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guilty-pleasures21 · 4 months

Note

One idea for part 2 is for Jason to show the reader what a Interrogation really is.

He ties her to the bed and interrogates her to find out why she deceived him. Force her to confess 🗣

Hey, hey! I deviated a little from the suggestion just because I think Jason's more of a 'long, drawn-out, elaborate revenge plan that you never saw coming' type of guy 😏. If you don't like it though, just let me know and I can try another version with the bed instead!

Interrogation practise

I feel like this is now going to turn into a part 3 based on everyone's responses to that little surprise at the end 😬😅. Please enjoy!

Part 1 - the interrogation

Part 2 - the revenge

Part 3 - the roleplay

Warnings: bondage, explicit descriptions of sex including fingering (f receiving), blowjob (f receiving) and penetration (p in v).

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She swung across the rooftops, eager to get home and take a shower before cuddling up on the sofa to watch a movie with her boyfriend. Jason had started running a little cold after, well, literally dying, so she always used that as an excuse to curl up with him under the blankets. She rubbed her arm as she landed on top of GCPD, the appendage still sore from where she’d gotten hit earlier.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” Jason called out to her, his voice low and thick as he landed beside her. “We’re not being chased by anyone.” She sighed, trying to relax, and turned to face him, sliding her hands along his chest appreciatively.

“I know, I just …” Her eyes flickered up to his and she grinned before wrapping him up in a hug. “I just want to go home and cuddle up with you! My cute little boyfriend!”

“What the hell?” Jason chuckled, his hands coming around her waist to gently pry her off of him. He wasn’t ‘cute’ - and most definitely not ‘little’. She shot him a mischievous smile - the one that made his heart start thudding in his chest - and he rolled his eyes before turning her around.

“Why don’t we just … take a moment to enjoy the view?” he suggested, guiding her over to the railing surrounding the rooftop. “It’s such a beautiful night.” He stood behind her as she gazed up at the night sky, his hard chest pressing into her back as she admired the way the stars twinkled in the dark. He was right: it was a beautiful night, with her super hot boyfriend - she should take advantage of the brief respite. She turned back around to face him, to slide her hands up his hard muscles and- She couldn’t move. Why couldn’t she move? Oh. Because he’d frickin’ handcuffed her to the rooftop of the effing GCPD building! What the hell?!

“Jason,” she began slowly, trying to keep her voice steady as she tugged on the handcuffs. What the hell was he trying to accomplish?! “What are you doing?” Jason grinned as he took off his helmet and set it aside.

“I am showing you …” He straightened to remove his jacket, shrugging the sleeves off and draping it over his helmet, “... how a real interrogation works.”

Shit! He couldn’t be serious! Could he? Then again, this was the same guy who’d come up with a whole elaborate revenge plan to get back at the Batman after he’d failed to save him from The Joker. So maybe he really wasn’t joking.

“Jason, this isn’t funny,” she insisted, her heart picking up speed in her chest. “Can’t we just do this at home?” He chuckled at her suggestion.

“You don't usually get to interrogate criminals in a comfortable environment, sweetheart,” he informed her casually. His pupils dilated as he watched himself trace his knife over the smooth dips and curves of her body and he licked his lips hungrily.

“Jason, we’re on a f*cking rooftop!” she hissed at him, trying to keep her voice low enough that no one in their vicinity would come to investigate and find them in such a compromising situation. “In the middle of Gotham frickin’ City! What the hell?!”

She didn’t swear much, his sweet girlfriend, so it was always a bit of a shock to hear the vulgarities drip out of her mouth. It was funny, he thought to himself as he appraised her beautiful little body, how badly he’d fallen in love with her when they were so different from one another. Well, that was probably why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place, he supposed, trying to figure out where he wanted to start tonight. He tucked his knife back into his pocket and began unbuckling her belt, ignoring her frustrated protests as he set it aside. She was just so sweet and innocent and it thrilled him whenever he managed to bring out her naughty side. He gripped her chin in his hand, bringing his mouth close to hers. Then he smirked at her. “I’m just trying to help you, sweetheart. Right?”

She glared up at him, her almond-shaped eyes wide and pretty as her rosy lips twisted into a pout. F*ck, she was beautiful, all spread out for him just like this. He couldn’t wait to torture her.

X fiddled with her handcuffs again, trying to come up with a way to get herself out of this situation - they were on the f*cking rooftop of the f*cking Gotham police station, for f*ck’s sake! What if Gordon walked in on them?! Or worse yet - Bruce?! She bent and rotated her wrists, trying to reach up one of her sleeves to pull out the lock picks she kept stashed there for situations just like this. It was too bad he hadn’t cuffed her hands together - it would have been so much easier for her otherwise. But he probably knew that, given the hundreds of times he’d found her chained up in some uncomfortable position, Damian chasing away anyone who tried to help her until she could pick a lock in her sleep. Jason let her go and pulled his knife back out again, tracing the tip of the blade over the seams in her suit.

“So tell me, darlin’,” he finished, his voice a lazy drawl as he admired her body, so perfectly outlined by her tight little suit, “how long were you planning that little stunt you pulled the other night?” X furrowed her brows, pretending to act confused - even as her lips started to curl at the ends.

“What stunt?” Jason shook his head at the fake note of naivete in her voice. But he had to admit that she was cute when she looked at him like that, curly eyelashes fluttering up at him, pretty lips rounded in confusion.

“Don't play dumb with me, sweetheart,” he warned her, twisting the tip of his knife in the collar of her shirt. “I know you too well for that.” He bent over to press a kiss to her cheek, his knife threatening her against moving as he brushed his lips down her neck.

“I'm not lying, Jace!” she insisted, her voice going up a pitch as she started to get more alarmed. “I just got carried away, that's all!” Maybe if she made herself seem really helpless, he'd feel bad and let her go. And then try to make up for it after. How long would she be able to hold this over his head?

Jason laughed, his breath blowing away the loose strands of hair around her face.

“‘Carried away’?” he repeated incredulously, pressing the tip of his knife harder against the fabric at her collarbone. “Somehow, I'm just not buying that, sweetheart.” He straightened, pulling back from her slightly, a knowing look on his face.

“You may have everyone else fooled, but I know you better than that,” he continued, bending over her again to murmur in her ear. “And you know me. So you know how far I'm ready to take this, sweetheart.” And then he dragged his knife down the centre of her suit, ripping it in half. She gasped, horrified: how the hell was she supposed to get home now? With her breasts flying all over the place?! Ugh! He was so infuriating! She definitely wasn't going to give into him now.

“Jason!” she hissed, curling into herself to try to shield some of her exposed chest. “What the freakin’ hell?! I only thought of the damn idea the day before! When I asked you to help me!”

He pulled his eyes up from where they had been running all over her breasts, her perky little tits so round and soft in front of him. “The day before was just a reminder, sweetheart: you'd already asked me a few days before that.”

He leaned over her, grabbing her wrists and holding them in place by her sides, his hard chest pressing against her soft flesh. His lips were so close to hers, his sparkling green eyes darkening with desire as they trailed over her face. “So you must have been planning it for at least as long.”

His voice was low when he spoke, gruff and throaty, and she felt a shiver run down her spine at the feeling, her body shaking against his as he continued to hold her down. He smirked at her, pleased.

“You're right,” she agreed, making herself look as guilty as possible. “It was when I first asked you, the week before. I just … got so carried away that I forgot. That's all.” Liar. Of course he'd hacked into her social media accounts and found all those salacious fanfiction stories she’d been reading - and about him, no less! Tying up the Red Hood and teasing him until he was begging for you, pleading with you to let him touch and taste you. He'd felt his body heat up as he'd skimmed through the words, his core tightening at the thought of his sweet little girlfriend indulging in such naughty fantasies. About him! But she knew he'd never have agreed to letting her tie him up and torture him like that, so she must have come up with some sort of plan to trick him into giving himself over to her. He huffed at the memory of him pleading with her, his words becoming slurred as she pushed him to the edge of his pleasure and then left him hanging. He was going to get his revenge tonight and, oh, would it be sweet.

“Baby,” he began gently, brushing his lips softly against hers. She sighed at the feeling and tilted her head back, her eyelids fluttering shut as she waited for him to kiss her. “How dumb do you think I am?”

Her eyes flew open again as he straightened and shoved his knife back in his pocket. He sighed as he looked back up at her again, shaking his head with disappointment.

“Has no one ever told you how obvious your tells are?” he informed her, leaning over her again, one hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Honestly, I'm surprised you've managed to keep your identity a secret for this long.”

He flashed her a crooked grin, the one that made her stomach start flipping over and her heart start fluttering like crazy. “Good thing you've got your big, strong boyfriend to protect you, hmm?”

He bent over to brush his lips along her cheek, then nipped at her ear before trailing his mouth down her neck. He was insane, her boyfriend was actually insane. She pulled at her restraints, the metal rattling with her desperate attempts to break free.

“Jason! What the hell!” she scolded him, furious now. She'd probably need someone else to protect her from her big, strong boyfriend at this rate! He nibbled on the soft spot between her neck and her shoulder, then pulled back to admire her, his tongue running across his lips at the sight of her exposed breasts. He bent over to press his lips to them, licking and sucking on them gently, soft moans escaping from his mouth as he played with each of her breasts in turn. Shit, he was good.

“Tell me how long you were planning it,” he mumbled, pulling one of her nipples into his mouth and sucking on it hard before letting it go. She shuddered at the feeling and he straightened to grin at her, his fingers replacing his mouth to continue teasing her already stiff peaks. She bit down on her lip and shook her head, not wanting to reward him for his audacity. He shrugged at her lack of response and lowered his mouth back to her breasts, his tongue circling her nipple slowly before he pulled on it again.

“If that's how you want to play.” She felt his teeth graze her skin as he repeated the words she'd used on him, his lips twisting into a grin at his cleverness. Then he moved his mouth to her neck, his fingers drifting dangerously low down her torso.

“J-Jason …” she breathed, wriggling around and curling her back to stop him from plunging his fingers into her underwear and- Shiiiiiiiiiit. She whimpered as he dragged his long fingers through her folds, stroking and scissoring her in just the way he knew she liked. “Shit, Jay.”

He smirked at her sudden helplessness, her head flopping over as he continued to play with her. She sucked a breath as he circled his fingers around her entrance, coating them in the c*m already dripping out of her, then let out a sigh of relief when he plunged them into her, poking and prodding at her favourite spot.

“Jay,” she whined, looking up at him with her pretty eyes and her lush lips. “Please, baby? I'll do whatever you want. I'll give you … I'll give you everything … you need from me …” Jason gripped her chin in hand, smirking at the glazed look in her eyes as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“Already? I thought I taught you better than that,” he chastised her softly, brushing his thumb along her lips. He curled his fingers against her walls, then pulled them out of her entirely, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean. X let out a frustrated squeak of disappointment at the sudden absence of him, then stomped her foot on the ground as she huffed in irritation.

“Jason Peter Todd!” she exclaimed, glaring at him in a way that was too adorable for him to take seriously. “You … I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna kill you, Jason. I'm gonna …” Her eyes fell to his centre, to the part of him that she wa so desperately craving for right now, her poor little p*ssy throbbing with desire for him.

“I'm gonna f*ck you,” she continued, her body heating up again at the thought. “I'm gonna pin you down and cuff you to your bed and then have sex with you over and over again until I say we're done.” The railing rattled again as she pulled against her handcuffs and Jason grinned at the very thought. He grabbed her chin again and stepped all the way up to her so that she was forced to tilt her head back to look up at him. Then he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’d like to see you try, princess.” He flicked her chin and she gritted her teeth as her head fell forward, her stomach flipping over at the look he’d given her. Ugh! Why did he have to be so unfairly hot?! She twisted her body around, struggling to hide her exposed chest from him, but he grabbed onto her hips and held her in position. He brought his mouth to her neck and nudged her head back so he had more room to brush his lips down her throat. He groaned against her skin and nipped at her collarbone, then got down on his knees before her. She yelped as he pulled her pants down to her ankles. He grinned up at her naughtily and held her gaze as he spread her legs apart. She widened her eyes and shook her head at him, pressing her lips together to muffle the groan that fell from them when he pressed his lips to her folds and licked a line up her centre.

“Hmm,” she whined, keeping her jaw screwed shut as he pressed soft kisses to her folds. Shiiiiit, he was good. He chuckled against her as he pulled her folds into his mouth and dribbled his tongue along her length, and she felt her brain go numb at the feeling.

“... how long you were planning it. What else do you have planned for me?” She barely heard him speak through the haze of pleasure he was drowning her in, his lips and teeth grazing against her clit, his tongue flicking out occasionally to dip into her entrance.

“Huh? What?” she mumbled, hissing at the feeling of his tongue plunging into her and brushing against her walls. He groaned against her, delighting in the taste of her, and she shuddered at the vibrations running through her core. “Shit.” He continued rolling his tongue against her, pushing and stroking her until she was right at the edge, waiting to fall … Then he pulled out of her, snatching her orgasm away from her.

“Ah! Jay!” she whined, the tears starting to build behind her eyes as her body begged her for relief. He stood up and cupped her cheeks in his hands, pouting at her in amusement.

“Aww! Is my little Nightingale upset?” he teased her, using her vigilante name. “You wanted me to make you come, baby? Hmm?” She nodded pleadingly, a desperate look on her face, and he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Then tell me what else you’ve been planning, sweetheart: I know all about your little pastime you’ve been hiding.”

Her eyes widened in alarm at his revelation, her lips parting with a gasp. “W-What … What are you talking about, Jay?”

“Your fanfics, sweetheart,” he elaborated, starting to undo his belt and pants. “What other ideas have they given you?” She gulped, her stomach roiling with nerves at how many of her dirty little secrets he’d discovered: sure, he was her boyfriend, but there were still some things she was entitled to her privacy about.

“Um, I … I …” she trailed off as he pulled his c*ck out of his pants, the tip red and swollen for her already. He tipped her chin up to his, bringing her attention back to his face.

“Eyes up here, princess,” he chuckled, bringing his c*ck to her p*ssy and dragging it along her soaked folds. She let out an extended whimper, her body shaking at the feeling of his tip tracing her clit. He grinned and slipped himself inside of her, then began thrusting himself into her nice and slow, his arms coming around her waist as his head fell against her shoulder. He groaned as he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, his tongue licking a path up her neck until he reached her ear and bit on it. He snickered as she let out another yelp, then moaned against her, his nails dragging along her back as he continued moving his hips against hers. “Mmm, shit, baby.”

She felt so good, her warm and wet walls pulling him in and squeezing him tight. And her breasts? Her soft breasts bouncing against his chest as he pumped himself in and out of her? He pulled back from her slightly so he could see her lovely, round tits, then he bent over to pull them into his mouth, a satisfied moan escaping his throat as he licked and sucked on her.

Oh, god. She couldn’t decide whether to focus on the feeling of his c*ck sliding in and out of her, or his balls pressing up against her ass as he lifted one of her legs to wrap it around his waist, or the way he arched her lower back so he could keep nibbling and sucking on her breasts like he was trying to eat her up. The metal rattled behind her as she writhed and squirmed against him, her bare ass pressing into the railing as he sped up his movements.

“Mmm, X,” he murmured, his teeth grazing her nipple as he grinned around her breast. He gave her a last hard suck, then straightened to look at her, his hips ceasing their thrusts unexpectedly. She panted heavily as she waited for his next question, her p*ssy dripping and pulsing around his c*ck desperately.

He gripped onto the railings, trying to focus his thoughts on anything other than the way her p*ssy was begging for him so sweetly. F*ck, he had to get this over with - he didn’t think he’d be able to hold on any longer, despite all of his bravado and swagger. “Tell me … what other ideas … you picked up from your stories.”

She inhaled a shaky breath, the feeling of his thick c*ck nestled inside of her distracting her from everything else. “Uh, um … There was … this one … roleplay thing … I wanted to try.”

She hung her head as she said it, her pretty eyes peeking up at him nervously from beneath her eyelashes as she waited for his response. F*ck, she was cute. But roleplay?! Shit.

“What kind of roleplay?” he asked her, intrigued. She bit her lip, her fingers curling around the railing as her p*ssy clenched around his c*ck again.

“Um, a Red Hood one?” she replied, her tone uncertain. “Where you … Where you kind of trick me? Into having sex with you while you’re still in your costume?” F*************ck. He had to stop her from reading those filthy stories, his sweet little girlfriend. He didn’t want her to get corrupted like that - that was his job. But shit. A roleplay? Where he took advantage of her while in his costume? F*ck - he wished he’d thought of that.

“You want me to trick you?” he asked her, brushing his lips and tongue along her neck. “You want me to f*ck you in my Red Hood costume? Is that what you want, princess?” He pulled her hips against his and began thrusting himself into her again, faster this time. She nodded dazedly, her head flopping over as the pleasure overwhelmed her.

“B-But … I want … to see your face … Jace,” she forced out, her stomach tightening in preparation for the contractions about to wrack it. “I want to kiss you.” He bit his lip at that, at how much she loved him, his lovely little girlfriend. Then he pressed his lips to hers, sliding his tongue in between them and kissing her hard as she pumped himself in and out of her.

“I’ll kiss you,” he growled in between kisses, holding her tight against him as she shuddered and shook in his arms. “I’ll kiss you … as much as you want me to … princess.” He bit her lip as she came, then lowered his head to her shoulder, groaning at the feeling of her clenching his d*ck. He held on a little longer, just until she was almost done having her pleasure, then he let himself go, releasing his load into her, his warm c*m dripping out of him and coating her walls. He stayed inside of her for a bit, letting her p*ssy keep him warm while he finally uncuffed her so she could wrap her arms around his neck and cling onto him. Then he slid himself out of her and picked up his jacket, wrapping her up in it and pulling her pants back up along the way.

“Now we can go home, sweetheart.” He grinned and lifted her up onto his hips, calling for his bike so he could just drive the both of them home.

“J-Jason …” X called to him softly, her chest still heaving with shallow breaths.

“Yes, princess?” he asked her, pulling out his grappling hook.

“Don't ever do that again,” she mumbled into his neck, thoroughly exhausted. “Or I'll steal all your clothes and make you run around Wayne Manor butt naked.”

He laughed at the thought, but knew she'd hold him to it if she really had to. It was one of the many reasons he'd fallen in love with her, after all.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

#jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood fanfiction #red hood #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc x fem #dc x reader #dc fanfic

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ronearoundblindly · 2 months

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Hi Ro! I know I'm late to this party, but can I get B and F for Steve?

Thank you! 💜

Never too late, darling! This is tumblr, not a job 😁

This one got away with me. It got weirdly sappy for the categories asked, but I went with general Steve from no particular universe here, plus a nondescript part of the timeline or beyond, could even kinda be AU--if you squint--except Steve is definitely famous in some capacity and was small when young. (I just think he happens to look very cuff-able in this gif so we roll with it.)

These dirty asks from this game are aptly titled, so MINORS DNI.

B - Bondage

He can't exactly be tied up, not by anything commercially available, but Steve surprisingly likes the chance to sit still, take a backseat, and enjoy experiencing your enjoyment. He used to be so small. He assumed he'd never have the power he does now.

The restraints, as useless as they are, work as a calming tool to shut off his brain for a while. He's not responsible for anything. That's nice. Very freeing. The act of binding him is in itself roleplay; he's playing small and weak.

He's noticed something else, too.

Over the weeks and months you two have repeated this ritual of tying him up, and you both understand just how much it doesn't remotely hurt him, you've grown...more aggressive with the bonds. It's only when you're tying them--never an ounce of it in anything that follows--but he watches and realizes that you relieve frustration by pulling harder, knotting tighter, heaving around until their just so.

At this point, since Steve can do nothing else, he loves to see it. He's heard short and vague accounts from you, of shitty behavior, of innuendo, of back-handed compliments about how you do so well even with Steve. How his reputation must boost you. How you don't have to work so hard or be good because he'll carry you. How your accomplishments are all tied to him somehow.

It's not true, but they say it. They mean it. Steve can do nothing but let you physically yoke him down in your life, even for a few minutes. The weight it seems to lift from your shoulders is worth any momentary sting he might feel.

No. Steve doesn't mind the bonds at all. He even hates that you can't restrain him for real. He wishes he could give you that. Then people might see that you're just that powerful and you've always been that strong. He had nothing to do with it.

Okay, one sec, let me pull myself together here. YIKES.

F - Food Play

[Fools Rush In Steve a.k.a. Sketch is notoriously anti-crumbs-in-the-bed, so he is 1000% not a part of this convo. Sorry, bub.]

YUP. Steve loves to feed you. It's a care thing. He always wants your opinion of all the food on the table, so you have to try everything. Here! Try this. The fork is already by your lips and he's smiling eagerly.

In the bedroom? Oh yes, he is very fond of licking sweet things off you and having them licked off him. It's one of the things that seems to tickle Steve the most--body and soul--and it's so playful. He even gets to lean into having a fast metabolism and needing calories after his workouts. If he drizzles honey or chocolate syrup on you, or hilariously fizzes too much whipped cream out of the canister he has not gotten the hang of yet, then that's a snack and a half. That's multitasking. That's just good time management, ya know?

Savory stuff is for meals and the table though. There's none of that that gets played with during sex. He's never outright said that's a rule, but it seems obvious when there's never been a crossover event.

Super random shout out to Steve having a bit of a thing for champagne and licking it off your neck after he deliberately splashes or pours it there. The bubbles tickle like hell and the cold is so shocking, but whatever, he loves it.

🙄

Thank you for asking!

Ack, I can feel in my bones that the bondage one might end up as a one shot. I am in so much trouble.

[Main Masterlist; Dirty Asks Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#ro answers #dirty asks #ask game #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you

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cuubism · 1 year

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I have been absolutely loving Bookstore Cryptid Dream! Offline life got rough for a bit there, but this little universe never failed to make my heart happy. Thank you - and I hope you're planning on more!

i've indeed had one in my drafts so i finished it up for you :)

Hob has been waiting with equal parts anticipation and trepidation to find out exactly what ideas Dream will pull from his romance novels. He still hasn't figured out why he picked romance novels as his manuals. Maybe he needs his sex positions to have narratives. Maybe he's into roleplay. God.

But Hob doesn't get to find out.

He's been busy for a few days--new term at the local uni starting up means the cafe's suddenly gotten busier--and while Dream's popped in and out a few times, they haven't had the chance to spend much time together. It's probably good, Hob tries to convince himself. Puts the brakes on things, just a little.

But when he finally gets a break, hands the reins over to his staff for an evening, he heads to The Library. Even if Dream is busy with his own tasks, Hob's content to just sit in his space. Listen to his stories. It's not something the busy cafe environment usually allows, but The Library is like an alternate world, cool, quiet, and timeless.

Hob strides up the steps and opens The Library door.

And there's nothing inside.

It takes several moments for his tired brain to comprehend what he's looking at, and several more for him to decide that no, he's not dreaming. He steps through the doorway into a dim, empty room, old wood-paneled walls and dust gathering in the corners, and no infinite winding paths of shelves like in Dream's bookshop. Just a shell.

Hob presses his palm to the wall. It's cool, and smooth, and very much real. Not some mad hallucination of his, this empty room.

Blinking hard, Hob steps back outside, closes the door again, as if that might change things. Opens it again. Same room. Does it again. Same room. He calls out into the empty bowels of the once-Library: "Dream!"

No answer, of course.

Hob had known that The Library had a sort of magic to it. But just vanishing into thin air...

And Dream wouldn't...

...would he?

Hob spins in place on the stoop, looking out on the darkened street which suddenly feels so much more eerie. He steps down to the road in a daze, looking around as if The Library might suddenly appear in another doorway. Resists the urge to yell Dream's name into the darkness.

And then, well, fuck it. "Dream!" he calls. All that echoes back to him is his own voice.

Hob sits down on the stoop, defeated. If he hadn't seen Dream just yesterday, kissed him on his way out of the cafe not twenty-four hours ago, he really might have started to think he'd hallucinated all of this. Invented someone he'd wanted to know.

But he didn't invent Dream, he swears he didn't--so then where is he?

Hob doesn't sleep much that night. He doesn't do much of anything else, either--it's not like Dream left a note to track him down, or any evidence of his existence. It's not like Hob can put up missing person posters: have you seen this bookshop? Or force it to reappear.

He's having a very sleep-deprived, very over-caffeinated morning shift in the cafe, contemplating how long one's not-quite-human not-quite-boyfriend needs to be not-quite-missing before it's reasonable to start finding out which parts of London harbor demons and sorcerers--when a man he's never seen before stops at the counter, hands folded before him, and says, "Excuse me, but do you know if there's a bookshop around here?"

Hob has never seen anyone else ever go into The Library or even acknowledge its existence, and Hob's anxiety is so high that he almost leaps over the counter to grab this man by the collar and demand, what do you know about Dream?! Fortunately he belays that impulse. This stranger really does look almost laughably harmless and definitely not like a demon or sorcerer, not that Hob's seen one--and getting arrested for assault is not going to help anything.

"I tried the door," continues the stranger, as Hob just keeps staring at him, conflicted, "only, well. It seems to have vanished."

Well, at least Hob's not hallucinating. Not that a disappearing bookstore is helpful to his sanity.

After what was surely a conspicuously long silence, though his visitor just waits patiently, Hob says, "Have... you been there before?" He feels weirdly defensive of The Library, even if it's currently AWOL. He doesn't know if he wants random people to be able to find Dream.

Or maybe that's just jealousy.

"Oh, no, this is my first time coming this way," says the man, apologetically. "I'm just looking for a certain book."

Damn odd timing for it.

Hob comes out from behind the counter and waves him over to a table. He should probably get some tea. Proper hospitality and all. But he's too worked up and way too sleep-deprived.

His guest sits down primly at the table as Hob slouches against the back of his own seat. "Sorry," Hob finally says, "if I'm--" he waves a vague hand. "Dream's had trouble before, that's all." He holds out his hand to his guest. "Hob."

The man shakes his hand. "Hm. A pleasure. I am Aziraphale. To any associate of--" he tastes the name, "Dream's, that is."

It's interesting that The Library's reputation carries further than knowledge of Dream himself, despite how deeply Dream seems to be tied to the shop.

"Is it meant to be there, then?" asks Aziraphale hopefully. "I wouldn't blame him for moving around to protect the collection; I certainly wouldn't want all and sundry picking through the shelves!" He shudders. "Though I was hoping to find that book."

Hob doesn't bother asking what book. Whatever it is, Dream will certainly have it. What's more important is--

"'Moving around?' Do you know how?" And then, realizing if he wants a chance at info he's going to need to offer some of his own, adds, "You just missed him, it's only today that The Library's been... gone."

"Oh, dear," says Aziraphale, now looking troubled.

"Not sure what pointed you towards this place, but if you've heard anything..." Hob continues, "Dream is my--" what is Dream, anyway? They haven't established it, "...friend."

Looking contemplative, Aziraphale says, "Well it is odd timing, now that you mention it, because--"

That's when the door to The Library flies open.

A lanky man comes hurtling down the steps, limbs akimbo, yelling something over his shoulder that Hob can't hear from within the cafe. "Oh dear," says Aziraphale again, with a mix of concern and consternation. "Crowley!"

Dream storms out of the doorway next, expression thunderous, his hair sticking up in all directions like he'd been struck by lightning. That has Hob lurching to his feet, which Aziraphale does as well, and they both rush outside, just in time to hear--

"Look, it's just one silly book, okay?" The unfamiliar man--Crowley, presumably--says, stopping in the middle of the road and turning towards Dream. "Don't overreact."

Dream is, in fact, clutching a singular heavy book, and looks like he's just about to hurl it, except that Dream would never do something so undignified as that, Hob thinks.

Dream hurls the book at Crowley.

Or not.

Crowley catches it against his chest, stumbling back with the weight. "I do not accept," spits Dream, each word the strike of a nail, "surreptitious rummaging in my library."

"Oh come on," says Crowley, tossing the book to Aziraphale, who's just caught up to him and who catches it with a surprised little umph! sound. Crowley makes a shooing sort of go on, run gesture to Aziraphale, which he doesn't heed. "It's not like I was going to burn the place down. You're just prejudiced against demons."

"I am prejudiced against thieves," hisses Dream. Hob finally reaches his side before he can throw another book or something, lays a hand on Dream's arm. Though all he's really thinking is, demons?!

"Crowley," Aziraphale admonishes. "Please tell me you did not." He finally looks at the cover of the book, and gasps. "Crowley."

Crowley shrugs. "You wanted it, he had it."

Hob frowns, confused. "You don't need to steal from The Library. It's not a museum. Just go in and buy it." Not that Hob's ever actually paid for any of Dream's books.

Both Crowley and Aziraphale turn to him. "One could not simply give away such an artifact," says Aziraphale, caressing the book's leatherbound cover.

"Least not for a steep price," says Crowley, which evidently justifies his trying to swipe it. "I won't be beholden to the likes of you." He points at Dream.

Dream looks affronted. "Now who is prejudiced?"

"Let's back up," Hob says, unsure how he became the voice of reason here. He still has a hand wrapped around Dream's arm, it's grounding after the way Dream had just vanished on him. "What happened? Dream-- I tried to come over and you were just gone." The empty room past The Library doorway is going to continue to be nightmare fuel.

Dream makes an apologetic little sound. "I apologize. I closed all access to The Library for its protection. As it turned out, my assessment of the threat was overstated." He glares at Crowley and adds, darkly, "I thought you were from the school board. Breaking in in the dead of night like so."

Hob momentarily gets stuck on the fact that Dream considers the local school board a greater threat than an actual demon from hell.

"Which," Dream continues, "was utterly unnecessary. You could have simply come to The Library as a visitor and sought out what you were looking for. It would have been granted."

"Oh, so I was just supposed to know you actually sell your books?"

"The books will find their rightful recipients," Dream says stiffly.

"Crowley, you have been very rude," says Aziraphale, though he hasn't given up the book, "I think you should apologize."

"Eh," says Crowley, waving this off. Hob supposes it wouldn't really be given to demons to apologize for things. "You apologize if you really want to."

Aziraphale turns to Dream with a sigh. "I am sorry for my companion's behavior. And... grateful for the book."

Dream nods solemnly at him. It seems his ire does not extend to Aziraphale.

Crowley leans back on his heels, closer to Aziraphale. "Mayyybee we should go now."

Aziraphale nods. "Quite." He tips his head at Dream, and then at Hob. "Thank you for your hospitality, Hob."

Then he turns and hurries away, Crowley slinking along beside him. As they leave, Hob hears Aziraphale admonish, "Do you know how few booksellers there are with truly rare volumes? We cannot afford to make such enemies."

"Yeah, you're welcome, angel."

"...Thank you."

Hob shakes his head in bemusement and turns back to Dream. He takes both of Dream's arms in his hands now, holding onto him, looking him over. Unable to fully vanish the lingering panic of The Library just being gone. "Are you alright? I was... worried. When you disappeared."

"I am annoyed," Dream huffs, like it's a greater point of suffering than any actual injury. Then he leans in close to Hob, pressing a hand to his chest. "I apologize. I did not intend to cause you distress. I had to shut the doors rather quickly, but I hoped to resolve the issue before you had cause to visit The Library."

"It's alright, love. I'm just glad you're okay." He kisses Dream, tentative for how new this all still is. Tastes lightning on his lips. Dream hums with pleasure.

When they pull apart, Hob wraps an arm around Dream's back, starts leading him back towards the cafe, or perhaps just to Hob's flat above. Tea solves everything. "So. The school board, eh?"

Dream sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "They are enthusiastic about banning books."

Hob pulls him against his side, kisses his temple. "Dream against the world."

Dream grumbles, but leans his head on Hob's shoulder, and despite the many strange things of today Hob is going to have to internalize, he feels all soft inside at the gesture.

"Don't worry," he says, "next time your many enemies come calling, just yell and I'll create a diversion."

"And be waiting with tea after I've dealt with them?"

"Got it in one."

As they reach the door to the cafe, Dream turns his head to kiss Hob's shoulder. "You are good to me, Hob Gadling."

And Hob will keep being so. Even when the next strange thing happens.

#hob: yep. same shit as always #idk in what type school boards do or don't exist in the uk maybe that's just an american thing #also realized i never named Hob's cafe lol. i guess now it's just called The Cafe. like The Library #fitting for a man who named his tavern The New Inn #bookstore cryptid dream #my writing #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #ask #lunaris1013 #good omens #crowley #aziraphale

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itsabouttimex2 · 1 month

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Feeling evil rn :)

So I'm roleplaying with LSO MK, and currently the Y/N is very injured in their first fight against someone, since they decided to be a sneaky monkie kid and try to train themself somewhere again from MK.

Problem is that Y/N hasn't really be trained at all and doesn't know how to fight or even USE the staff.

And the Monkie Knight is not reacting very well at ALL.

Let’s Start Over:

Battle Scars

You lay weakly across the ground, breathing hard and heavy. Arms roughly scraped against smooth concrete, shins kicked to swollen bruises. Blood from your nose and mouth. Head pounding. Everything hurts.

But you aren’t in any real danger. Not since your mentor’s prompt and almost brutal arrival on the scene.

“…Monkie Knight? How… how did you know I was…?”

Jin- and Yin, even though there was only supposed to be one of them because that was the rumor circulating and you wouldn’t have come out here on your own if you had known it would be both instead of just one-

Jin and Yin both lay limply across the ground, broken limbs strewn sloppily about their prone bodies.

They aren’t dead.

MK wouldn’t kill in front of you. Really, he doesn’t like to kill at all. But especially not in front of his cherished student.

“I told you,” your mentor whispers, clutching your head tight to his chest. “How many times did I tell you, kiddo? How many times did I lecture you about this? We spent hours going over this.”

Your wounds are many, each one a different shape, size, severity. Red and purple paint your skin, bruises and gashes along the length of your limbs and chest.

Nothing fatal, and that was clear at even a casual glance- but it didn’t make your mentor any less worried.

“Idiot,” he murmurs to your ear. That mild insult is the literal harshest word you’ve heard escape his mouth. Maybe you’ve earned it, with a stunt like this. “My little idiot. I can’t trust you at all, can I? You are never going outside without me again.”

MK presses a kiss to your forehead, stroking sweat-stained strands of hair from your eyes. “I shouldn’t have taken my eyes of off you, not even for a moment. I should’ve gotten here sooner. I should’ve protected you,” says a small and guilty voice, as though you had been killed instead of beaten down by two gibbering idiots. “I won’t let you get hurt again, Y/N.”

It’s rare that he calls you by your real name- you’ve been affectionally dubbed Clover, a reference to your position as the fourth bearer of the Ruyi Jingu Bang.

If MK is dropping that moniker, it’s simply more proof of how serious things have gotten.

His arms snake around your body, one hand resting under your thighs, the other supporting your upper back. Another kiss to your bleeding forehead, then he speaks:

“Let’s go home.”

You can’t bring yourself to answer beyond a nod, some level of shame and embarrassment sealing your lips. All you manage is a short nod before settling into his arms for the trek.

Every step forward is near agony, jostled about in spite of how careful MK is trying to be with you. The ground nearest to him is left uneven from the prior fight, broken and crumbled by powerful impacts. You bounce about, feeling all the bruises along you scrape against the torn clothing on you. At your first whimper, the Monkie Knight looks down at you, caught between worry born of anger and a deep pity.

“We’re gonna have words, Y/N, trust me. But I’ll get you patched up first, huh? Just close your eyes and let me get you home.”

Doing as requested, you try to focus on the beat of your mentor’s heart instead of his droning footsteps and the buzzing pain blooming across your skin.

The journey is slow and grueling, but MK reassures you several times both verbally and physically, stopping to adjust his grip on you and taking a moment to praise how well you’ve been doing.

And soon enough you’re home on Flower Fruit Mountain, bundled up under a blanket as MK stomps about the house in search of medical supplies.

“I can’t believe you. I cannot believe you, Clover. Pulling a stunt like this. Hands out. Now.”

You offer them up without hesitation, causing MK to falter with his sternness. “Good,” he praises, taking your left hand between his own.

A golden seal crackles to life on your palm, a severe restriction of powers. “No more staff.”

Then, he takes your right hand, prompting an exact replica of the first glittering power-limiter to sparkle into existence. “No more clones or shape-shifting.”

A final kiss to your forehead prompts a much more ominous seal to blossom across your skin, a bright golden line winding all the around your head, reminiscent of a single-banded crown.

“And no Mystic Monkey form, either.”

Something deep inside you starts to ache, a severance of your true identity forming within. All from a simple fatherly action that is no doubt being performed for “your own good”.

“Hands,” he repeats, grabbing a washcloth and a small water basin. You offer them again, a little slower this time, struggling to accommodate the newfound emptiness in your chest. MK begins to scrub your arms clean with a mild soap and warm water, frowning as he surveys the damage.

“You’re lucky. So, so lucky. If I hadn’t gotten there in time, you would have… they would have…”

A pause. Your mentor takes a deep breath. He pushes a small washcloth into your hands, frowning a little deeper as he rolls up the fabric of your pants.

“Pat your arms dry,” is his simple command. You slowly do as told, feeling as though your arms have been burdened with lead. As you work the wetness from your tattered skin, the Monkie Knight tends to your legs.

When all the wounds have been cleaned and your arms are no longer smothered in water and soap, MK takes them again and starts to apply large bandages to the worst of your wounds.

Each one is glittery, some shade of gold or red, branded with a smiling monkey face in the middle. They had been pricier than any store brand, but your mentor didn’t mind shelling out for the extra quality and cute designs.

The brighter colors and sparkling material made you smile when they caught in the light, and you smiling made him happy. They were an investment that paid themselves back several times over, in his opinion.

Your smile is one of his favorite things, now that he thinks of it. It’s proof that he’s doing well as a mentor, that he’s keeping you healthy and safe.

But looking at your face right now shows only regret and pain- maybe a little bit of emotional hurt alongside the discomfort caused by the struggles of battle.

“…I love you,” he says, hoping to cut the cold tension with a few warm words. “Even when you make bad decisions.”

“…I love you too,” is your delayed answer, causing the Monkie Knight to sigh in relief. Maybe you’re only saying to because he said it first. Or maybe because he’s done so much that you think you owe him that love.

Maybe you were on the verge of saying it yourself, without prompting or reason.

Regardless, MK drops everything to scoop you up in his powerful arms, his muscles straining to give a proper squeeze, pushing every bit of air free from your lungs.

“I won’t ever let you go again,” he says.

You doubt that he’s joking.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere MK #Let’s Start Over #Yandere Mentor

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profounddefendorcrusade-blog · 3 months

Text

I feel bad for Starlo.

Star has a point, idk what the four were ticked off about, there is like 99% chance everyone willingly participated in the trolley problem, based on what we've seen of his behavior thus far it's not like Starlo to be that big of a jerk/drag them by force/yell at them to do it. Ed's words:

he does it because Star asks NICELY

clearly jealous

It genuinely seemed like a fun time/fun roleplay, especially since every day is the same. Like, the five are supposed to be a rowdy and adventures bunch, what exactly did Starlo do wrong, I'm genuinely confused and curious. Except taking a big liking in Clover (his posse should know that this is a big moment for him, according to Blackjack they've known each other since high school and had the same liking for westerns. So they were basically a nerd gang.) Starlo was kind, patient and considerate towards Clover the whole time, even warned Mooch about them not being bandits, taught Clover gun safety, wanted to bring his posse along for a fun time, thanked Ace for telling him about getting Clover a new hat...

Sure, at first he only liked Clover for being a human, but as Ceroba says, that changed and he grew to genuinely care about them, plus I can't help but think Star saw himself in Clover and that's part of the reason he was so proud of them all the time even when they messed up (I'll talk more about this at some point)

What exactly made Ace want to leave the gang? He even said how he doesn't mind "getting run over by the fake train"

he's so nice. says sorry for forgetting the safety goggles even when he was scatterbrained due to his excitement. I love him so much

The only real "faults" (I'll call them temporary faults) I saw in Star during the Wild East section was that he was even more enthusiastic and more proud than usual. But how couldn't he be when he met a member of the species that he has admired for so long because they have real cowboys and sheriffs on the surface (who are seen as brave heroes who deliver justice, while Star canonically feels like a nobody farmer). His posse should have realized Clover wouldn't be there forever and just let their boss enjoy himself with his "deputy who'd have to leave sooner or later anyway"(or be more patient with him/ask him why he feels this strongly towards Clover/if there's a deeper reason for that). His friends including Ceroba just turn their back on him so quickly instead. The moment he's gotten the chance to feel valued for once and put himself first and not have to take care of this whole town and everyone in it and live his dream of meeting a real human, suddenly "his personality is damaged?"

Star's literally built this whole town, organised everything, he worries about everyone, Ceroba (plus was the one to give her emotional strength before and after Clover's sacrifice), Kanako, the monsters, his family, struggles with feelings of worthlessness yet never wipes that smile off his face, always does his best to be hopeful and optimistic and make others laugh, gave his posse a nap time so they don't become exhausted, gave Ceroba a free home, didn't act upon his feelings towards her and was a 110% supportive, caring friend instead. THAT'S who he is. He's the papa bear of this friend group, the glue holding everyone together.

He was just *really* excited. Y'all know he's insecure and just wishes to escape who he is and yet y'all blame him for liking Clover so much. Yeah, the four are very clearly jealous. But why won't the four of you control your feelings for a while? As mentioned, Clover WILL HAVE TO LEAVE EVENTUALLY. They won't be Star's "deputy" forever (the kid who's just as into westerns as he is, who values justice just as much, who also values doing the right thing. Someone he clearly felt understood in the presence of, whom he loved; just look at the way he talks about Clove during Showdown). Star seems genuinely confused of what he did wrong poor guy just wanted to live his fantasy for once and feel important:

Even at the beginning Moray's like "oh no Martlet is upset" Mooch replies "don't be a buzzkill nothing exciting ever happens around here" and Ray's like "Yeah you've got a point"

If you all agreed to have a little fun with a human who will very soon leave forever why is Starlo's enthusiasm such a big problem? If the posse weren't into this after all (unless they were simply too jealous which could have been solved with a honest talk and a little patience) why are you doing this "rowdy" job with Star in the first place? Do you want your boring routine day to day life so much back? Or just for Clover to leave (which they will soon enough)? You, western enthusiasts, literally met a real human, A HUMAN FROM WESTERNS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PASSIONATELY INTO (clearly not as passionate as Star but passionate ENOUGH to understand where he's coming from).

... okay.

#Like idk if I'm being biased because Star is my favorite character but I kinda just started thinking more and more about this and... yeesh.#Felt like a BIT of an overreaction to blame Starlo this much #No wonder he cracked #and unlike with Ceroba we actually see him do his very best to “fix” what he did “wrong”#i feel so much sympathy for this guy man #WAY more than for Ceroba #sorry fox lady #uty #undertale yellow #starlo uty #uty starlo #like dude literally had to come crawling on his hands and knees for them to forgive him #what “loyal” “supportive” friends they all are #sobbing for star #poor poor man #meanwhile everyone forgave ceroba for much much MUCH worse #she didn't need to burst into tears and beg for forgiveness even though she SHOULD have #everyone forgives her immediately on the spot + she gets a hug from clover #I'm sorry Starlo #like how was he “selfish” and “reckless”#he did something for himself for the 1st time in his life #y'all are reckless too btw #you put yourself first ONCE and they call you selfish #Star had the right to be mad at them for attacking Clover for no reason other than jealousy #wdym he's throwing you around for human business you literally wanted this #he watched the tapes more than 50 times bc that's how much he hates himself #and yet he's still been doing EVERYTHING in his power to be there for EVERYBODY

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satancopilotsmytardis · 2 months

Note

20-Fake it until you make it?

But instead of it being faking that you are orgasm, be faking that you’re not having one? 👀 Take that as you will LMAO.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Shigadabi

Content: Porn Star AU, Daddy kink, CNC/Rape roleplay, face-fucking/rough oral sex, cum eating, humiliation, degradation, spanking, hole spanking, forced feminization, multiple orgasms, anal fingering, anal sex, rough sex, facial

If you'd like to read on AO3 you can right here!

Dabi has been a porn star for six years. Ever since he turned eighteen and his father wanted him to go off to school somewhere and stop bringing any further disgrace on the Todoroki name after how much bad press they caught in the wake of the Sekoto Peak incident. Dabi, of course, immediately started to look for the worst thing he could do that wasn't illegal and he had signed himself up to lose his virginity on camera for Japan's premiere queer porn site. 'Dabi' was technically his stage name, but he wasn't hiding anything else plus his burns are so distinctive, and after years of the Todoroki's being in the public eye, he was damn certain that everyone would know exactly who he was. He went to his first shoot, didn't get off, got paid, and waited. It only took a week for the scandal to break and his father was livid, but when he'd threatened to kick him out of the family home, Shoto and Natsuo had shot back that they would be the first ones to head over to the tabloids and tell them he was homophobic, and so his father just had to silently seethe that he had, over the past six years, secured himself as the best switch on the site. He was making more than enough to move out, but he didn't give his father the satisfaction of finding out that he does have an apartment that he stays at every night he's not home.

He's a hot commodity because he's got a pierced dick, a fire quirk perfect for temperature and wax play, and he's 'exotic-looking' for people who want more of a bad boy type. And he's been doing this for six years, and hasn't ever once actually cum on camera. He's not sure if it's because of his burns and fucked up nerves, or because he's too focused on this being a job, or what. But in professional circles, he's made a name for himself because of that too. The plus side is he can stay hard for ages and get his scene partners off as many times as they want him to. He also doesn't have any issues with cock rings, plugs, or chastity cages on him in a scene, and he's gotten absolutely masterful at faking his orgasms. There are already methods employed to make ejaculation look more excessive for the cameras, and he's fine with using those methods on camera. Because the thing is, as soon as he gets off-camera, even if he decides to actually fuck one of his previous scene partners in his free time, he doesn't have an issue orgasming then. He used some of his significant pay to try to see a few different therapists about that, but none of them had a real explanation for it, and given he was constantly getting tested and ensuring his sexual health was perfect with his doctors, and didn't show any other performance issues, he just shrugged it off. He doesn't get off on camera, but he's a perfect performer otherwise, and the directors that will work with him have absolutely made their money back a hundred fold, so they aren't complaining either.

Giran does look like he's going to burst a blood vessel in his forehead as he finds out that Muscular's STI test is out of date and they'll have to reschedule the shoot until tomorrow while he goes and gets tested today. That's really no skin off his nose. He doesn't like doing scenes with Muscular, the guy is just gross in a way that has him just waiting for something to come out about how he's treated his fans, or an ex, or someone else. But Dabi gets paid big, no pun intended, for doing shoots that show off how much of a size queen he can be and Muscular has a quirk that can literally make his dick get bigger while it's inside of him, so they've been paired together for a few shoots. He's just glad that he found this out before he got all into makeup because if he's suddenly got the afternoon free, he's gonna hop over to Natsuo's university and take his little bro out for lunch and to make a nice public scene of the porn star Todoroki corrupting the med student who might actually make something of himself.

They wrap it up for the day and he heads out. His brother is more than happy to go have a bite between classes and his father is furious to see the pictures of him in his sheer shirt and leather pants, wearing a cockring on a necklace, plastered across the front page of every gossip site by that evening.

///

"What the fuck do you mean he's got--" Giran's face goes red and Dabi thinks that he's in serious danger of bursting two veins today. "That's why he was trying to dodge it yesterday? Fuck that. Take him off our actor list. If he starts a fuss, remind him that his failure to show up with a valid test yesterday means that he was in breach of contract and he's lucky I'm not suing his ass." Giran hangs up and does something Dabi hasn't ever seen him do on set, he pulls out his cigs and lights up. "Pack it in. We don't have a second star."

Fuck. He was really looking forward to the paycheck for this one. He'll get paid for the couple of hours he sat around the past two days, but he's not gonna get anywhere near the payout that this shoot was supposed to get him. "You know I'm down for a solo scene." Dabi offers. It's such a waste to have rented the space for this, to have everything set up, and not even use it. "We can switch the script to the 'villains' having dosed me with an aphrodisiac quirk and I can use one of the oversized toys?"

"I appreciate that, Dabi, but the contract was for a two person shoot."

"Magne?" He offers. They don't normally film together, and he doesn't know if she'll want to take on this role as someone who's supposed to be 'assaulting' him, but she's got a big dick and they have worked together before. Though they have more fun drinking and clubbing together than they do working together.

"She's booked up for the next two days. Called her last night when shit seemed suspect with Muscular."

"Shit."

"Shit." Giran agrees.

"Um," They both look up when Iguchi speaks, blushing so hotly that Dabi can see it through his scales.

"Oh? Dude, are you packing something bigger than your boom mic?" He teases lightly. Iguchi has worked sound on every job he's ever taken with Giran and that's been at least fifty over the past couple of years, he's pretty sure joking about what's in his pants isn't going to get him in trouble in this context.

"Er, not me, um, but I have a friend?"

"An actor?"

"Not exactly? He's the owner of La Vénus. He's a professional Dom."

"Shigaraki." Giran says, which is a name Dabi doesn't recognize, but LV is something he does. A very high-end sex club that he has always steered clear of to avoid any possibility of stalking or harassment, or possible contamination. "We can't wait for an amateur to get tested and teach him the ropes."

"He's... not a total amateur? He puts on private parties and hires crews so he and his guests can make their own movies if they want to. He makes sure that everyone, including himself, has a current, clean test before they're let in." He scratches the back of his neck, as if that will hide the blush that has creeped there too. "...He had a party last night, so the test is as current as it can be, unless he found someone else after we'd packed up all our equipment."

"That's something, but we are looking for someone well-endowed. If we just wanted anyone--"

"He's ten inches soft."

"Call him."

///

Iguchi is on the phone for about fifteen minutes before he comes back and assures the group that Shigaraki is on the way. In the hopes that this works, Giran goes to get a fresh contract written up and printed and Dabi starts to get into makeup. He was particularly excited about this shoot because he's supposed to be playing himself. Or more specifically, he's supposed to be the kidnapped kid of a hero who's about to get 'assaulted' so that the kidnappers can leave him broken to be found later. He likes a CNC scene anyway, and one where he was getting fucked by a monster of a cock was definitely appealing to him, even if he wouldn't be getting off to it until he got to watch back the footage on his own. But that means his makeup gets to be a little rougher, and a mascara and eyeliner gets put on that is sure to run when he cries. He had actually used some of the early money to get his tear ducts repaired fully so that he wasn't bleeding on set and freaking people out, and his eyes are way more sensitive now. His siblings tease him for being a crybaby, but the money shot of his big blue eyes all shiny with tears and cum dripping down his face has won him three awards over the years, so he's fine with that.

They're an hour behind their shoot schedule when Shigaraki shows up. Dabi immediately gets out of his chair so that he can see what this guy looks like and he's a little startled to find a man about his height with long stark white hair. His hair hasn't been that color in eight years. He hasn't seen his mother in ten. But he shakes that disjointed melancholy and tries to take in the rest of him. He's wearing a long-sleeved gray sweater and tight black pants that Dabi is really doubting could hide the monster cock they've been promised, and black leather gloves with the middle finger and index finger cut out of the cloth. The long, wavy white hair falls across his face that's a little longer, a little more oval than Dabi's own, with a birthmark to one side of his mouth, a scar splitting his lips on the opposite side, and another going over one of his ruby-red eyes. And there's... a weird scaly-looking cracked-skin texture all over his mouth and around his eyes that immediately sends Dabi's warning bells ringing. Being clean of STIs isn't the only thing he needs to be worried about, and a rash or other skin condition means this is absolutely not happening.

Giran converges on him and Shigaraki shakes his hand. "Nice to see you again, Tomura."

"You as well. I didn't expect it to be like this, I will say."

"Well we're desperate and according to Iguchi you can fill the role?"

"I can try."

They all move over to one of the side areas set up around the rest of the room so that they can discuss the scene, and over the course of the next hour, Dabi finds out that La Vénus has been used as a filming set a few times before, which is how Shigaraki met Giran and Iguchi, and why he's familiar with the general setup even if he's never been an actor on set before. Dabi also learns that the shattered texture is an effect of his apparently, extremely dangerous quirk, that the weird gloves mitigate. They go through the whole contract, what they're looking for in the shots. The plan was only to have two days of filming, one for the bulk of the shots and then a second to do extra material or reshoots if they needed it. Now they only have this location for the rest of the day, and that means they've got to get this done in that amount of time unless Giran can stretch their budget. So after Shigaraki has been fully briefed on how they want things to get set up, what positions, how hard he can go, he gets a glance at the script, but there really isn't much there. The roles were written for him and Muscular, and they've worked together enough that Dabi had more than expected to know what he was in for, but he and Shigaraki do get acquainted as he learns what Dabi's pain threshold is.

They just move off to the side and he bends over, ass up, and lets Shigaraki bring his hand across the backs of his thighs, over his scars so that the camera won't pick up that he's been roughed up before they get rolling. The other man seems vaguely amused, but he's professional enough, clearly used to this kind of thing in his own professional experiences.

"What level are you wanting to stay around?"

"I've got another shoot in a few days, so I'd like to keep it at a five, but you can go up to a seven when the scene calls for it."

"I can do that." And he levels a blow against the backs of his thighs that makes Dabi's skin tingle and sting from the impact, but it's a good thuddy hit instead of stingy and he considers.

"Three."

Shigaraki gives him a few more hits until they're reliably at a five, and one seven so that he knows exactly how high his cap is for this scene. Then they start to get him into makeup and Dabi sits to chat him up for a bit, trying to figure out how to work with him, the same way he normally does when it's his first time filming with someone new.

"Anything I should stay away from while we're going?"

"Hmm, not really, I'm fine with everything in the script. What about you?"

"I like it when my hair gets pulled, and when you're going in for the face fucking thing, go as hard as you can. If a staple doesn't pop out, then it's not hard enough." He wishes he could smoke, but he settles for fiddling with one of the staples on the back of his hand instead. "And I know what the scene is about, but if you can avoid name-dropping Endeavor, I'd appreciate it."

"I can do that."

"Good, ‘cause if you don't and I go soft, then that's on you, newbie."

"What about the--"

"That's fine. I have never once called that bastard that. It's not gonna take me out of the scene." And then he hesitates but mutters, "And you have a nondisclosure agreement that you had to sign before filming with me, did you read the whole thing?"

Shigaraki doesn't blink. "I did," pretty sure he did it while he and Giran were going over what to change on set to do this whole thing in one continuous shot. "Every one of your orgasms is faked? That's surprising."

"You watch my videos?" He deflects, batting his eyelashes.

"More often than I should, is that a problem?"

"No, I worked with a nineteen year old last month who told me I was his sexual awakening."

"So how does that work?"

"You're gonna fuck me through the scenes until you finish, we can take breaks between scenes if you need them, and when we've gotten through the material, at the very end, I'll essentially be cock warming you while our makeup artists fake the final shot with some tubes and some clever angles. Depending on how much you cum, they might also squirt me here and there with a little more of the fake stuff to make it pop on camera."

"Alright."

"You're very chill about all of this."

"I run a sex club, this isn't anything new, though more sterilized than what I usually get up to." Jin comes over to get his measurements for their meager on-set wardrobe and Shigaraki lets him without blinking. "Have you ever been to La Vénus?"

"Not yet, but maybe someday. What's your security like?"

"We have a private entrance and exit for high profile guests, and we can assign someone to act as a bodyguard for you if you're worried about harassment. We've also hosted a few meet-and-greets for other actors if that's something you'd be interested in."

"Really?" Dabi perks up a little at that. Meet-and-greets and cons are great ways of getting some extra cash and keeping his fans happy, but there's only two Adult Entertainment conventions in Japan a year and he hasn't taken off enough internationally to get invited to any other ones. "Sounds like fun."

"I'll give you my card when you have pockets." He teases lightly, and yeah, the robe he's wearing over his black boxer briefs doesn't exactly have any storage.

They chit-chat for another half an hour and Dabi is pleased to note when Shigaraki does get changed into the tight leather pants and the body harness that they have to fit him, he's way more cut under the sweater and definitely has a bulge in his pants that he's looking forward to getting very up-close and personal with. With everything set, Dabi loses the robe and gets on set. The bare mattress on the ground looks absolutely disgusting, and it is actually kind of gross because the fake blood and dirt that got rubbed into it to make it dirty is kind of stiff and scratchy in areas, Dabi tilts his head up to get the last little bits of make-up applied, a bit of fake blood around his hairline and dripping down his forehead like he's been knocked out, then the quirk dampening cuffs are locked in place, and the black bag goes over his head. And Dabi forgets about the cameras.

///

Even footsteps move across the concrete floor towards him and Dabi tenses, reaching for his quirk, and when that doesn't work, he curls in a little tighter on himself, trying to protect himself as the cold air bites against his skin. He doesn't know what this is, where he is, and his voice trembles slightly when he tries to growl,

"People are going to look for me."

It's a man's voice that hums out softly as the footsteps stop in front of him, "Oh I'm sure they will. I'm just not sure that they'll find you." His hair is grabbed through the bag and his head is forced up roughly. The pain spikes out sharply enough across his scalp, and Dabi cries out as he does it, and that only makes the man give a low, cruel laugh. "Your heroes are coming to find you. But not before I make sure they see that you're nothing more than a filthy whore who isn't worth saving." He pulls the bag off of his head and Dabi squints, the light here is still pretty dim and diffused, but it's still more than he could see through the dark fabric. "And maybe, if you're a good enough one, you'll still be breathing by the time they get here."

He whimpers as he looks up at his captor, at how he's already only half-dressed, his cock already stirring as he catches him by the chin to pull his head up. The other man forces him to meet his eyes as his thumb runs across the line of staples in his chin, going up to his lower lip and pulling on it slightly. Just enough to make it part and Dabi squeezes his eyes shut as he trembles. "Don't, please." His voice is small and terrified and his captor is unmoved. "Please, I--I have money, I can make this all go away, no one needs to know--"

The other man laughs and it's even crueler than the one before. "Never heard a whore beg not to be fucked, but I think you're going to change your tune." The grip on his face goes harder and Dabi cries out as he's forced closer, practically falling into his legs with his limbs bound. "Because if you don't put on a good show for me," he hooks a finger under the edge of one of the staples in his cheek and Dabi gasps as pain starts to tingle out from the punctures. "Then I may get bored and find a different way to pass my time." He pulls a bit harder and Dabi cries out,

"Stop! Don't, please! I--I'll be good, sir!" He tries desperately. He pulls a little harder and Dabi tries anything else. He knows what sadists like him like. Knows they want to have him be beneath them, "Master," harder still, the staple is barely in place and he has so many. If he tears them all out-- "Daddy!"

The pressure lessens and the other man looks at him, his eyes shining with his mirth. "He's not going to save you from me."

Dabi can't move enough to rear back from the implication, and he feels sick to his stomach as he tries to pivot from the violence this man so clearly wants an excuse to use against him. But he makes himself speak anyway, leaning into his touch instead of trying to move away the way he so desperately wants to. "Please, Daddy, I'll be good." He tries to flutter his lashes. "Let me make you feel good, Daddy."

The grip loosens a bit and he tries to swallow his nerves as he leans forward until he can run his tongue along the leather of his pants, over the half-hard cock beneath like this is all he wants, and not just a desperate attempt to survive. He licks and sucks at the fabric as he tries to settle the roiling in his gut enough to be able to do this without vomiting. His hands, even cuffed together, can move up his thighs as he brings his mouth to his zipper and catches it between his teeth, pulling it down inch by inch, as he looks up at his captor. He smells the familiar musk of arousal even as the other man catches his chin hard again, making his staples bite deeper into his skin and bringing tears to the corners of his eyes.

"You're going to be a good boy for Daddy, or I'm going to pull out your teeth and then we're going to try this again."

Dabi whimpers, any fleeting thought of trying to hurt him a million miles from his mind now. "I'll be good, Daddy." He promises again.

"Prove it, whore."

He trembles slightly as he undoes his belt and button too, opening his pants completely and... reaching inside to wrap his fingers around him. He's still only half hard as he pulls him free, and he's already huge. Big enough to make his jaw ache, for certain. His cock is thick as well as long, the head flushing, and veins winding beneath the velvet skin of him. It's a big cock, a pretty one too, and if he were anywhere else, if this was any other time, it would make his mouth water. But right now he just feels a little sicker as his own cock starts to stir a bit. He looks up at the white-haired man through his lashes as he presses his lips to his head in a fluttery little kiss, then he really starts to work his mouth the ways he knows feel good. He licks his lips, and presses more kisses around his head and along his shaft as he grows harder and Dabi gets him wetter. He'll need him wet if he wants to get him all the way into his throat without too much discomfort.

His skin tastes clean, and that hot smell of arousal rolls through him like a thunderstorm. One of his favorite things to do in a shoot is give head, and against the haze of fear still trying to settle over his mind, he finds himself slipping into that space. The place where it feels so good to have the weight of a cock on his tongue and stretching open his lips. And oh, does his cock stretch him now. He's so big that Dabi has to pull off a few times, licking his palms and working his hand along his length as he breathes deep and relaxes his jaw a little more. He needs to do more than that, but the next time he opens his mouth, a hard grip is catching him by his hair and yanking him forward. Dabi's jaw is forced wide, the seam through his lower lip tearing and sending another sharp point of pain through him. And his cock is at the back of his mouth so quickly that he's gagging, even though he can normally fight that reflex.

The man above him laughs, and the sound is so cruel that Dabi squeezes his eyes shut against it. "You can't even manage this? Those movies must really fake a lot." He says it like he knows all of the times he's failed to get off during a scene and it fills him with a dizzying humiliation. Humiliation that pulses straight through his veins to his cock, that he knows must be hardening visibly in his thin boxer briefs. He rests his cuffed hands against his thighs and does his best to swallow around the massive intrusion in his mouth, running his tongue along a vein he feels pressing against him in the hope of distracting him. "That's better. Show me what a good fuck you can be from this hole and maybe I'll be nicer when I get to the other one, princess."

Dabi can't help the tears that finally spill over his cheeks as his captor grips his hair harder to hold him in place before he brings his hips back and snaps them forward with enough force that the head of his cock pushes past the tight ring of his throat and into his esophagus without letting him warm up the muscles for the intrusion. It's a sharp agony that steals his breath away, and he doesn't get even a second of reprieve because he's doing it again. He fucks hard into his throat two more times before Dabi manages to follow the brutal rhythm and actually start to swallow around him.

It hurts, and he hates it, and he's certain that he's bleeding from his lip, positive that if he isn't a little more gentle, then his staples will pull. He's not a whore. He's not a girl. But he's achingly hard as he barely manages to breathe. As he's turned into nothing but a hole for this monster to fuck. Drool spills down his chin and stings the split seam, but he doesn't have a chance to swallow. He must look like a mess, blood, and spit, and tears mingling on his face as he's used, as the world ceases to exist beyond the hard fucking his mouth is being used for. And every time he thinks that he can't take any more, that he can't possibly be this big, he fucks him a little harder, a little deeper, and his throat is a little fuller than it ever has been before without someone using a quirk to fill him.

And the sounds of it as it happens. God, the sounds are even more filthy, even more humiliating. Every hard thrust has his balls slapping his sloppy chin, and that crack of skin against skin as he makes the most pathetic gulping and gurgles as he's ruined, is enough that Dabi doesn't think he'll ever be able to shed the shame that comes over him. And he's hard. That keeps coming to him, reminding him with every rough movement that makes him shift where he's kneeling. His body doesn't care that this is wrong, that this is humiliating, that he's disgusted by what's happening to him. His filthy whorish body loves having such a big cock in his mouth. It makes pleasure tingle under his skin as the man's breaths grow rougher, as he growls and groans as his fingers knot hard enough into his hair that his scalp aches.

"That's it, fuck, that's much better. Really can be such a good slut when you're given the right motivation, can't you?" He pushes in harder, but slows down a little. It still hurts, but now he's lingering deep in his throat, and Dabi grows frantic, swallowing around him convulsively in the hopes of getting him out so that he can take a breath. "That's it, baby. Mm, just like that. Fuck, you're so hungry for it, aren't you, princess?"

He doesn't pull back until Dabi's vision is going black around the edges, and even then he keeps his mouth stretched wide as Dabi tries his best to suck in the air he's starving for while his head leaks all over his tongue. His pre is bitter and salty and the taste of him shouldn't make his undergarments get wetter too as he leaks as well. The man pulls all the way out, his head smearing his saliva and beads of pre over his lips as he loosens his grip on his hair and strokes through it instead, forcing him to look up at him again. "You want it so badly, don't you, baby girl?"

Dabi squeezes his eyes shut, fresh tears slipping over his cheeks as he sobs weakly. But then the fingers tighten in his hair again and he opens them again, sucking in a breath to plead, "I want it." His voice is scratchy and weak from how raw his throat is from the abuse. "Please, Daddy, I want it. Your cock is so big, it feels so good fucking my slutty throat. I wanna taste your cum, Daddy, please--" He knows all the things he's supposed to say, they come out of him automatically, and he's grateful they do because his mind feels like it’s a million miles away. He can't tell if he's floating or not, but it doesn't matter if he can just be good for Daddy.

"That's a good girl." A little flicker of pleasure goes through him again at the praise and he opens his mouth wide, relaxing as much as he can. "Such a pretty little whore, so eager to be used even after all that fuss." And Daddy sounds amused as he feeds his cock back into his mouth. He lets him suck and lick at him for a few seconds before he's tightening his grip in his hair. That's all the warning he's given before he's fucking back into his throat, but Dabi puts that warning to good use this time. He's ready to swallow around him now, ready for the roughness that comes and gets more frantic as he tastes more and more pre.

It only takes another few minutes before Daddy is pulling out of his mouth as his balls draw tight and his cum pulses out of him in thick spurts. The first lands across his lips and his open mouth, filling his mouth with the heat and taste of him, but the next splatters his cheek, his chin, and soon his face is dripping with it as he remembers what other people, partners, directors, performers have wanted from him. He opens wide so the other can see his cum on his tongue and then he swallows it, licking his lips and catching all of it there too. He doesn't like how that part is tinged copper with his blood, but it doesn't matter. Daddy is looking at him with hot red eyes, and he's not hurting him. He thinks that means he's being good.

"Thank you, Daddy." He slurs.

"You're welcome, princess. Do you like having Daddy's cum in your mouth?"

He barely manages to nod weakly. The grip on his hair goes tighter again and he pushes his head down. It pulls his neck sharply, and nearly makes him lose his balance and topple face-first into the concrete. He yelps.

"Then you'll enjoy cleaning that up, won't you, baby girl?"

His face burns as he finds that he is looking at a small puddle of the white liquid that had dripped off of his face onto the ground. It's disgusting and Dabi's entire mind twists in revulsion, but his treacherous body doesn't care. His cock is so hard that he's soaking his underwear. He sobs a little harder, but manages a tiny nod.

"Well then?"

Dabi leans down and starts to lick up the little puddle and Daddy laughs at him before he starts to move. He doesn't dare look up to find out where he's going, instead forcing himself to lick at the floor, the rough texture of concrete against his tongue as he eats the pooled cum.

It's not until he feels the thin mattress beneath his knees dip that he realizes exactly where he's moved to and what he's certain is coming next. His suspicions are confirmed when leather clad fingers catch the fabric of his boxer briefs and he tugs them down, exposing him. Dabi starts to lift his head, he wants to beg for the other to stop-- but the air around the room cracks sharply as a preemptive slap comes down over his ass hard enough he cries out instead of speaking.

The handprint is still stinging on his ass as Daddy takes a hold of that cheek as he spreads him open. "Look at that pretty pink pussy, baby girl. Can't even tell how many filthy cocks you've already had inside of you."

He flinches, "I-it's not-- I'm not a girl!" The protest gets him another hard slap, but this one comes down between his cheeks, directly against his hole, and Dabi squeals as the pain shoots through him and makes him sob harder.

"You are whatever I say you are, whore." His voice is a growl laced with menace and Dabi cries harder as he starts to shake so much, sure he's going to be hit again or torn open on his cock.

"I-I'm s-sorry, Daddy," he sobs.

"You will be if you keep misbehaving. Clean up that mess."

He doesn't hesitate this time, licking at the drying cum on the floor like he's starving for it. He's crying hard enough that he must not hear it when the other man tears open a packet of lube. But his fingers are definitely wet with it and so cool when they touch his stinging hole again. Dabi whimpers, the chill of his fingers feeling good against him in spite of himself. He shouldn't like that, it shouldn't feel good when he knows what is coming next, just the way he shouldn't still be so hard from having his throat fucked, but he is. It's a miracle Daddy hasn't noticed yet and even after he's finished cleaning up his cum, Dabi keeps his head down, his teeth biting into his lower lip and making the split worse because those fingers circle and tease his hole. They make him so wet that there's lube rolling down his taint and dripping along his balls like-- like he's got a gushing cunt before he even starts to press the first long finger inside of him.

Dabi sobs instead of moaning, and he thinks that's the best he can hope for. He doesn't know how long he's going to be able to hold out on that because Daddy starts to move his fingers inside of him, around him, stretching him open and making the nerves inside tingle and start to whine with pleasure as he prepares him for his cock. He whimpers, his thighs starting to shake as he's fucked open. His breaths hitch as Daddy murmurs,

"That's it, princess, fuck you're so hot here. All that fire under your skin and yet here you are, helpless and desperate for any scrap of mercy I give you."

He can't find his words before the other crooks his fingers and finds his prostate, and despite everything, he's still so turned on that just the barest touch there has a loud, wanton moan tearing out of his throat. The fingers inside of him stop abruptly and Dabi's whole body goes tight with terror.

The next second the man's other hand is knotting into his hair again and Dabi is being yanked back, pulled further on the mattress, his torso twisted onto his side, and his pelvis at an angle too, one leg pushed up so that hungry red eyes can see his hole and his flushed, leaking cock.

"Naughty little slut," the words are purred with the other man's pleasure. "Look at that, your pretty clit is just as desperate to be fucked as your throat and your pussy." Dabi shakes his head weakly, his insides boiling with his shame at his body being talked about like that, but he doesn't dare to protest verbally. He can't say anything at all when Daddy fucks his fingers back into him roughly, adding a third and stretching him wide.

Moans spill out from his ruined lips as Dabi clutches onto the dirty mattress with his bound hands. He cries harder because he's right. It all feels so good in a way sex hasn't felt for a long, long time. Better than any partner he's been with outside of work, better than his shoot partners for it. It feels good to be degraded and violated by this awful, cruel, handsome man with a cock he's dreamt about having all his life, and Dabi doesn't know how to handle it at all. He just knows he's so sharply overwhelmed that he's terrified that even the cuffs won't keep his quirk at bay and he'll set the bed on fire if Daddy keeps fucking his fingers against his prostate.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

"So desperate for something else in your pretty cunt, princess? Alright, just ask nicely." His fingers pull out of his hole, but it's the other hand that catches his chin and makes him look out towards something else in the room. Dabi can't see far, his eyes blurred with tears and too much light from that direction making the other end of the room seem like a haze. "Tell the heroes how badly you want Daddy's cock in your pussy and you'll get it, baby girl."

He shakes his head again weakly. No, he's not a girl, he's not-- Daddy spanks his hole again and Dabi screams from the pain. "No, no, stop, Daddy, don't--" His protests earn him another hit right there and Dabi sobs as he gushes pre against his stomach.

"Your cunt is getting so puffy, princess." He hums. "Going to hurt even more if I spank you until this skin is the same color as your scars before I fuck you." And he gives him another slap.

Dabi shatters. "Daddy, please! Please, Daddy, please fuck my pussy! Please, I need your cock, Daddy," he sobs. "It felt so good with your fingers inside. Please, I need my cunt full of your cum! M-my clit is so hard, Daddy, please, please, please!"

Daddy groans and pulls him up by his hair again so he can lick the filthy words and the traces of his own cum out of Dabi's mouth as he hooks one of Dabi's legs over his shoulder. He barely has time to surrender to the tongue invading his mouth with a whine before Daddy's cock is rubbing against his puffy, aching pussy. He's cool from the lube and that contrast soothes some of the sting while still making the press of his head as he starts to sink in, feel even more intense than it ever has before. Dabi is sobbing again, this time from how good he feels, as he kisses Daddy back messily. His cock feels even bigger stretching open his pussy and he's moaning and whimpering, his whole body shaking, from his pleasure as he sinks inside.

Daddy pants against his lips, "That's it, baby girl, let me hear how much you like having your pussy raped."

It's a sharp reminder that he shouldn't like it. That he should be scared, that he shouldn't want more. But he does. He wants it as Daddy bottoms out inside of him. He barely gets a chance to catch his breath, to adjust, before Daddy is pulling almost all the way out and then snapping his hips forward again with the same brutality as he fucked his throat with. He moans and screams, his head thrown back as he's fucked, every movement putting such an enormous pleasure beneath his skin he thinks he may burst around it.

His throat is raw by the time he's gasping, "Daddy! Daddy! Please!"

"'Please' what, princess?" Doesn't stop moving so hard into his body even as he speaks. "Good whores ask for what they want. And you want to be Daddy's good whore, don't you?"

He wants it almost as sharply as he wants, "Touch my clit, please, Daddy! Close, please, need you--"

"Oh, my sweet little girl," Dabi mewls because the condescending words are only making him need it more. He's so close. "No."

Dabi whines, fresh tears falling down his cheeks.

"Because good girls can cum just from having Daddy's cock in their tight little pussies." And he's bound and determined to prove that, because the grip against his body tightens as Daddy angles his hips up a little more, pulls back nearly entirely out of is hole, and thrusts back in hard, making sure that the entire length of is cock moves over his prostate as he fucks him so heard Dabi's insides feel like they're being stirred up.

He barely hangs on for two thrusts at that new, perfect angle before he's screaming, "Daddy!", as his balls tighten and his clit kicks hard as his orgasm swells through his skin. He paints his release up his chest, splattering his own chin, and tightens even more around Daddy's cock as every cell in his body hums with pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so pretty when you cum, baby. Did such a good job--" Daddy keeps moving inside of him as Dabi writhes as his pleasure goes sharper and sharper on each subsequent thrust until it trips over the edge into pain and Dabi is whining again. Thankfully, it doesn't take much longer after that for Daddy to drive his cock in deep one more time before Dabi is drenched with his cum all over again.

He is beyond dazed when he realizes that Daddy's pulled out, but there's still something inside of him. Moving around in the mess that is beginning to leak out of his swollen cunt.

"Open your mouth, princess."

Dabi follows the command immediately and the fingers pull out of his pussy and move to his mouth instead, dripping with more of Daddy's cum. He doesn't have to be asked, he latches onto the soiled leather as soon as they touch his lips, sucking on his fingers and licking them clean as Daddy smiles at him softly and strokes his hair.

"You did such a good job, little girl. Such a good girl for Daddy. Showed the entire world how ruined you already are." His head is too full of cotton candy fluff for him to make sense of what he's being told. "Seems like such a waste to kill you now." Daddy's voice lingers for a second and he hums. "I'm sure I can find use for such an obedient whore, so I think I'm going to keep you, princess. Doesn't that sound nice? Don't you want to stay with Daddy?"

Dabi nods weakly with his fingers still in his mouth. Daddy takes them out and he barely slurs, "Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl. Let's get going before the heroes come and find your best performance yet, sweetheart." Daddy picks him up and Dabi curls up against his chest, too exhausted to know anything past how good it feels to be held after something so intense.

///

Dabi is fucking boneless when he sort of starts to come out of it enough to realize that someone's wiping the cum from his face, and has wrapped him in his robe. He blinks as he realizes he's just sort of staring at the cables running across the floor to the lights. The cloth touches the edge of a sore staple and he whimpers softly, that little bit of pain making him wince.

"Sorry," the touch lightens immediately and Dabi looks up to find the voice. Shigaraki tries to be even more gentle as he finishes up. "Here, Giran said you like to have this after you're finished?" He reaches over for the smoothie that he'd brought for the shoot. He hits the button to flip out the straw and brings it to Dabi's lips and he manages to stay coherent enough to take a few sips. The sharp sugary sweetness and coldness of the drink against his tongue has him moaning hazily, taking the cup and trying to get more into his parched throat. "Not too fast, baby." Shigaraki murmurs, stroking his hair softly. Dabi forces himself to slow down.

It still takes about half of the smoothie for him to fully register that other people are moving around. Lighting people, sound people, people breaking down the set because they must have gotten the shots they needed. Shigaraki is still sitting with him, one hand rubbing along his back, and the other tapping at some game on his phone.

"Holy fuck," He croaks.

Before Shigaraki can get a word in, Giran is right in front of him, looking ecstatic. "'Holy fuck'!" He agrees, possibly on the verge of vibrating. "You came! On camera! And the chemistry, you two played off each other perfectly."

Dabi is still a little too hazy to fully match his excitement. But yeah, yeah that was perfect. He can't remember the last time he was able to slip into the headspace of a scene on camera and not have little bubbles of work break through. But even though Shigaraki had mostly stuck to using Muscular's dialogue, he hadn't felt like cringing out of his skin, and the things he's added-- "I think I'm going to keep you, princess. Doesn't that sound nice? Don't you want to stay with Daddy?"-- he hadn't squirmed to try and get to a better angle for the cameras, hadn't given a thought to if his makeup was running the way it was supposed to or not. He had just been in the scene like this was for fun and not for work and he'd cum on camera.

"Did we get the shots?" He's pretty sure they must have, or Giran would definitely look more stressed out than happy.

"We got everything, kid. And you," He rounds on Shigaraki who's hand falls away from Dabi's back. "You should let me get you an agent. Once this debut airs, you're going to be in high demand."

Shigaraki looks amused, "I don't think I'll have time to do this professionally, but I'm glad that my performance was satisfactory."

"'Satisfactory'," Giran sounds disbelieving as he shakes his head. "Fucking Christ, you have no idea." He really doesn't. It's a good thing that he's already got a sex club, and Dabi wonders how many more people will be looking to contract him as their dom once this goes live. "Dabi, you good?"

He gives a weak thumbs up. "Ibuprofen?"

"I'll check with Mai." He goes away and Shigaraki gives him his full attention.

"Was anything too much?"

"You made me cum on camera, I literally don't think that you could have done any better, Shigaraki."

That gets the other man giving him a small, bemused smile. "You put on quite a show as well. I may be biased, but I think that might have been your best performance."

He's absolutely biased, but he's also right, and Dabi hasn't even seen the tape yet. "Best one I've ever put on in public, definitely." He hints very lightly as he takes another sip of his smoothie. Oh, he absolutely needs a real shower when he gets home and then he's gonna order a million things to eat before he soaks in the tub until it all arrives. Is that aftercare as good as when he has someone else seeing to his needs after an intense scene? No, but he knows how to make due after all this time.

Shigaraki reaches into his jacket pocket and Dabi realizes that he's dressed already. "I have to get back to V to start getting things set up for tonight," He explains. But he takes out a card and a pen and scrawls something across the back. "If you decide that you want to put on a meet-and-greet or another live event, you can reach me at the number on the front." He hands over the matte charcoal gray card embossed with red foil that has his name, number and email on the front. Dabi flips it over to the back and finds that he's written another number on the back in red ink.

"And this one?"

"My personal line, if you ever want to have a more private party or dinner sometime?"

Dabi hums. He gets asked out a lot, he gets propositioned a thousand times more often than that. He knows how to play it cool. Shigaraki doesn't need to know that he's committing the digits to memory. "I'll keep that in mind," he says lazily. "Thanks for your work today, Shigaraki."

"You can use my first name, Dabi."

"Tomura," he corrects, and pretends he doesn't like how that tastes on his tongue. It earns him one of those slow, approving smiles that makes Dabi want to get right back on his knees for him even though his lips are so sore already.

"I hope I hear from you soon." And that's all he leaves him with. Dabi watches him head out, stopping to exchange a few words with a blushing Iguchi and a slightly manic Giran before he's leaving the set. Mai brings him the pain meds he'd asked for and he finishes his smoothie before he gets dressed and he arranges his ride.

If he puts Tomura's personal number into his phone while he waits, then that's not anyone else's business but his own.

#ask #asks #shigadabi #my writing #mha fanfiction #fanfiction #101 kink prompts #prompt response #prompt fill #shigaraki tomura smut #dabi smut

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everlastingremorse-blog · 4 months

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The Rat Grinders are Minmaxers

I’ve been thinking through a lot of the discourse surrounding the bad kids and their immediate dislike of the Rat Grinders, and how it’s not fair and all that stuff.

And that is important to consider, but it took me awhile to realize how un-fun it would be to play in a group of rat grinders.

Like Brennan said in an earlier adventuring party (and I am paraphrasing), “this year we get to see what it’s like when being an adventurer means going on adventures.”

Like, in earlier seasons, Aguefort would go on some long tangent about how adventuring is enacting violence in order to change the world.

Not that I completely agree with that assertion, but it’s also true that there is a narrative in DND, thus there are narrative arcs. Going on an adventure in DND means having personal arcs exploring how your character’s motivations are changing and interacting with the world. One of my favorite parts of Dungeons and Drag Queens was seeing these new players get really invested in their characters.

And then there are minmaxers. Now if you don’t know, Minmaxers are players that really optimize their character to game the system. Think Evan Kelmp. He’s set up in a way to prioritize fighting over anything else.

Now Kelmp is a bit of an exception, as most Minmaxers tend to (at least from what I’ve seen) avoid roleplay, while Brennan made Kelmp explicitly for roleplay. In other words, Minmaxers don’t make good stories.

And I think that’s for two reasons:

1. If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. Having a character built to fight (and that’s how most Minmaxed DND characters are built, according to me) means you’re going to use fighting as a solution. Why try to convince someone when your dumb stat is charisma and you could probably kill them easily if you tried. Murder hobos are bad for stories.

2. It’s impressive, the first time. Don’t get me wrong, Minmaxers show a strong mastery of the system they’re working in. Just like the rat grinders. They’ve gotten to a real high level by (in my opinion) a flaw in the system, and it’s a fun loophole… the first time I saw it. If there is no story (no quest that you’re going on) then it’s going to just be boring grinding. It’s like looking at a painting in a museum. You can look at it. Examine it. Think about it like a painter, and then like an art critic. Read some analysis of the work, but eventually I want to move on. I might come back later, but I’ll hit a limit on what I can do. I can be impressed by the mastery of the system, now what? Now they go back to grinding rats.

And that’s why I dislike the rat grinders. They are adventures, but they don’t go on adventures. They just gamed the system. They followed the rules without following their spirit. And I’d hate to play a game with players like that.

But hey, things are looking up. Obviously, the rat grinders have a lot going on that we just don’t know yet. There is a story there, and I can’t wait to see it.

Also they have a really hot drago———

*sounds of muffled horny screams as I’m dragged off into the distance.*

#dimension 20 #rat grinders #dropout #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #d20 fhjy #oisin hakinvar #my beloved

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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AITA for decrying my close friend letting an e-boy close to her when it's caused problems before? a friend of mine (25) who i've known for 8+ years is a roleplayer (+ERP) in a videogame and i (27) have watched a couple of dudes now meet them and catch feelings for them through these roleplays and instantly become obsessive creeps. [ for the record, i used to roleplay as well but stopped because of similar situations. so i'm not a stranger to roleplay or anything. I am also aware of the "it's in character so it doesn't matter" "it's in-game so it doesn't matter" mindsets but these events are creating real emotional / sexual connections between the people so it's growing beyond being just "in-game" ] recently they broke connection with someone over this, but it took them weeks of debate to do it, and they were dealing with the falloff for a while. it really hurt them! [for additional context, it's happened before that these people have talked such sweet nothings to her that she's gotten feelings back and would send sexual images and videos to these people, just for them to instantly 180 and start being sleazeballs] she recently started roleplaying again and already another dude is in her dms telling her he has a crush on her, and all these sweet nothings etc. i went out and met the guy because we played together and not only is he frequently seen hitting on other girls (also has a stripper pole in his in-game bedroom??) in-call he was extremely objectifying. bragging about all the people he's been with, talking about wanting "goth mommy" (which my friend is extremely outspoken about despising), he would ONLY talk about sexual shit, and anytime anyone said anything he would make a sexual comment, etc. red flag city. when i told her about it she said she had no idea and that they talked it out, but it sounded a lot like they just passed over the problems. not even a week later now and they're getting in-game married (big social event, costs a good bit of money) and i'm not attending because i won't support it. she's upset about this and we're at odds because to her it's "just roleplay" despite the real money being spent, and the people who have come before who had done the same things nearly 1:1 and created massive problems. i even found an old DM from her complaining about a friend of hers who had done the same thing (guy had feelings for her, in a week he was into someone else and getting married) the outcome of all of this is me feeling like i'm an asshole for not just ignoring the red flags and wishing her well. i'm conflicted because i don't want to just let her hurt herself but i also don't want to be like controlling or mean AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #is this ffxiv by any chance? it feels like ffxiv or at least a similar mmo #if so: getting married in-game to someone who is not your irl partner for rp reasons is extremely extremely normal #it's easily negated and there are free options that just have less bells and whistles (if my hunch that this is ffxiv is correct)

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pedge-stuff · 10 months

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God I just thought about an idea for pedro and reader, reading your last post...

They are in a relationship and live together. The reader is also an actress. She asks pedro to practice her lines with her. In the play, she is having a really long line, breaking up with the person ans leaving them... pedro can't continue... at night in bed they are cuddling and pedro talks about how he hated the feeling or the thought of the reader ever leaving

(changed this slightly, hope that is OK...)

bad acting (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

(also I did that thing where I didn't save this on drafts fast enough and the whole fucking thing deleted so you could say im LIVID sorry if this rewrite felt rushed.)

summary: things get a little... too real.

—————————————————————————

"You can't laugh."

"I'm not gonna laugh!"

Pedro hands you his iPad, script loaded on the screen. "I'm serious," you warn him, "you had to stop last time, the acting was so bad."

"Just read the sides, baby."

You know he isn't nervous about the audition— if he was, he sure as shit wouldn't be practicing with you. Those rehearsals are reserved for his coach, or someone who can actually talk him through the scene. This was just a formality, a quick read-through for some anthological TV show about people in failing marriages. Season 2 of Oscar's old Amazon thing. With the audition being on Zoom tomorrow, the whole process feels fairly relaxed.

"Should I read it in a lady voice? Will that set the scene?"

"Please don't."

"Scottish accent?"

"Babe."

"Hmm." You clear your throat loudly, for dramatic effect. Across the room, feet propped on the desk, Pedro rolls his eyes. He's got his cheaters on, but no script— the audition's supposed to be off-book. "From the first page?"

"You're stalling."

"Ugh. Ok. Here we go." Leaning forward, you scroll to the highlighted text on the iPad. "Stop, David. You don't know what you're talking about."

Pedro's posture straightens; ever the professional, it's like watching a switch flip. The humored lines beside his eyes, little crows feet that crinkle when he looks at you, disappear completely. His brow furrows, gaze darkens.

"Of course I do, dammit. I'm done with this, all of this. It's like living in a mausoleum, Emma. I'd rather. Do you remember what love even feels like? Because I look at you, and I just... don't, anymore."

"You don't mean that."

"I do! I'm so tired of this. Life with you is joyless. Every day, I come home from work and just sit in the goddamn driveway because I don't want to come in the house. It's hard to be in the same room as you. I can't bring her back, Emma, and I miss her and I'm sorry she's dead. But it isn't my fucking fault and I wish you'd stop pretending it was."

His voice cracks, just a little. You frown as he grabs the glass of water beside him, pausing to wait, but he motions for you to continue.

"That's cruel," you read, "and you know it. That's not fair."

"None of this is fair!" Pedro exclaims. "That's the whole point. It's not fair that our daughter is dead while the girl who was driving got to walk away clean. Life isn't fucking fair. But it's life. And you've sucked all the light out of mine. I can't stand you, anymore, I'm sorry. I just can't. It's not that we can't make it work, it's that I don't want to make it work. If I never see you again, it'll be too soon. Jesus christ, I hate every part of this."

"Are you done? Have you gotten it all off your chest?"

"Don't placate me! This isn't one of your stupid therapy sessions, Emma, you can't fix this with a breathing worksheet and a roleplaying exercise. Be fucking serious. Every day I wake up and I wish I'd never met you. At least then, she wouldn't be dead, because she'd never have existed. And maybe I'd known some goddamn peace."

The page ends there, and you glance up. Pedro has his head in his hands, eyes closed.

"That was good," you offer tentatively, searching for some kind of sign as to what his next move is. He's gracious about work stuff, but you're always a little afraid of mucking up his process.

When he looks up, his eyes are glossy. "Yeah," Pedro says, croakily, clearing his throat quietly before rising from the chair. He takes the iPad back, wordlessly, shuttering the case over the screen.

"Wanna do it again? You were spot-on, Pedge, but we can go over it again if you want to."

"No," he says quickly. "No, I'm good. I'm fine. It's on Zoom, it'll be easy. I'm fine."

Weird. Just a little. Before you can dwell on his sudden cageyness, he's up, headed for the door.

"I'm gonna walk the dogs. We can catch up on Bake-Off, when I get back?"

Pedro leaves before you can answer.

— — —

No sooner have the leashes been hung back by the door, than Pedro is beside you on the couch, all hands and light touches. It's as if he can't bear to lost contact. You allow him to reposition you, reaching a hand around your waist as you reach for the remote.

"Good walk?"

He hums, tugging you against him. Settles, finally, once you're half-reclined, back against his chest, arm around your middle. You fiddle with the edge of his sleeve as the bakers fumble their way through the signature challenge.

It's not that the clinginess bothers you— he's like this sometimes, when he's just returned home, or you've arrived in LA, or met somewhere in the middle. Every separation leaves him want for touch. It's the one thing you can't give him, while you're apart.

But he's been home a couple weeks now, in between reshoots for a new project. Been home all day, in fact, in an orbit around you while you attempted to work from home. (A little too close, frankly, but you can't really complain.)

"You okay?" You whisper, as the timer runs down on the technical bake.

No answer. Just a tightened grip on your waist, and a firm kiss to the top of your head.

— — —

It isn't until later, in bed and half-asleep, that you pinpoint the source of the tension.

You'd have thought he was already asleep, save for the soft carding of his fingers through the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. Deep, even breaths tickle your forehead; he's curled around you, arm draped over your back. Had positioned himself this way silently, looking a little silly brooding in his Muppet-patterned pj pants.

"We're never reading lines again," Pedro whispers into the darkness.

"Was the acting that bad?"

Your attempt for levity falls flat. He is quiet, long enough for you roll backwards slightly, to get a better look at his face. A deep-set frown has taken root.

"No, it..." He tugs you closer again, tucking your head beneath his chin. If he weren't so sad, you'd call uncle for claustrophobia; your nose is squished into his jugular. But you lay still, waiting for him to continue.

"It felt too real," Pedro concedes. He inhales sharply, and you can feel it against your own chest.

The kiss you press to the hollow of his throat, doesn't feel good enough. You wiggle, tilting your head to press one against his toothpaste-tasting lips. Whiskers tickle the corner of your mouth.

"Baby, I know you were... pretending." A thin line between placating him and treading on his professionalism. "If our pretend daughter died in a car crash, I know you wouldn't divorce me for being too sad."

"It's not funny." With a groan, he kisses you again, resting his forehead against yours. "I hated saying that stuff to you. Felt too real."

The bone-crushing spooning is making a little more sense, now.

"I love you, but you're a sap."

"Hmph."

You smile into the next kiss. "A very sweet sap, though."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #din djarin #joel miller #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x male reader #joel miller x male reader #the mandolorian

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firesnap · 6 months

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Missing Wilbur doing roleplay content hours.

I miss fucking Rust man. I wish we'd gotten more of that. He had a whole script, one that he STILL won't share to this day, and it was going to deal with brotherhood and religious trauma and cults and believing too much the con and a post-apocalypse wasteland. Imagine what we lost. Imagine what we could have had with Wilbur fraying at the seem trying to keep this ragtag cult/family he's forced together -- one he forced together solely to keep him and his brother safe -- and his brother didn't care about having a hundred resources he just wanted to roam the wasteland with Wilbur and play guitar and ransack people's homes. Then Wilbur slowly starting to believe the cult that he started and hey, maybe he does have some weird connection to this Dome thing and he's some chosen one meant to lead people (even though maybe he's not GREAT at leading people) and why else would things be so much better now? And his brother just sitting by going "you know this isn't real. this is something we made. i don't want this, no matter how good it is, if it means losing some part of you to it." AND AGGGHHH

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bbybaku · 1 year

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Forgive me followers I forgot I had this gem in my drafts.

This is a GOOD one

husband shig and some bonkers role play

warnings (bear with me): lowkey dark content but it will make sense when you read it, husband shig, implied kids, roleplay, alcohol. drugged drink, sir kink, oral (male recieving), begging, dirty talk, vaginal sex, cream pie, breeding kink, baiting, f reader

2.3k words

also sorry this one is a little long but prob one of my new favorites

enjoy ;)

your husband, tomura, had taken a 4 day weekend off from his desk job and your 2 kids were at their grandparents for the entire weekend.

the two of you decided to live out a fantasy, roleplay if you will, you had been talking about for a while.

to go to a bar and pretend to be strangers.

and go home together, of course.

and have back breaking kinky sex, of course.

the first night of the long weekend consisted of you getting a hotel room and leaving before tomura got home from work.

the plan consisted of you two just so happening to be at an upscale club downtown at the same time. and tomura made a rule of no talking about anything real. you had to pretend not to know eachother.

you sat and waited in the hotel room for what felt like hours, you were so excited you couldnt see straight. you brought that dress he loved and did your makeup in a dark and mysterious way.

it was almost time to leave and your hands were shaking with excitement, right before you left you remembered to take off your wedding ring, you planned on leaving it in the room but you just couldnt bring yourself to do it. you put the band in your purse.

you loved tomura too much to live without the ring.

you showed up 15 minutes after. fashionably late.

you walked in alone and were immeaditly approached by a man wanting to dance, you talked sweetly and flirted while you turned him down, scanning the dark crowded room for him.

there.

in the back corner of the room. agitated. watching you.

you knew him well enough to know your previous interaction had shigaraki’s blood boiling.

his hair normally slicked back or put up hair was messy and in his face, he was wearing slacks and a button down, the top few unbuttoned. He was wearing vans and a jacket unzipped. he looked irritated. he was slouching with one hand in his pocket and the other hand holding a brown drink.

you made brief eye contact. you wanted to stir the pot a little more before approaching your husband.

you looked away first, checking your phone and making your way to the bar.

and it was pretty easy to get under his skin.

you didnt have to look to see he had just gotten up and was walking over to you.

you waited at the bar for a bartender.

a man stood next to you and offered to buy you a drink. you accepted the drink but declined the strangers advances.

you took the drink and turned around. finding shigaraki sitting at a both alone. not just looking at you but staring into you.

you sat across from him in the booth. lighting touching his hand that was resting on the table as you slid in.

“hi” you said sweetly

“hey” he said with his head slightly lifted, his eyes looking down at you through his pale hair.

“whats your name?” you couldnt stop yourself form giving him a small smile.

“shigaraki. my friends call me shiggy”

it was funny to you because you two shared his last name, being married and all.

“im y/l/n”

he smirked “and what do you do, y/l/n?”

you matched his energy “oh you know boring stuff.” you took a long sip of your drink, refusing to break eye contact. “what about you?”

he scoffed a little. that way he was so good at being annoyed. “oh you know boring stuff” a pause “can i buy you a drink?”

“sure i would love another one”

you knew he wanted to skip this part. you knew his balls were aching and that he was beyond ready to be balls deep inside of you.

you finished your first drink while he was at the bar. you could feel the warmth of the alcohol in your face and between your legs.

he came back with a small cup of alcohol and juice. he handed it to you and sat down next to you.

“thanks”

he put a hand on your thigh and whipsered “oh dont thank me yet”

within seconds of sipping on the drink he brought you you could feel yourself getting tired. the room was getting hazy and something was off.

this wasnt part of the plan. you looked up at your husband as the room stopped making sense. he winked as he caught your body.

you woke up in a massive bed. in a huge studio apartment with windows overlooking downtown.

this was not the plan at all.

it was still night time so you couldnt have slept that long.

“you didnt feel well so i brought you back to my apartment.”

tomura was really getting into it.

you were intriuged and your sex was pulsating.

he stood over you on the bed, jacket off. He looked tired, like he had just carried an unconscious woman back to a secret apartment.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. body language expressing his frustration.

“i also needed to remind you of something”

tomura said as he crawled over to you on the bed.

you stayed where you were sitting as he nuzzled into you.

“you belong to me” he whispered then grabbed you by the upper arm and threw you face down on the bed.

he had taken your shoes off but you were still wearing the dress from earlier. and your wedding ring was back on your finger.

“ass up” he said as he hiked you dress up and grabbed a handful of your hair.

you expect him to rip your panties off but he didn’t, he pulled them up, and slapped your ass. hard.

“count”

“tomur- “

“wrong” he said as he slapped the same place as earlier but a lot harder.

“one”

“don’t think i didn’t see you whoring yourself around in that bar”

“t-two”

“you are mine and all mine”

“three”

he used your hair as leverage.

“four”

“to think”

“five”

he grabbed the other side of your ass and played with it before slapping it.

“six”

“that my darling”

“seven”

“would forget who she belongs to?”

“eight”

he leaned over your body

“nine”

tomura licked up your neck then kissed your jaw.

“ten”

tomura let go of your hair and pulled your dress over your head and discarded it on the ground next to the bed.

“and what do you say?”

you gulped. “tomura-“

he lifted your head by your hair and leaned really close to you.

“what did you call me?” you could feel his irritation.

“thank you sir” you said quietly and looking down.

“thats what i thought” he scoffed.

he unclipped your bra in one swift motion and pushed you back down onto the bed.

once again you expected him to take your underwear off but he didn’t.

tomura snaked between your legs.

“do i have your permission, darling?” he asked

you nodded but he motioned like he couldnt hear you.

“what was that? im sorry I cant hear you.”

“yes, yes you have my permission” you were babbling.

“your permission to do what darling?”

“im -um. fuck me?”

he slapped your ass “watch your profanity” he leaned closer to your ear and whispered “youre going to have to beg a little more than that and you know it.”

your sex was pulsating and you craved your husband.

you wanted him more than you had ever wanted anything.

he lifted your thighs so his arms were under them but resting on your hips.

“please to-” you stopped yourself. he glanced you looking displeased.

“please sir please touch me ill do anything” you corrected yourself.

he grunted as he got up.

“anything?” he questioned.

you were beginning to understand why you were still wearing your underwear.

“will you sit on the floor and suck on my big cock?”

you grinned, “make me”

tomura turned around slowly.

“do you want to say that again?”

your smile grew bigger. “you heard me tomura, i said make me,”

before you could blink your wrists were bound by his belt behind your back and you were on your knees staring at his beautiful and very hard cock.

he was leaking precum and you didnt have to be told twice to lick it up but that wasnt on the menu at that moment.

you held out, being stuborn and bratty, waiting for him to make the first move.

and he did.

tomura slapped you in the face “suck on it, slut”

you closed your eyes, licked up his shaft, and took the tip in your mouth.

you bobbed your head up and went further down with each bob, he was longer than he looked.

if your hands werent bound you would spit in your palm when you came up for air and start pumping his base, but that wasnt an option.

each time you came back up you would give special attention to the tip, just as he liked it.

at first tomura sat on the bed and leaned back as you went up and down and up and down his shaft.

between whimpers tomura said “its nice to see my whore wife finally remember who she belongs to.”

he had one hand in your hair directing you and the other to lean back on the bed.

you used teeth after his comment.

he pulled your head back and sat up, using his free hand to hold your face forcing you to look at him.

“i didnt want to drug you but i had to. i had to teach you a lesson. would you rather those fucking perverted men drug you or me? huh? i know you would rather me fuck you raw on this bed right now than either of those fuck faces at the bar huh”

“uh-huh”

“thats what i thought, get on the bed.”

finally. you had been waiting all night.

he took his pants off and unbuttoned his shirt but didnt take it all the way off. you loved his body. He was muscular but only under his cloths, he normally looked slouchy and scrawny. meaning you were the only person who got to see him like this.

you lay with your legs spread open for him. your head propped up with pillows and your hands still tied behind your back.

tomura crawled onto the bed and sat on his knees between your legs.

his two fingers slid up and down you soaked folds.

“all this for me? im flattered”

he inserted his two fingers to your pleading hole.

he took the fingers out and put them in his mouth. rolling his eyes back as he slowly pulled them out of his mouth.

he smirked as he fingered you a little more slowly, then quickly, then slowly but with a third finger.

then finally he pulled out his cock. still red and angry from when you were sucking on it just a minute ago.

and he plunged it inside of you.

luckily you were plenty stretched out from his fingers because he wasted no time in bottoming out and finding his pace.

one of your legs over his shoulder and both of his hands on your his as leverage as he fucked you into the mattress without mercy.

he head back in ecstasy, hair covering his eyes. you could have come just from the sight of it.

you grabbed his fore arm, he looked down at you through his hair. he was glistening with sweat and looked at you a little confused.

you pulled him down, him releasing the leg that was formally on his shoulder.

his thrusts slowed as moved to get on top of you.

you stated sucking a hickey on his neck, he huffed and grabbed a handful of your hair.

“stop i have work” he said through grunts and whimpers.

despite his comment he found where your neck and shoulder met and dug his teeth in.

actually biting you.

you moaned into his hair. heh hummed in satisfaction while he moved to suck on your breasts.

one hand squeeing the right while he sucked on it and the other circling your nipple. occasionally pinching it.

all while he would ppound into your soaking wet entrance and then slowly pull out.

each thrust making squelching noises from your pleasure.

he released your tit with a pop from sucking on it and looked you in the eyes through his hair.

“im gonna cum in you. and were going to have a third. i need to see you pregnant again. full of my kids.”

he licked up your chest and getting closer to you. he pushed your hair out of your face and reiterated:

“you are going to be so fucking pregnant all the time. and everyone who sees you will know that i fucked your raw and i came inside of you. and that you are mine. you will have all of my kids” he moaned “youre my wife and the mother to all of my kids”

he grunted. you squeezed around him, excited at the thought.

he thrusts grew less organized and tomura furrowed his brow.

he stared whimpering “ung im close” he ran a hand through his hair “beg for it”

he didnt have to ask you twice.

you leaned up on your elbows and held his hand.

“please, theres noting i want more than your cum to fill me up. i long for being full and everyone knowing who i belong to”

one final thrust and you felt his cum fill you up.

he ran a hand through his hair. “im not moving for at least 15 minutes the cum has to stay in.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #yandere shigaraki #yandere shigaraki smut #lov smut #yandere lov #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x y/n #dilf shigaraki #mha shigaraki

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