was incendiary, intense — he stared you down from his perch between your thighs. You were visibly flustered, staring right back, nearly shrinking away altogether. He kissed your thighs, mouth dangerously close to your aching cunt. “You ready, girl?” He asked, inhaling another gust of your scent.

You nodded, feeling every fiber of your being scream with desire, and you wanted him terribly. “Yes,” You whimpered, hands having splayed out at your sides instead, no longer buried within his hair. “Dwayne, please,” His deliberation made it worse. “I want you so bad.” Your hips wriggled again, desperate for his mouth.

A warm, hearty chuckle emerged from his lips, making his herculean form shake between your legs. “Just relax,” He soothed, noticing how coiled and poised you were. Those strong, veined hands wrapped around your thighs, keeping you spread apart. The flat of his tongue lapped across your slit in one long stroke. “Relax, Mama.” His voice made your head swim.

Relaxation wasn’t exactly your forte — you were too wound-up, too drunk with desire to simply sit still and melt into the mattress. Dwayne’s tongue began to lap you up, greedily consuming every drop of your sweet arousal, working along your cunt. His fingers clamped hard, enough to leave behind the inklings of bruises, etched into your flesh like his personal brand.

Your thighs threatened to squeeze at his head, but he kept your legs firmly planted on his shoulders, pinning you down and rendering you immobile. Your taste saturated his tongue, and he only chased after it, dutifully lapping at your slit as his nose absentmindedly grazed against your clit.

Dwayne was relatively silent — and you didn’t mind in the slightest. The only ambiance happened to be The Cars, your delighted moans, and your boyfriend’s deep, rumbling grunts. His tongue worked wonders on your aching slit, cunt clenching pathetically around nothing as he lapped you up, gaze flickering towards you.

Your countenance was a vision of beauty, all contorted into an expression of complete and utter bliss. Your hips writhed, with very little room to go considering that Dwayne had you locked down, arms bracketed on your thighs, keeping you caged in against him.

A heavy fire burned bright within the pit of your stomach, demanding to be extinguished. Throaty, noisy moans escaped you in droves, vocalizing your delight as Dwayne vigorously lapped at your cunt. He alternated patterns, between soft and exploratory and recklessly needy. His mouth occasionally brushed over your clit, causing you to shiver.

Each time he ate you out, it was almost like the first time all over again — blissful, filled with a lust-infused passion that threatened to swallow you whole. Dwayne was beyond attentive, savoring you as if you were the most delicious meal he’d ever had.

He lowered himself toward the mattress, musculature flat and poised between your thighs. Those strong, thick arms kept you held in-place, keeping you locked in as he continued to lap at your core. His hips rocked forward, harshly grinding against the bed to relieve some of the friction.

Much to your surprise, Dwayne got off on pleasuring you above all else. There was something intimately carnal about it, knowing that you only made those sounds for him, only let him touch you. Your hips jolted forward, met with a barrage of an eager tongue and mouth as he lapped at your cunt.

Dwayne grunted, lips opting to purse around your clit, instead. Your reaction was visceral, moans ascending to an excitable crescendo as your hands flew toward his hair. He grunted again, attempting to vocalize his own satisfaction of you pulling and tugging on his dark tresses as if they were reins.

A burnished-gold coloration had swallowed brown irises whole, flickering down towards your blissed-out visage. Your body had a mind of its own, twitching and writhing as his mouth relentlessly assaulted your aching cunt. Pleasure licked acros your frame, burning along your sensitive nerves. He was vigorous and attentive, throat itching with a dull, familiar ache.

Hunger could wait — Dwayne merely placed that feeling into the recesses of his mind. His tongue continued to cascade across your slit, lapping at your arousal before he returned his attention to your clit, suckling on that bundle of nerves. He steered you towards your orgasm, mind swimming with a thick haze of lust, overwhelmed by your heady scent.

“Dwayne!” Your voice carried above the nest, echoing throughout your cavernous surroundings. Fortunately, you were alone — you had little desire to mask how you felt about him. Needy digits gripped at his tresses again, hips bucking into his mouth until you were simply a pile of mush, unable to respond.

You were lost to the white-hot heat of your release, an explosive sensation that caused you to quiver and spasm in delight. A glittering perspiration danced across your hot flesh, sparkling from the glow of the candlelight. “Dwayne,” You huffed, a whimper emerging from the back of your throat as he dutifully cleaned you up.

He released your hips from his ironclad hold, crawling along your body until his broad frame nestled between your thighs. That taut, muscled hand rest against the base of your throat, digits gingerly squeezing on either side of your windpipe. You initiate a rather tantalizing kiss, able to taste yourself upon his tongue.

A clattering sound resonates in your vicinity, Dwayne wrestling his belt off of his hips as his jeans sag upon his frame. He’s swift, wrangling his pants aside with one hand, the other clutching onto your pretty throat like a vice, evoking a string of sinful noises from your mouth. You kiss him with a desperation that he matches tenfold.

His hips brush against yours, and the distance is nonexistent, closed by your stoic paramour, whose normally-cold gaze reflects with a semblance of warmth. Your hands clamor for his broad shoulders, sinking into the expanse of bronze skin, nails clamping down when he drags the head of his cock against your cunt.

“Speak up, sweet girl.” Dwayne grunts, lips ghosting above the shell of your ear. He thoroughly enjoyed your begging on occasion, with this happening to be one of those occurrences. His lips briefly press against the side of your face, stubble grazing across your silken complexion.

With an agonizing pace, he continued to toy with you, pushing his cock against your entrance, but declining to go any further. A pained whine escaped you as you tilted yourself closer. The hand around your throat squeezes, effectively commanding your attention.

“Please,” You sputter, squirming in delight whenever those veined digits tense around the slender expanse of your jugular. “Dwayne, please,” Your simpering pleas are met with a hiss as he sluggishly sinks into you, inch by inch. He lets out another shallow rumble when your fingers brazenly dig into his shoulder. “Please move!”

Cold-blooded and dangerous — but not to you, not now. The icy temperature of his flesh swallows the warmth wafting from you as he invades your space, musculature eclipsing any light. His shadow falls across you, visage awash with his own carnal delight. You’re tight around him, aided by your arousal.

Another satisfactory snarl rips forth from his mouth, echoing next to your ear. You wrap your legs around his broad hips, gasping when he began to move. His cock hit new depths, pulling halfway out before Dwayne pushed himself back in again. His pace was rhythmic and passionate — not sloppy or too rough.

The pad of his thumb draws circles along the curve of your jawline, the rest of his hand tight around your windpipe. You moan, legs locked like a vice as he continues to roll his hips forward, cock battering its way into your cunt with a domineering force. Dwayne was taking it easy on you — if he lost control, it wouldn’t be very pretty for either of you.

His lips find yours, kissing you fervently as you reciprocate in a flurry of passion. Heat bled from you, arousal seeping from your core as Dwayne continued to rut into you, one hand splayed beside your head. The sparkling sheen of his ring glints in the lower light, mouth relentlessly assaulting yours in a barrage of kisses.

Dwayne grunts into your mouth, but the entanglement is shortlived as he moves to cover parts of your neck in kisses — whatever parts aren’t covered by his hand. You feel the sudden scrape of razor-sharp fangs drifting over your flesh, testing your resolve. You shudder, eyes fluttering shut as you grip and pull on his hair.

Sometimes you simply forgot that he was a specter of the night, a fanged creature who had the capability to rip you apart at any moment. His fangs continue to hover across your neck before they retracted, lips replacing them as he kissed your pulse point. There was an added element of thrill and exhilaration as you whimpered, his name spilling from your mouth over and over again.

You nearly see stars when he pistons himself into you again, slow and savoring you, enjoying the sluggishness of it all as Dwayne continues to drag out his thrusts. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his length, prompting you to whimper and moan, goosebumps coalescing along your spine.

“More,” It was incoherent, a string of needy babbles that escaped you in droves. “Dwayne, please,” You whimpered, chewing at your lower lip. In the midst of his own pleasure, Dwayne’s calculating stare flickered toward you — it wasn’t a good idea. “Please, please fuck me.” You begged, hearing the growl that echoed deep from within his chest.

“You sure?” Dwayne didn’t want to hurt you, but he was inclined to obey your needy command. Another grunt escaped him as he steadily rutted away into your tight cunt, deliberating in the midst of it all. “Won’t be gentle.” His stark warning was concrete, you knew this — you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you nodded several times over, digits gently curling around his wrist. “Yeah.” You panted, chest fluttering with a tight sensation as he gave you a hasty, passionate kiss, a parting gift as he squeezed at your jugular. That steady rhythm began to pick up instantaneously.

Dwayne made sure to watch you closely, gaze hawkishly trained upon your body as he began to fuck you. The intensity and the heat rose like a tidal wave, consuming the both of you as he pounded away at your poor cunt. Your legs rattled like leaves, attempting to stay locked around his waist.

The taut muscles of his shoulders and abdomen worked in-tandem, body effortlessly exerting strength. For him, it was nothing — for you, it was a different experience entirely. He was rough, manhandling you with one hand as he grabbed at your hips, enough to leave behind faint impressions in the form of bruises.

Moving in Stereo still swallowed any background noise, encompassing the whole of Dwayne’s nest. You were a complete and utter mess, devolving into a puddle of sweet moans and needy whimpers, especially whenever he applied pressure around your throat. He squeezed whenever he thrust into you, force akin to that of a barely-restrained battering ram.

Even in his self-proclaimed roughness, Dwayne was still executing some measure of restraint. “Mine,” His thunderous voice swarmed you from all sides as he fucked you into submission, gritting pearlescent teeth together as he approached his climax. You kept nodding, back arching into his touch.

“Dwayne,” Dwayne — it feels like the only word you’re capable of saying, rolling from your tongue with a wanton moan. You tug on his tresses with an urgency, feeling his hips grind against yours, flesh kissing flesh with unyielding thrusts. His cock continues to bury itself deep inside of your needy slit until it can go no further. “S—Shit! Right there!” You cry.

He huffs, musculature flat against you, chest to chest as you coax him in for another kiss. You whimper into his mouth when his tongue tangles with yours like a heat-seeking missile, teeth breaking the thin skin of your lower lip. Pearls of crimson trickle onto his tongue, fusing lust with hunger — all for you.

Dwayne didn’t stop, showing no signs of stopping as he fucked the both of you through an orgasm, painting your cunt in hot ropes of seed. He doesn’t pull out, a sensation that the two of you feed off of. If it weren’t for his vampirism, you’d be round with his children — the fantasy would continue to linger on for as long as he pleased.

“Shit, Mama,” Dwayne’s strained baritone sends shivers throughout your body. He rarely talks during sex, and this felt like a treat as he continued to thrust into you, feeling your nails dig angry crescents into his shoulder. He groans, savoring the feeling of your constant tugging on his mane of dark tresses. “You’re perfect.” His voice tapered off into a possessive growl.

You want to scream, a raging fire surging throughout your body before it finally comes to an end, extinguished by Dwayne’s rough rutting. He could’ve kept it up, continued all night long with his cock stuffed inside of you, but humanity was both a blessing and a curse. Your thighs shook underneath his grasp, and he began to slow, pressing kisses along your collarbone.

His hand left behind a searing brand around your throat — whether or not the imprints are visible, it’s the sensation that refuses to leave. Your windpipe feels a little sore, but it’s a pleasant burn as he comes to a crawl, nestling his forehead against yours.

The excitement and blissful thrill of the moment steadily begins to fade, composure replacing a very heavy lust. Your heart thrums beneath your breast, beginning to crawl to a more uniform beat as you nudge forward, kissing Dwayne again. Your lips are swollen, split down the middle with a patch of dried cruor.

Dwayne’s exhale of relaxation comes after, and the tension within his body unfurls. He kept himself inside of you still, feeling your poor cunt clench around his cock when he adjusted his position. His kiss is astoundingly tender this time around, able to taste the pang of copper upon your lip, accompanied by your natural sweetness.

A sense of euphoria overwhelms you, body feeling wonderfully heavy as Dwayne peppered kisses all along your jaw and collarbone. “You alright?” He murmured, making sure that he hadn’t pushed the limit with you. It was easy to become lost in the moment, forget about your humanity.

You nodded, wincing slightly when he pulled out of you, resting his head against your stomach, arms encircling themselves around you. “Better than alright,” You mused, tracing your fingers throughout his hair. “You think Paul will mind that we borrowed his stereo?” Laughter burst forth from your mouth.

A bemused huff escaped Dwayne as he reached over with one muscled arm, hitting the ‘NEXT’ track on the boombox. He pulled you close, nose wrinkling in disdain as Drive by The Cars came on — it wasn’t exactly his taste in music.

“Like you said,” He rumbled, peering up at you with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. His arms effortlessly tugged you down to his level, lips twitching into a faint smirk, rare for Dwayne yet mesmerizing all the same. His mouth brushed above yours. “Joint custody.”

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #slasher x reader #slasher x you #tlb dwayne x reader #dwayne tlb x reader #the lost boys fanfiction #the lost boys #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #the lost boys 1987

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redstarwriting · 1 year

Text

protected

hobie brown x o’hara!reader

request?: yes

request: “I know you’re probably busy 🙏🏽 but can I request a hobie x reader Where reader is miguels kid but from another universe and we were known as “dangerous” to the multiverse and miguel had to watch over us and we find out while hanging out with hobie and hobie has to comfort us as we try to process the fact that Miguel wasn’t our real dad and just someone keeping the mutliverse safe?

I really hope this makes sense i just don’t know how to make is make sense uk? 😭 💀”

requested by: @millerworld

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst with some fluff

Warnings: language, mentions of childbirth death, big feelings of betrayal, probably horrible spanish, honestly a lot of angst

A/N: apologies for the wait for this one! i love writing angst though so i was rubbing my hands together like an evil lil bitch writing this. i apologize if the spanish is wrong/not how it would actually be said/worded. been a minute since i took a spanish course, so i am a little rusty. please enjoy, and thank you so much for requesting, love! :)

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Ever since you remembered your dad, Miguel O’Hara, was there. Of course, there are certain moments of your childhood you don’t remember, as every child has, but your earliest memory is your dad picking you up and soothing you as you cried at two years old. And ever since then, he was always there. Your friends at school would always say you were so lucky that you had a dad that was so devoted to you, and you agreed. To an extent. See, he was very particular about what he allowed you to do. It wasn’t in a negative way, necessarily, he was just protective. His favorite saying and your least favorite saying in your house was ‘I just want what’s best for you, cariño.’

It resulted in you staying home from school events, friend events, and generally any type of event where your safety could have been compromised. It caused you to be a bit of a loner, always hearing about the parties, the gossip, all of it instead of actually experiencing it for yourself.

Of course, it annoyed you.

It still does.

He’s loosened up a bit eventually, though, allowing you to go to work with him. Which also meant you got to meet many spiders. Quite a few of the spider-people quickly became your closest friends, as it was simpler and easier for your dad to keep tabs on you in Spider Society. Much to his chagrin, you quickly became best friends with Hobie Brown. The two of you were around the same age, and since you were annoyed at your dad and in your rebellious era, you got along swimmingly. A little too swimmingly, actually, which Miguel purposefully chose to ignore for the most part. Until he saw Hobie sucking his little one’s face off. Regardless, Hobie was always quick to validate all your conflicted, annoyed, and even positive feelings about your father. He even helped you come out of your shell and rebel against Miguel occasionally.

Miguel didn’t like this very much, but he also knew that Hobie was still a good influence on you. No matter how many times both of you tried to convince him that he wasn’t. But sometimes, Hobie would talk you into doing things that he very much disliked. Hated, even. And this time was one of those times. While he was out, containing a particularly difficult anomaly, Hobie convinced you to search through Miguel’s personal files on his supercomputer because he bet if your birth certificate would be anywhere, it would be there. When you found a folder with your name, you expected to open it to see some family pictures, hoping for your birth certificate with the name of your mom. Your dad never really talked about your mom, just that she passed away during childbirth. You stopped asking because every time you did, he would get very quiet and a guilty look would appear on his face. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. So you went into this endeavor excited to see what you might find out. Unfortunately, that excitement didn’t last for very long. See when you opened your file expecting these mundane things, that wasn’t what you were met with.

In fact, that was nowhere near what you found.

You found detailed notes all about you.

“What the hell,” you mumble, scrolling through the various pictures of you as an infant, with two adult strangers. Hobie said nothing, looking at all the pictures and skimming the important parts of all the files you were pulling up with a frown on his face. You stop on a specific picture of a woman holding you in a hospital bed. She was smiling.

And she was very much alive.

Tears immediately start to well up in your eyes as Hobie gently pulls your hands away from the computer. “Think that’s enough a’ that, love,” he says softly. You yank your arms away from him. “No.” You scroll to the next photo, seeing a man you’ve never met before holding you in the same hospital room, with the same strange woman right next to him. The next time you scroll, it’s a detailed account from Miguel about who you are. Notes from your dad declaring you a ‘danger’ and that you ‘must be contained somehow.’ Talk of your biological parents, their names, and how you had to be separated from them before ‘irreversible damage was done to the multiverse.’

You stare at the screen, and Hobie pulls your hands away again, successfully this time. He steps between you and the screens, blocking your view and slowly walking you backward and away from the files. You’re too shocked to say anything, the only thing you can do is quietly cry. Hobie opens his mouth to say something when Miguel’s voice rings out. “What do the two of you think you’re doing?”

The two of you turn your heads toward Miguel, and his annoyed frown turns to one of concern as soon as he sees the look on your face. “¿Qué tienes, mi corazón?” Miguel asks, his voice much softer as he approaches you. Hobie moves, positioning himself between you and your ‘father,’ and scoffs. “Think you got some explainin’ to do ‘ere, mate,” Hobie says, and Miguel looks at him confused. Then he sees what’s on the screen. A look of horrified realization spreads across his face, and he looks at you. “(Y/n), cariño, I can explain.”

“Don’t call me that,” your voice, albeit shaky, finally comes back to you. Hobie turns his attention to you, squeezing the hand you’ve been holding onto for dear life ever since he pulled you away from the computer. “(Y/n)—”

“Who am I? Who are you to me?”

“…Please, let me—”

“WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE?!” you shout, desperately yearning for your dad to say they weren’t what was said in his reports. But all he does is frown. “They’re… they are your biological parents,” he confesses, and you make a choked noise. Hobie subtly begins turning his watch to his universe, ready to make an escape from your dad at any point. “If you just let me explain—”

“I’m a threat to the multiverse?” you choke out through your tears, “What the fuck does that mean, papá?! If I can even call you that.” Miguel’s jaw clenches. “Don’t forget who raised you.”

“How could I?! How could you?! Is this why you never let me do anything?! Too worried your querido bebecito would destroy the fucking multiverse?!”

“(Y/n). I did it to protect everyone.”

“What about me?! Did you ever plan on telling me?! How is separating me from my family protecting me?!” Hobie places an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer and keeping you shielded by him as Miguel tries to step closer to you. Miguel glares at him, and Hobie glares back. Miguel holds out his hand in a surrendering way. “It was to protect you just as much, if not more, as it was to protect everyone else. If you would just listen—“

“No. No, I’m done listening to you.”

“Cariño—”

“I am not tú cariño. I am not tú corazoón. You are not mi papá,” you say, venom behind your words. You can practically see Miguel’s heart shatter into tiny little pieces.

That was the worst thing you could have ever said to him.

Before he can say anything else, Hobie opens the portal, pulling you through and closing it almost immediately. You find yourself in the familiar atmosphere of his flat. “C’mere, love,” he mumbles, pulling you into his arms. You grip his shirt, sobbing into his chest as he rocks you back and forth, softly shushing you occasionally and rubbing your back. After what feels like hours, but was really maybe a minute, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you bridal style to his bed as you continue to cry into his shirt. He sits down, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head and rubbing up and down your arm. He can’t help but feel guilty for this. If he didn’t convince you to look at the computer…

“Don’t blame yourself, Hobie… please,” you whimper, and he sighs. “Love, you needa stop bein’ so good at knowin’ what i’m thinkin’,” he mumbles, and you look up at him with a soft smile. “Can’t help it. Even your thoughts are loud,” you say, and he snorts. “Chuffed to see the cryin’ made ya feel better,” he says and you shake your head. “I still feel like shit, Hobie,” you whisper, and he frowns. He gently wipes some tears away from your cheeks. “Reckon all ‘at cryin’ has you knackered?” he mumbles, and you nod softly. He lays backwards, maneuvering the two of you to be laying down. The two of you face each other, one of his hands cradling the side of your face while the other soothingly rubs up and down your side. You grip onto his shirt, and he places a soft peck on your nose. “‘m sorry, love,” he says, and you sniffle. “I already told you it isn’t your fault.”

“‘Kay, still feel like it was,” he says, and you sigh. “That’s not important right now,” he mumbles, gently pulling you closer. “What’s important is that I make you feel better.” You look at him, your eyes are still glossy from tears. “Never met someone who looked so stunnin’ when they cry,” he says, gently stroking your cheek. You smile softly, and he does too. “There’s my favorite smile,” he whispers before softly placing his lips on yours. It’s only for a second, but it makes all the pain go away. And you’re grateful for that. Even if it is just for a second. “Get some sleep, love.” He kisses your forehead, tangling his legs with yours and pulling your head into his chest. You relax into him. He was right. The crying was exhausting. Before you know it, you’re asleep as Hobie gently traces shapes into your skin, whispering anything and everything he loves about you to you so softly that if you weren’t really listening, you wouldn’t hear any of it. No one makes you feel protected quite like Hobie does.

And even if it’s just for a moment, thanks to Hobie, you feel like everything will be okay.

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#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #o'hara!reader #dad!miguel #hobie brown #hobie #miguel o'hara #spiderverse

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slut4thebroken · 7 months

Text

Stuck

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Neil Lewis x stepsis!reader

Summary | You get stuck under your bed and your step brother Neil is the only one home to help get you out.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, dubious consent, stepcest?, from behind 😼, bondage technically, humiliation, but like it’s unintentional, Neil is a lil delulu and actually think she wants it…, she kind of does tho…, accidental breeding??, cockwarming i guess, minor wedgie-ing lol, dry humping, grinding, spanking, groping, he’s just a pervert lol, purposefully cheesy, not serious.

Words | 2.4 k

Notes | Yeah… honestly man idek anymore. Also if anyone says this is cringe… I’m just gonna say it’s because it’s /supposed/ to be cringe and not because I wrote it in like less than 3 hours 💀

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

You cursed under your breath and pulled harder, but the fabric wouldn’t budge. All you were trying to do was just reach for something you dropped under the bed. But your sleeve got caught on something and you couldn’t get it out. The fabric wouldn’t tear, it was too tight to just slip over your head, and also you could barely see because of how dark it was under there.

When you heard him call your name from somewhere in the house, you stiffened. Not now. Please not now. Your door swung open and whatever Neil was starting to say immediately got cut off.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked, making you roll your eyes.

“I was trying to grab something but my fucking sleeve got caught and I can’t get it off.” You spat. You were quickly growing frustrated— you just wanted to get out from under there already. “See if you can reach under and help me.” You started pulling again, using your body weight for more force, but it wouldn’t even budge. “Neil!” If he fucking left-

“Calm down. Jeez.”

“Just help me already. I’ve been here for like ten minutes.”

“How am I supposed to fit under your bed?” He scoffed. To be fair, you barely fit under here. But he’s so scrawny there’s no reason that he shouldn’t be able to.

“Figure it out!” You snapped, making him huff.

“I’m going to try pulling you.” He said and you sighed.

“Fuck— fine.” His hands wrapped around your ankles and he pulled, making you wince a little. His grip on your ankles made it hurt when he pulled and your top was digging into you even more. “Stop! Okay just— try something else. That hurts.”

“What hurts?” He released your ankles and you sighed, feeling all of the pressure being released.

“Mostly my ankles.”

“Okay… Here, I’ll try this.” His hands settled on your hips, making you stiffen.

“What are you doing?” You rushed out.

“I’m helping you… Like you literally just yelled at me to do.” He said, sounding annoyed. He didn’t let you get another protest in before tightening his grip and pulling. You slid out a little, making your sleep shorts ride up your legs. He yanked again and you went out a little farther.

“I can’t… I can’t get a good grip like this.” He was all but panting from exertion. “Get up on your knees.”

“What?” You choked out.

“If you want my help then just get on your goddamn knees.” He snapped, making you huff. What if you just stayed here forever? That would be better than being in that humiliating position in front of him. But this was already humiliating enough, so what’s a little more?

You sighed and lifted yourself onto your knees with some difficulty. Once you were steady, he wrapped his arms around your lower stomach and pulled back. The top was still digging into you, but you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to get out from under here. He yanked you again and when he let out a low groan, you stiffened. It could've been from exertion… right? When he pulled you back again, you finally felt it.

“Ew! Gross, Neil— what the hell?” You yelled trying to get out of his grip. You’d rather be stuck under the bed.

“You’re the one…” another pull, this time his hips met you halfway, “who asked for my help.” He panted, doing it again. He only did it once more before holding you still, not letting you crawl forward under the bed as his hips— his fucking hard on— stayed pressed to your ass.

“Let me go right fucking now or I swear to god,”

“You’ll what? Yell for mom and dad? Yeah that’ll be real helpful while they’re out of town.” Fuck… you forgot about that. He held you still with one arm while the other groped your ass, spreading you open so his bulge could grind against your slit. When he finally let go of your body, you tried to scramble under the bed, but he grabbed your shorts and underwear and yanked them up, hard, making you cry out. The friction and the pressure was making your clit feel like it was on fire and you whimpered as you tried to squirm out of his hold.

He pulled you back out of the bed again, then yanked up even more. Your knees were almost off the ground and you could feel tears brimming in your eyes from the pain and humiliation. With most of your ass exposed now, he groped it again, digging his nails into the soft flesh until you winced. He suddenly slapped your ass twice in quick succession and you couldn’t even flinch forward to get away from the sting. He switched his grip and did the same to your other ass cheek, letting out a low groan as you squirmed. He pushed his hips into you again, but since you were higher up now, he was grinding against your cunt instead.

“I bet you’re not even stuck.” He snickered. “Was this all just an excuse to get your step brother to fuck you?” He cooed mockingly.

“You watch too much fucking porn, Neil.” You spat. “Let me go!”

“What kind of a brother would I be if I didn’t help my sister out, hm?” He was grinding on you desperately now, practically humping you while holding you up with a wedgie, and you hated the way it made your clit throb— No. It’s just the pressure from your shorts and underwear… yeah.. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of there. We just gotta loosen you up first.” He released you and pulled back, then you heard the sound of his belt, making you scramble forward again.

“No! Neil— this isn’t funny anymore.” He worked quickly and when his cock was finally free, he grabbed your ankles and used far more force than necessary to pull you back out. He roughly yanked the clothes off your body and put you on your knees again, holding your hips with a bruising grip to keep you from moving. When his cock brushed your slit, you stiffened. “Neil— Neil, wait.” You tried to reach back with your free hand and push him away, but your fingers barely managed to brush against him.

“Shh… Just let me help you.” He said quietly, lining up with your hole. When he pushed in, your hole body tensed up and a strangled whimper escaped you as he moaned loudly. “Oh fuck… Oh my god— You’re so fucking tight and- and hot… Why is it so hot?” He whined. He kept pushing in until his hips were flush with your ass and you groaned uncomfortably at the pressure on your cervix and the sting of the stretch. “Don’t worry, sis. I’m gonna get you out of there.” He moaned, continuing to babble out senseless words through his sounds of pleasure.

He slowly dragged his hips back until only the tip was inside, then slammed back in, making you all but scream at the sudden forcefulness of the thrust. He kept that up for a while, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises, sometimes pulling you back to meet him halfway. He suddenly sped up and you choked on a moan, but quickly bit your lip. You didn’t want to do anything to encourage him.

“Neil, just— just stop, please. I promise I won’t be mad. I won’t tell anyone.” You whined and he landed a hard slap on your ass.

“You can stop playing hard to get now. It’s getting a little old.” What? How the fuck were you playing hard to get?? “I mean… c’mon. I get being coy when you were wiggling your ass in front of me, but I’m already inside you… You can drop the act now.”

“It’s not a fucking act, Neil!” He really does watch too much porn.

“God— just stop whining already. I’m giving you what you wanted.”

“I don’t fucking want this— I want you to stop!” Despite your words, the arousal pooling in your stomach was unmistakable.

“Please, just stop talking.” He whined, long and bratty. “I didn’t exactly picture my first time being spent arguing with you.”

He’s a virgin??

Or… he was a virgin?

You shouldn’t be surprised though. His thrusts were frantic and unpracticed, he wasn’t trying to actually have sex, he was just focusing on pounding something until he finally came, like he probably does when he’s alone. Based on his moans and the way his thrusts turned even more erratic, you knew it wouldn’t be much longer.

He cursed under his breath and groped your ass, keeping his other hand on your hip so you didn’t try to move away again. He slapped you a few times, not as hard as before, and let out a low moan.

“Fuck yeah…” He groaned, dragging the words out. “Can’t believe it actually moves like that.” He chuckled, spanking you again. When he grabbed you again and pulled your ass cheek to the side, he choked on a moan as his hips stuttered.

“Holy shit.” He whimpered. “Fuck— you look so good wrapped around my cock.” He was panting now, getting even closer to his orgasm. “And you’re getting it all wet— oh my god…” He whined. There’s no way that was true…… It would make sense though, based on the way that your clit was basically throbbing by now.

“You like it when your brother fucks you like this?”

“Fuck you.” You muttered, cheeks heating up when he chuckled.

“I like it too, don’t worry. The next time you get yourself ‘stuck’ I’ll help you out again.” He chuckled and you could practically see the smug look on his face. “So fucking good… tight and warm… God I just wanna live in your pussy.” He groaned. You tried not to blush at the praise, but when you did anyway, you told yourself it was out of embarrassment.

“I’m so close.” He said through a breath. “Where do you want it, huh? Should I do a back shot? Or maybe come on this fat fucking ass instead?” He spanked you three times, emphasizing each word.

“Or…” He trailed off, making your stomach churn.

“Neil… No.” You warned, making him whine.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not on birth control and I can’t get knocked up by my fucking brother.” You spat.

“Step brother.” He corrected, making you roll your eyes.

“Pull out. I’m serious.” You said lowly, getting ready to try and squirm away from him again.

“Fuck— fine. Fine. I’ll pull out.” He grumbled, clearly unhappy. You were just glad he actually listened to you.

Your top had ridden up your back a little bit, so he reached under the bed to pull it back down, but kept his grip on it, rather than holding your hips. He bucked into you wildly and you couldn’t hold in the sounds anymore, not with how rough he was being. The top was digging into you painfully in so many places because of how hard he was pulling on it.

“Your ass looks so fucking hot like this.” He groaned. His hips were smacking against you almost violently with each thrust and, no doubt, your ass was bouncing each time. “Next time I’m gonna see your tits.”

There’s not going to be a next time. You wanted to say, but you could barely get any sounds out other than moans.

“C’mon. Almost there…” He was pulling you back by your top on each thrust and you could feel your breasts moving inside the fabric embarrassingly. Wanting this humiliation to be over, you clenched down on his cock and he choked on a moan as his hips stuttered. “Fuck yes… Holy shit.” He breathed, pulling you back even harder.

“I’m coming…” He whined, getting ready to pull out, but your sleeve finally ripped and now that there was no tension, you practically flew back onto his cock, forcing a strangled whimper out of you as his cock pushed in the farthest it had so far. He let out a loud moan and even though you could feel hot come hitting your walls, you still tried to crawl away from him— maybe only a little come would lower your chances of getting knocked up, compared to if he stayed buried in you until he finished. He whined loudly and bent over you a little, wrapping his arms around you so you couldn’t move as his hips jerked, filling you up.

His movements slowed and his sounds stopped, then he was panting, hugging you close and keeping you plugged up so his come wouldn’t drip out. But you need to try and get it out right now— Gravity certainly wasn’t helping your situation either.

“Neil— Neil, let me go. I have to clean this out.” You weren’t sure how much it would do, but you figured doing something would lessen your chance of getting pregnant, rather than doing nothing.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think.” He mumbled, clearly much sleepier than he was a few seconds ago.

“I don’t care.” You hissed. He sighed and shuffled backwards, keeping your ass pinned to his hips. Once you were out from under the bed, he laid down over you, not letting you get up. “Neil!”

“Shh.. In a minute. You’re just so warm and tight… don’t wanna leave yet.” He buried his face in your shoulder, getting comfortable. “You smell good.” He took a deep breath through his nose, making you shudder.

“Okay… You’ve had your fun. Let me go.” You tried to switch tactics— clearly being mean wasn’t doing anything.

“I know I know… Just a little longer.” Was there even a point now though? You’ll have to get a morning after pill either way… so you might as well just stop fighting him.

You sighed and closed your eyes. Of course he’s the type to cuddle after sex. He could at least lay with you though… instead of literally on top of you. He let out a quiet breath and you felt his head shift, then he was reaching out to grab your arm so he could examine the sleeve.

“See? I got you out.” He said proudly, making you roll your eyes with a scoff.

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#neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives

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rougecreator1 · 1 month

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Sooo… I have an idea. Poly!plastics x reader where reader has a concussion caused by some cheerleader things but she is like “I’m okay” and then her girlfriends notice something is wrong with her. (Regina will be really mad at her for hiding her injury). Thank you so much, I love your writing!

Totally Fine ||

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(i myself am poly!)

|| Warnings: Regina being Regina, reader getting concussed, swearing, Regina arguing with reader, brief mention of throwing up, reader in hospital

|| Summary: reader's part of the cheer team, her girls go and support her only to watch reader fall from the pyramid much to their concern. Reader insists she's fine, turns out she's very much not and her girlfriends know it. They take reader to the hospital, with some scolding from Regina.

Requests open!

Started: April 27th

Finished: May 2nd

~~~

When finale bell rung, you started packing your stuff to leave the classroom. Filling your bag with the various books and papers you had from your English course. Once everything was together you headed out of the classroom; going to your locker to put your bag away and grab your cheer clothes. You had after school cheer practice today and you were looking forward to it.

As you walked to the locker room, you took out your phone and texted the group chat you had with your girlfriends.

You: are all of you still coming to watch? 💕

Gretchen was the fastest to respond, she usually was. She'd never leave you on delivered for more than two minutes unless she was genuinely busy with something; even in class she still made time to text you.

Gretchen: ofc!! omg dw we'll be there 🥰

Karen: be wear?

Gretchen: y/n/n cheer practice, kare 😭

Karen: oh yeah! oow 💕💕💕💕

Regina: oow????

Gretchen: on our way 💀

You laughed a little at their conversation, finding it amusing how Gretchen could always translate for Karen. Sometimes you could understand what she meant, other times you would have absolutely no idea what she means.

You send them a quick text back before shutting your phone off.

You: ilyyy all 🫶🫶

Once you arrived in the locker room you got changed and chatted with some of your cheer friends as you guys walked to the field together; laughing and mostly chatting about various rumours.

Ashley, the head cheerleader, got everyone organized and the Captain went over today's routine. Just some simple stuff, practicing the cheer for Friday's football game. It would be the first of the season and you were excited. It wasn't your first year doing cheer, so you knew what to expect. Usually routine, same old chants, ending with the finale pyramid.

You guys spent about twenty minutes going over your routine, by this point your girls were in the field stands watching and cheering you on. Honestly Gretchen and Karen would kill it on the cheer team. Maybe you'd try and convince them to sign up for next year.

"Alright, ladies! Pyramid up!" The Captain shouts, looking directly at you since you were her flyer (the person at the top).

Everyone got into position, you got to the top of the pyramid and struck your pose.

"Hold it!" The Captain says, watching all of you and checking your stances.

You guys were able to hold the pyramid for a good few seconds, until disaster happened. One of the girls who were under you helping keep you up began to tremble. She was new, she wasn't used to this. You braced yourself for what you knew was coming.

There was a longer pause than you had expected, you ended up letting your guard up because of it. Maybe you were fine. Wrong.

The moment you thought that she dropped you and you fell with no time to brace yourself.

Hitting the ground with a thud, the Captain rushed over to you and knelt beside you.

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, you were dizzy. Nauseous. Everything was spinning as you groaned and tried moving onto your side. Pain shot through your body.

"Woah, woah. Easy kid." The captain puts a hand to your shoulder and frowns, watching you with an intense concerned gaze.

You stopped trying to move as your girlfriends rushed to your side.

"Oh my GOD! Are you okay? Are you hurt? How many fingers am I holding up?" Gretchen rambled out, feeling an overwhelming amount of concern as she held up two fingers.

You saw three and stared at her in confusion, trying to keep up with everything she was saying. By now the cheer team had gotten out of the pyramid and were standing a good distance, watching everything play out.

"Three...?" You mumbled, your speech slurred which confused Regina. You sounded like you were drunk but she knew better than to think that, she looked over at the Captain who seemed to be thinking the same thing as her.

Concussion.

Gretchen's eyes widened when you said three instead of two and she looked at Regina," Regina, what do we do?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." You assure her, trying to stand again and push through it.

"You are absolutely not." Regina sighed, narrowing her eyes at you as you tried to push it off like it was nothing. She knew you well enough to know it wasn't nothing.

"Oh yeah? Would someone who wasn't fine be able to do this?" You decided to show off a bit to prove your point. Doing a backhand spring, the only reason you landed right now was because of muscle memory. You nearly threw up as your head spun.

Regina groaned loudly and placed her hands on her hips while Karen clapped and smiled at you. Gretchen looked at you with pure worry.

"Fine! Wanna act like a tough girl? Act like a tough girl, see how tough you feel afterwards." Regina rolled her eyes and dragged the other two back to the bleachers, Gretchen really didn't want to leave your side but let Regina drag her.

Your Captain looked at you with worry," You sure this is a good idea, kid?"

"I'll be fine." You assure her.

Cue yourself eating absolute shit in three... two...

Ten more minutes pass, you do your best to keep up with the routines in your state. You were doing totally fine, until you started seeing spots and your vision went black.

~~~

When your eyes began to slowly open, you felt yourself blinded by hospital lights. Squinting you glanced around you, not moving from where you laid.

You could see Karen and Gretchen sitting beside you, Karen holding your hand and rambling about something to you.

She knew you had been unconscious when she started talking, she just wanted to talk to you in case you could hear her so you didn't feel alone.

You looked around a little more, spotting Regina pacing in front of your hospital bed. Her eyes met yours and you could see her expression shift from concern to anger.

"You're such a fucking idiot!" She shouts, startling you, Gretchen, and Karen.

"Regina!" Gretchen gets up, walking to the blonde in hopes of calming her down. Regina just puts her hand in front of her to stop her.

"I told you you weren't going to be fine! Why didn't you just fucking listen to me?"

You frowned and looked away from her, you had tried to hide how hurt you actually had been because you didn't want them to worry. You didn't want to burden them with you. Turns out, that just made things a whole lot worse.

Gretchen glanced at you and mirrored your frown, she felt bad for you. She hated that Regina was yelling at you for this, couldn't she have at least waited until you were out of the hospital? This was the last thing you needed.

Karen kept her hand holding yours, giving your knuckles soft rubs with her thumb as she tried her best to comfort you in silence. She knew better than to talk over Regina.

Regina narrowed her eyes at you when you looked away, she grabbed your chin and made you look at her again. She pulls you a little closer to her face.

"Never fucking pull this 'I'm fine' bullshit again. You hear me?"

You nodded slowly and she let go of you. As she did, you let out of breath.

"I'm going to talk to the doctor about when you're allowed out of here." With that, Regina walks out the door. Slamming it shut behind her. Making all three of you flinch from the sudden noise.

You shared a look with Gretchen as she returned to where she had been sitting before next to you and Karen. She rests a hand on your leg.

"How do you feel?" Her voice was so much softer than Regina's had been, you appreciated that about Gretchen.

"Like my head was run over by a bus." You mumbled, you had a killer headache. Regina's yelling did nothing to improve it.

"Do you want anything? Water? A snack?" Gretchen asked, frowning when heard your response. Her instinct was to take care of you and that's just what she was going to do.

You slowly nod your head, trying to ignore how that simple movement made your headache worse." Please."

Gretchen gives your leg a soft squeeze then gets up, going out of the room to find a vending machine. She trusted that more than the cafeteria food.

Karen stays with you, keeping her hand in yours as she talks to you about anything and everything. Hoping it distracts you from whatever pain you're going through. You don't have the heart to tell her it's making your headache worse.

"I'm not ready for this math test, like what even is it about? Do I need to know what an adjective is? Because I don't know what an adjective is.." Karen rambles on, you raise an eyebrow at her wondering what the hell adjectives had to do with math.

You just listen to Karen's ramble, occasionally nodding your head and adding in your little bit to the conversation.

~~~

You spent the following couple of weeks recovering, your girls taking care of you. Though mostly Gretchen & Karen. Regina was still pissed at you and wanted to make damn sure you knew that. So, Gretchen and Karen came up with a plan.

They had told Regina they were both busy one night and that they'd need her to keep an eye on you. Make sure you weren't doing anything to make your injury worse than it was. Regina argued, but they pleaded because they didn't want you to be left alone. Regina rolled her eyes and very reluctantly agreed.

She stayed over at your house that night, you spent most of the time in bed. Every now and then Regina would walk into your room.

During one of her last check ins, she noticed that you were asleep. She walked over and rested her hand on yours, watching you with an uncharacteristically soft gaze.

"I know I've been rough on you, but you were a fucking idiot." She was barely talking above a whisper, not wanting to risk you hearing her.

"I still love you. But seriously you're a fucking idiot." Leave it to Regina to not let you forget how much of an idiot you were, even while you were asleep.

#x reader #canon x reader #fanfic #fem reader #wlw fiction #mean girls x reader #mean girls #regina george #regina george x fem!reader #regine george x reader #gretchen x reader #regina x gretchen #karen x gretchen #karen shetty #karen x reader #regina x karen #gretchen wieners

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