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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 21 days

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Come Home With Me (part 1)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

Warnings: angst

a/n: was sorta crying while writing this, i love this sm..there’s going to be part 2! hope you enjoy it!

From the first moment one of your close friends told you she was getting married, you knew you'd have to mentally prepare for the fact that on her wedding day, your ex would be there.

It wasn't just any ex. It was Carlos Sainz. Your first true love. The boy you thought was the one. The boy with whom you were the happiest ever and for whom you thought there was no one else after him.

But things don't always work out the way we want them to. There is no greater pain than when two people who are made for each other meet at the wrong time.

Even though you both knew it would be difficult, you didn't want to give up on each other at first. When you met, you were 23 and he was 28. You were in the middle of finishing college in Madrid, which meant a lot of responsibilities, a lot of sacrifices, a lot of hard work and effort, a lot of suffering. And he just signed the contract with Ferrari and wanted to prove himself, show what he can do, show that he deserves to be where he is, he focused all his time and energy on his career.

You pushed together for two years, you tried somehow to find time for each other, but over time it became too difficult. He had no understanding of your needs, he devoted himself too much to work and, if you were the one to ask, in the end he gave up too easily on you, on the two of you.

Being with him was difficult at times, but being without him was countless times worse.

Even though you were very young when you first started dating, you wanted everything with him. You didn't see yourself with anyone else but him, nor did you want anyone else but him. And he, 5 years older than you, for him you were not his first love, but you were his greatest. You were his niña. That's how he used to call you. His niña bonita.

You were the one who ended things with him, but that didn't ease your pain at all. On the contrary, you expected him to fight for you, to say okay, we'll find a way to solve this, but he didn't. Therefore, you couldn't wait to finish college and return home to Monaco. You adored Madrid, you fell in love with that city as much as you did with Carlos, but after the breakup it was simply impossible to stay where every street, park, square, every corner where you were together reminded you immeasurably of him.

And so two years later, when your friend Isabella told you she was getting married and that Carlos would be at the wedding, you knew you weren't ready to see him. Two years later you had a new boyfriend Andrew, but deep down you knew you never got over Carlos.

Isabella was the one who introduced you to Carlos. The two of them have always been good friends, so it was logical that he would be invited, but you didn't think about it at all because you tried to suppress every thought about him. You knew you weren’t ready, but there wasn’t nothing you could do about it.

When that long-awaited wedding day came, as you all watched the bride walk towards the altar, you couldn't help but search for his face in the crowd of people in the church.

You shifted in place the whole time, your knees rocking back and forth. Even Andrew noticed something was going on with you.

“Are you alright, love?” He startled you when he asked. You almost forgot Andrew was standing right there behind you.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” You gave him a fake reassuring smile just so that he doesn’t ask any more questions.

You searched and searched and suddenly your eyes stopped at the last row of benches. There he stood, in a dark blue suit, his hair brushed to the side and freshly cut, more beautiful than ever. When you saw him, you didn't know that his brown eyes had already been watching you ever since he entered the church.

Your eyes immediately filled with tears as your gaze met his. It was the perfect moment to pretend you were crying for Isabella walking down the aisle.

“You sure you’re alright?” Andrew whisper-asked again.

“I’m just emotional, everything’s okay.”

In the evening when you arrived at the hotel where the wedding party was, your idea of having a good time was long forgotten. The venue was beautiful and luxurious. Everyone was happy, dancing and enjoying the newlyweds' day, only you were extremely nervous because you could feel Carlos' eyes on you all evening.

You tried to ignore him, to relax with a few drinks, but it was simply impossible to pretend he wasn't there.

“I'm going to go out on the terrace for some fresh air, okay?” You turned to Andrew who was talking to a friend that was sitting next to him.

“Okay, love. Give me a kiss.” He said. You leaned down to peck his lips before taking a glass of champagne and heading out.

There were a few people on the terrace, but you found an empty corner for yourself. You leaned your elbows on the fence and took a deep breath, closing your eyes in front of the night lights of beautiful Monaco.

Feeling the cool breeze on your skin, you wished it would take away all the pressure and sadness you carried with you. You wished that it would clear up everything cloudy in your mind that has been preventing you from moving on for two years already.

After about 10 minutes, you pulled yourself together and wanted to go back inside. Just as you finished up the champagne from the glass, you turned to go inside, but suddenly your breath stopped when you saw none other than Carlos standing behind you with his hands in his pockets and watching you with tilted head.

Your heart started pounding like crazy and your body froze in front of him.

“Carlos..” You barely spoke in a whisper.

“Y/n” He said quietly taking a step closer to you making you take a step back until your back hit the fence.

You didn't know what to say, what to do, even if you wanted to run away, your feet were as if glued to the floor. You just stood there in front of him looking straight into his eyes.

“What are you doing out here alone?” He asks breaking the silence between you two.

“I just needed to get some fresh air, that’s all.” You weren’t lying.

“Did my presence make you nervous?”

“No, your presence here doesn’t have anything to do with me.” But now you were.

“How have you been?”

“Good, very good actually.” Another lie.

“You’re not gonna ask me how I’ve been?”

“That’s none of my business anymore, so no. I don’t care.” He nods his head at your untrue words looking down at the floor.

“So who is that boy you came with?”

“That’s Andrew. My boyfriend.” You say biting the inside of your cheek. You almost felt guilty for calling him your boyfriend. Andrew. You were sure he was gonna go look for you if you don’t come back soon. “I should go. He’s probably looking for me right now.” You say trying to walk by past him, but he stops you by pulling you back by your elbow.

“Don’t go yet.”

“Why not? We have nothing to talk about.” You pull your elbow out of his grip, but you don't leave.

“Because you never left my mind.” He says. “Or heart.” He adds.

“It’s a little too late for that. You should’ve thought about that before you let me go.”

“Y/n, you were the one who broke up with me. I never wanted to end things between us.”

“You didn’t want to end things between us yet you gave up on us without a fight, so easily Carlos..” You fought with yourself not to cry. You didn't want to look weak in front of him even though you wanted to let him know how much he hurt you.

“That doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better or what?” You asked with a sneer. “I have a boyfriend now, I moved on Carlos. I’m happy.” You say hoping you sound convincing at least to him if not to yourself.

“You’re lying, I know you are. I can feel it.” He takes another step closer until you can feel his breath on your skin as he looks down at you. He puts his hands on the fence on either side so that you are between them. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you know you’re always gonna be mi niña. Mi niña bonita.” Your heart aches and trembles at the same time at your forever favorite nickname. He puts his hand on your cheek as he leans very close to your face.

“Carlos, stop..” Your voice cracks as you lean your cheek into his hand.

“Come home with me, baby. Please.”

“And where is that Carlos? Where is my home?”

“Your home is in Madrid, with me.” His hands move from your face to your hands taking them into his and bringing them to his lips.

“You know, while Isabella was walking down the aisle, I couldn't help but imagine that it was you, and that I was there waiting for you at the altar.” Tears just flowed down your cheeks as you listened to him say everything you once wanted to hear.

“Remember how we used to fantasize about it. I still want all of that, y/n. Letting you go was the biggest mistake ever. I am so sorry baby.”

“Yet you never cared enough to look for me. Your words don’t match your actions, Carlos.” Once again you pull yourself out of his grip and step away further from him. Listening to him was causing you too much pain especially because you still wanted all of that as well, but your pride did not allow you to surrender to your emotions.

“Because I knew you were suffering and I didn’t want to be the reason of that! I’m sorry, y/n, I wish I could go back in time and make you stay.” He says flustered, waving his arms.

Right in that moment, Andrew’s voice interrupts you breaking you from your bubble in which you found yourself in completely forgetting where you are.

“Y/n?” You quickly wipe the tears from your cheeks and the smeared mascara under your eyes.

“Well, I’m sorry too, Carlos.” With that you leave him standing there on the terrace as you turn around and head towards Andrew.

part 2

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mamayan · 7 months

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oof your writing is so good 🙈 if your requests are open, would you be willing to write smth for dabi with a nervous virgin reader? Maybe some fingering and petting, lots of praise and encouragement if you're okay with that!! I also wouldn't mind if theres a little dubcon scattered in there for flavour😳 Thank you!🙏

Fuck it’s his favorite— absolutely I will Nonnie♥️ Dabi is nothing if not the perfect gentlemen… sorta. Am I gonna get sued for changing his words in this manga panel? I got carried away with this lol

Yandere Dabi x Virgin! Darling

tw: NSFW • Fem! Darling • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Implied Mental/Emotional/Physical Abuse • Dubcon • Praise • Virgin! Darling • BDSM • Fingering • Oral • Sex (M)(F) • Denial/Edging • Overstimulation • Dacryphilia • Unprotected Sex • Creampie

The front door slammed loud enough to reverberate around the apartment.

You sat facing the small tv, the screen playing some sort of cartoon with the volume on low, unmoving even as the thuds of his boots against vinyl faux wood flooring became louder. You were curled around your legs, pulled to your chest as your bare feet seemed to absorb the cold around you, icy skin keeping you grounded. Only a thin ratty oversized t-shirt and tiny shorts covering your body, despite the broken thermostat keeping the apartment at almost freezing temperatures.

Dark combat boots entered your field of vision, you numbly let your eyes flick up to take him in. He smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey, the burning scent making acid bubble up in your stomach to your throat, but you meekly swallowed it down and gave a wobbly smile. “W-welcome home…” it was said with all the enthusiasm of a man walking towards his execution.

He crouches down to face you better, forearms resting on his knees as he levels you with a… soft look.

It has chills shooting down your spine, your stomach rolling and clenching while your chest heaves with anxiety. He’s not a soft man. He’s never been soft, not really, only in strange sporadic moments does he gently do anything to you, but it’s always followed by something sinister. Always.

“Hey pet, you cold?” He’s sadistic and cruel even on a good day. His words immediately making your eyes burn as you try to stop the impending tears. You’re always cold, left freezing locked up until his return, your only source of comfort and warmth him. It was a nasty play, logically you knew it, but logic was what got you hurt so you nodded despite the itch in your heart begging you to hold out a little longer. “M’cold…” you assent, unable to see the defeated dull look in your own eyes, but he could.

“C’mere then,” his smile is so sweet, his staples hardly pulling and his usually vibrant eyes more subdued and gentle. You wanted him to stop whatever game he’s playing now. Whatever sick trick he’s got hidden to make your walls crumble around you. His arms spread open, his knees hitting the floor so he could straighten his spine, and his embrace looking so warm.

Like selling your soul to the devil, you caved. Pathetically nearly falling as you all but threw yourself into him.

The fire wielding psychopath was a lot of things, and sadly running warmer than a normal person was one of them. Just being close to him was like sitting near a furnace, heat radiating off him in waves it seemed. You had all the time in the world to hate yourself when he inevitably left you again to nearly freeze, for now you focused on getting feeling back into your limbs as you pressed yourself as close as possible.

His chuckle is breathy as he wraps you up easily, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on his ass now, your thighs on either side of his to let you be as physically close as possible. Well, almost as physically close as possible, because when you were so desperate for his touch like this, it’s hard not to think about you begging for him to really warm you up.

“Better?” He doesn’t really need to ask, not when you’re fighting to keep your hands from digging under his shirt and getting more body heat from him. Your little sigh of contentment adorable, and while his day was mundane, he did get to release most of his pent up frustration on some lowlife pieces of shit. He was in a good mood, but he’d be in a better one soon.

“Hn” your little affirmation quiet as you rested your cheek against the exposed skin of his collarbone, breathing him in and relaxing as your stiff muscles and joints soaked his warmth up greedily. You didn’t even fight when his hands began to smooth over your skin, up your calves and thighs to your ass where he gave a little squeeze. You put up no resistance, no screaming or fighting tonight it seemed. “You still cold?” His lips are right are by your ear, warm breath blowing over it and sending a shiver of something… different down to your stomach. The stale cigarette scent wasn’t as bothersome to you when he wasn’t being mean it seemed.

You let him pet and stroke your skin, warming you up gradually and shifting you both around until your core was against his stomach and he was flat on his back. He even lifted up his shirt and your own a bit to give more contact, the staples across his chest smoother than you’d initially thought.

This was all wrong and you were without a doubt being soothed into… something. Peace? A sense of safety? Whatever it was, you mentally kept yourself prepared. Even if his touch was soft and careful, you knew what lurked behind those pretty eyes.

“You stopped shakin’…” his observation was more of a statement, but indeed you had warmed up enough not to shiver anymore. He wasn’t usually so nice as to help warm you up like this, usually making you drop to your knees and cling to him while he heckled your behavior.

Your world flipped too quickly to react. Your back now on the cool floor with his body looming over you.

“You’re still cold though, aren’t you pet?” His smile isn’t nice anymore.

“D-Dabi please…”

“What’s wrong, you don’t want me to warm you up anymore?” It was a thinly veiled threat that had you nearly delirious with panic in seconds.

“N-no I do! I do, please don’t stop!” Your pretty eyes filling with tears made him bite down hard on his tongue, tasting blood as he struggles to keep himself calm. It’s you after all. You weren’t some cheap whore he screwed for a quick release. You were his.

That meant something. Whether it was good or bad was debatable and complicated.

“Then let me warm you up, it’ll be faster like this,” he’s not lying. Even as he laughs at the confusion and waring emotions on your face, he really isn’t lying to you this time.

His lips aren’t soft. The kiss nothing like the ones you’d sneakily shared with a crush under the school bleachers, that kiss was a bit too wet and slimy. This one was commanding. His tongue easily slipping into your mouth in your shock, happy to invade and taste you, to share the overwhelming taste of tobacco. Your hands are tangled in his coat, tugging lightly on the fabric as he devours your mouth. He pulls back when you start to struggle, and the sight of your swollen parted lips has his pants uncomfortably tight. His zipper digging into his cock now.

“Dabi—,” your voice is barely even a whisper, almost inaudible but he catches it and pauses as he looks down at you carefully.

The fact that he’s even being careful should be considered as a mercy.

“Please be gentle…” your lips twist into a grimace, the lame line the only thing your muddled mind can conjure. His snort of amusement not helping your wounded pride, but as he shrugs his coat off and looks down at you, his words give you pause.

“I’m going to make you forget everything bad tonight pet.”

He doesn’t elaborate. You don’t need him to. You don’t want this. It doesn’t matter though, because you never wanted any of this. His sanity not even in question, because he’s clearly out of his damn mind and has been for quite a while.

His shirt is next, revealing his chest in the dim light of the tv still playing quietly, the words not even registering as a language you understood. The damaged flesh leathery and colored a dark purple in contrast to his healthy skin. You lay limp and almost defeated beneath him, watch as his hands deftly remove your own shirt, and while it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked… this would be the first he’s touched you so intimately. Your breasts exposed to the cool air harden quickly, his smile predatory as he leans over your chest to flick one with his tongue.

The sensation shoots straight to your pussy.

“Pretty little pet, are you scared?” His question is rhetorical, but you hate how he just seems to know your thoughts and feelings. So much so you wanted to ask if he hide a second quirk. In a last act of defiance, you shake your head. You are scared, terrified of what else there even is to lose because this evil man seems determined to take and have all of you. He’s insatiable for whatever you have, like a vampire taking the life right out of you. Except he won’t kill you, even if sometimes you wished he would. To end this game.

“Pfft, you look so serious,” his face is filled with only hunger and amusement, as he lets his rough palms rest over your breasts, squeezing lightly as he lets himself just take you in. His hands drag over your much softer skin, looking at the odd scar here and there left by his flames during the early days of your readjustment period. He lets one hand rest just over the mound of your pussy, still covered by the thin shorts that hardly covered anything. He’s quiet, and so are you, as you breathe and struggle to stay still for whatever this was. You imagined it to be more violent, less pathetic on your end, as if you’d given up without a fight.

Your tears of frustration finally broke and trailed down your cheeks, your brows furrowed and cheeks puffed as you try to stay silent and uphold whatever amount of dignity you had left. You wouldn’t beg him to stop, it only spurred him on. When his eyes looked back up, the image of you nearly drove him feral as he grinned, giddy with excitement in lieu of you crying. His snicker of approval only making you flinch back as his fingers hook inside the waist band of the shorts and your underwear.

“Keep crying pet. Maybe a hero will come to save you?” His words drip sarcasm as he now roughly yanks your bottoms down and off your body in one swift motion. You’re left completely nude and shivering as the cold seeps back into your body as you lay on the floor. “I don’t think any heroes even patrol this side of town anymore. Too dirty and messy, they can’t be bothered to save people here. So I guess that leaves just you n’me.” He’s not looking at your face, though he’d be elated to see the look of crushed hope painting your features, instead his eyes were trained on your tightly shut thighs. The soft skin a bit distorted from how hard you squeezed them closed. His dark hair falling a bit into his gaze as he easily digs his fingers roughly into your flesh to pry them open.

“Hii!” You cry of pain and shock adorable to his eyes as he gets an eye full in the dim light of your wet pussy.

“Better keep these spread pet, if I gotta open them again for you, I’ll give you a real reason to cry.” His eyes are fierce and foreboding as they meet your gaze, and fear keeps you compliant as you obey and keep your legs open where he left them. He smiles in approval, humming to himself as he begins to undo his belt and open up his pants.

He shifts to one handedly yanking his pants down to free his aching cock, his free hand moving to his open mouth to layer on his own saliva to his fingers. The wet digits brought to your pussy as you whimper, gently spreading your folds and admiring it as he grips his hard cock in his hand. You make the mistake of looking at it.

He’s covered in piercings. His cock long and thick, more so in the middle, with a slight upward curve… but there’s two distinct barbs through his dick on both sides, with the tip sporting one prominent one that had you wanting to disobey and close your legs anyway. It looked frightful and painful if anything else, and you briefly wondered if he did this to ensure his victims were thoroughly tormented at every step.

“Fuck look at you baby, so pretty like this aren’t you?” He’s gently poking and circling your clit, loving each little scared gasp and unsure look you shoot his way. He can tell it feels good for you, but with the uncertainty and fear factor of his looks and his cock, you’re wound tight in apprehension. He thinks it’s a beautiful sight on you. Your little sniffles and pouty lips captivate him into leaning over you again, licking your lips until you open and let him kiss you again. It’s languid and lazy like him, proving how good his mood currently is by how he’s taking his time with you. Your hands stay by your side, gripped tight into fists as you feel a finger begin to push inside of you.

He breaks the kiss the time, looking down to see you take his finger.

“Not so bad is it pet?” He wiggled and pushes it as deep as he can go, loving how your back aches and chest juts out in his face for easy access. He’s nice as he works you open with one finger, lavishing your sore nipples with licks and bites. You keep the moans soft and low, struggling to hate this like you thought you would.

It didn’t hurt at all. It felt good. That was the problem. Dabi never makes you feel good, he torments you like a cat with a mouse. That’s why he calls you pet.

So when he squeezes in a second finger and you moan louder? You nearly knock a tooth out slapping a hand over your lips in embarrassment.

“No you don’t,” his fingers rip free from your tight cunt, both hands gripping your wrists and pinning them with one hand above your head. He grabs his jacket, using the arms to make a makeshift cuff to lock your hands together. “Keep’’em right there,” he orders, and by his stern features you know he means it.

Tired of just testing the waters, Dabi crawls down your body in favor of bringing his face directly before your pussy. “Dabi?” Your head lifted to try and see him as he wraps his arms under your hips to hoist you up higher towards his awaiting mouth. “Been thinkin’ of how this pussy tastes for months,” he grins, letting his pierced tongue run from your dripping hole to your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body as your legs jolt and snap around his head.

You realize quickly and apologize, opening them to avoid any punishment.

“Good girl~” you don’t like how his praise warms you up further, your shaking now less from cold or fear and more from arousal.

He repeats his first few licks, before beginning to truly lavish your pretty cunt with his tongue and skills. Dabi isn’t actually an experienced man, most women fearful or disgusted by him for obvious reasons, but it wasn’t hard for him to figure out your reactions and follow the flow of your pleasure. The way you twitched and moaned, struggled to keep your hands in the spot he ordered you to, to keep your legs spread, he loved all of it. When your moans became high pitched whimpers and whines, and your muscles spasmed, he knew you were close.

“D-Dabi I think I—,” you were so close, core wound so tight you could snap at any second, and for the first time you liked what he was doing to you.

Until he stopped.

“No—!” Your cry was embarrassing, as you shook beneath him in horror of your own reaction. Panting and trying to catch your breath as your pleasure faded by the second, his Cheshire grin soaking up your disappointment eagerly. Of course he would, you felt bitter, even as he returned to licking and sucking your clit. Only when the build up returned did you relax again, moving your hips up a little as you neared the crest once more…

He stopped again.

“Dabi—!” Your indignant tone telling as you huffed, sweat beginning to dot your skin despite the cool temperatures, Dabi’s warmth even removed like this helping.

Your stomach ached with the urge to cum. “Something wrong pet?” His face said he knew what was wrong, but it seemed he wanted you to say it. Instead you stubbornly pressed your lips together, his shrug of nonchalance following as he returned to kissing and sucking, slower and more gradually building you up again.

Even if you mentally prepared for it, he let you get much closer to coming than the previous times, so when he pulled away, your legs clamped tight around his head to stop him. “Fuck, please Dabi,” you hated yourself. Hated how he held so much power over you.

If you didn’t look so cute, he’d probably punish you too for not listening.

“Please what?” You watch as he lets a drop of his salvia drip into your pussy, your trembling legs pushed open again by his hands as he stares up at you.

“P-please…” you didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give him anymore of yourself but… “—please make me cum.”

He looks like that cat which got the milk. His satisfaction palpable as he laughs. “Well why didn’t you just say so? Since you said please.” His teasing tone muffled again soon by your wet pussy, his aggressive approach now much more intense as he eats you out with the purpose of making you cream his face now.

It doesn’t take long before the string violently snaps inside you, your orgasm intense and nearly painful as you come apart.

“Ah, yes, oh—,” you try to shift away, his tongue still laving your clit as he looks up at you, narrow gaze teasing and telling as you whine. “D-Dabi I-I already—ah please!” You almost bite your tongue when he sucks hard on your clit, your panic building with another orgasm. You moan, your head thrown back as your fingers grip and tug on the binding of his coat, hips shaking as you come again.

His lower face is soaked, but he can’t find it in himself to stop as he licks up all your release and noses your clit. Switching his assault to inside of your quivering hole, letting his wet hot tongue slither in, licking and poking your walls. He moans with you now, relaxing as he lets himself get comfortable, leaning against your thigh he has propped up now with his arm keeping you locked in position. He’s lazily feasting as you come again, this time breaking his rule and trying to push his face away with your hands still bound.

He doesn’t even stop then, just uses his free hand to grip the fabric and anchor your hands to your stomach as he continues to work you into another frenzy.

“S’too much! Stop! Stop Dabi! Please fuck, I can’t, ugh, no more—,” your pleas are ignored as he laughs, eyes crinkling as he watches you twitch and jolt with even the tiniest amount of pressure to your clit now.

“I thought you wanted to cum? Change your mind already?” You can hardly manage a full sentence, gasping for air like he’s choked you or something. He relents though, only because his cock is close to shooting his load even though he hadn’t touched himself while playing with you. Using his coat, he lifts your hands back above your head and scoots forward to let his heated cock slap against your wet folds. His hips automatically jerking a few times as his dick feels the soft wet heat your cunt is soaked in.

“You want my cock pet?” You look delirious and exhausted, sweat making your hair cling to your face as you briefly almost admit to being too warm now. Your both chilled and overheated as your sweat dries. Your blurry vision glances down to his throbbing length peaking at you from below, the heavy rod sliding back and forth through your slick and causing your pussy to twitch as he nudges your clit with it.

“S’not gonna fit…” his lip nearly splits on his smile, the cute admission only making him wanna shove it in you more to prove it will fit.

“You don’t think so?” His eyes look inhumanly blue from the cast of whatever show played on the tv now. One hand stays to keep your own pinned, while the other travels down your soft body to grip his cock and line himself up. “‘Cuz I think it will,” then he’s pushing in. His tip goes in easier as it gets crushed by your tight convulsing cunt, the rest engorged by blood feels painful as you cry, Dabi moaning as your gooey walls try to force him out. “I think,” one sharp thrust sinks a whole inch in, your eyes opening wide as tears spill freely, “I’ll get my entire cock in,” he pulls out only a little before shoving in a little more again. “And you know what else I think?” He’s leering down at you, manic grin frightening with the added shadows cast. You can feel his piercings, tugging and forcing themselves inside as he shifts and pushes, nearly stealing your ability to breathe.

“I think you’re gonna like it.” You can’t talk and he knows it, as his tip kisses your cervix, and then it’s bruising it as he shoves himself to entire way in, gasping in pleasure he sees himself fully sheathed inside you. His groin flush with your ass. Your walls so tight it feels impossible to pull out now. It doesn’t matter to Dabi though, as he grits his teeth and rocks forward and back, creating delicious friction on his cock. You’re left to sniffle and cry, pussy stretched painfully wide and aching deep inside from how his rough entrance.

“Poor little crybaby,” he chuckles, leaning closer to lick the tears off your cheeks as he finally gets himself wet enough to begin a slow pace inside you. “You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, burying his face in your neck for a moment while he ruts into you, quick short thrusts working him close to his orgasm. His hand works between you, thumbing your clit as you cry and writhe beneath him, pussy clenching and relaxing as you’re forced to cum with something thick, hot, and painfully heavy inside your cunt.

“Shitttt,” his teeth sink into your neck, grunting as his balls draw tight and he pumps his boiling load deep into your womb, pushing even deeper as it twitched and spurts. Your legs locking and trembling as you see stars.

He stills for a moment, catching his breath quickly as he lifts up to look at your ruined appearance. Your face covered in tears as you pant, eyes nearly closed as struggle to stay awake. Your pussy even messier, slick and cum coating you both and the floor, a tiny bit of pink mixed too.

The thought that it was him who ruined your innocence, taken your first and last, has him hardening again inside you.

You can only whine, silently pleading for a break, but his answering smile is familiar and devious.

“C’mon pet, we’re just getting started tonight.” He chuckles, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming into you now. The shock woke you up fully, pussy protesting the rough treatment he sets as the room fills with salacious noises, your pussy squelching with each slap of his balls. The piercing on his tip hitting a new angle as he leans back and jerks your hips up off the floor.

“Oh!” Your vision goes black as you cum, and Dabi only laughs and fucks you harder as you pass out, loving the stupid expression on your fucked out face.

“That’s it pet, said I was gonna make you forget!” He’s emptying another load inside you not longer after, his own dick becoming a bit overstimulated but too engrossed fucking you to stop yet. With you half conscious, it’s easy to slip out and flip you to your stomach before sliding back in smoothly. “Fuck, you feel so good baby, taking my cock like you were made for it,” his words are slurred in his pleasure, his hips working against your ass as he drags his slick cock out of your pussy before working it back in. He’s even deeper like this, your belly and hips flat on the floor as he fucks you.

You can’t even remember why you didn’t want this anymore. The pleasure and warmth overwhelming and so perfect.

At least as he fills your pussy again, you don’t feel cold.

#request filled #bnha Dabi #Bnha Dabi smut #mha Dabi #mha Dabi smut #Touya Todoroki smut #Dabi smut #Dabi x reader smut #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n smut #bnha smut #villain smut #yandere smut #yandere Dabi #yandere dabi smut #yandere dabi x reader smut #fem! reader

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coralinnii · 10 months

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❋Keeping your scrunchie for you❋

Who would keep your scrunchie for you, and would even do your hair feat: Ace ⭑ Sebek ⭑ Azul ⭑ Jack genre: fluff, humor note: reader has hair that uses scrunchies, reader has hair for long hair hairstyles, established relationships, no pronouns used,

I know it's been a while but I have been meaning to write. I just have what I'm calling Silver Syndrome where I fall asleep at any given moment and lose track of time ^_^' whoops

This is sorta self-indulgent since I’m also guilty of always forgetting my hair ties at my friend’s place and when I need one, they would come to me with their arm filled with them xD. Since then, we would always have spares on each other in case any of us need them.

Getting him to keep it

At first he was gonna tease you. What? Do you feel the need to lay claim on him that you want to leave something of yours on him for all to see? You know there’s more than a hair tie you can leave on him-

Oh, you’re just forgetful and you want to have a spare on him if you need one? You guys are practically attached to the hip so there’s logic to it, to you anyway.

He's so gonna fight you on it. It’s one thing to ask him to keep spare some small hair ties on him, heck if you let him use them on occasion he wouldn’t mind at all. But it was those poofy, colorful scrunchies that he can’t even hide underneath his jacket sleeve.

But he loses this fight with you (he always does when it comes to you) and ends up with a cutesy hair tie that contrasts heavily against his black school jacket. He had to fight the embarrassed flush every time he got teased, especially by his upperclassmen like Cater and Floyd.

Don’t let his loud complaining fool you, though. Despite all the teases, he still keeps your scrunchie out in the open when he could have easily stuffed it in his pocket. He secretly likes fidgeting with it during class, partly since it’s really soft and partly that it reminds him of you. He thinks a lot about how pretty you look when you have your hair up.

Would he tie your hair?

Yes, but he wasn't great at it. At first, he can do a simple ponytail but that’s all he really knows about hairstyles. I mean, he only ever ties his bangs back so he’s not the most creative in the hair department.

Have some patience with him as he sometimes messes up and gets your hair tangled. He’s a fast learner so he’ll get the hang of it.

Once he’s used to it, he’ll start experimenting with your hair by giving you goofy hairdos like a unicorn horn on your head. He once tried to make round cartoon-like “ears” with your hair for giggles. But he always offers to brush your hair back to normal each and every time.

Actually, Ace likes to mess with your hair a lot more often now because this gives him a chance to brush your hair. He enjoys the intimacy of the activity, like you two are in your own little world with no one to disturb you. He can spend hours just running his fingers through your hair while you chat about anything and everything.

“Hey, stop moving around so much! Don’t go complaining to me if this new hairdo turns out bad”

Getting him to keep it

Definitely gonna fight you on this. He argued that you should be responsible enough to remember to keep spares on you at all times. It’s your own fault for being so forgetful about your own things. Plus, it goes against his dress code and he can’t bear to ruin Malleus’ reputation just because his loyal knight has a bright puffy scrunchie on his wrist.

You decided it’s fine if he can’t do it but it did bum you out a bit. Imagining the serious Sebek with your bright scrunchie on his wrist would be the cutest thing to see but you didn’t want to push it if it caused this much arguing.

But Sebek noticed your declining mood and started to have conflicted thoughts because of it. Would it really make you that happy to see him with that tacky thing on his arm?

The next day, Sebek came up to you and wordlessly raised his arm towards you. Confused, you asked the green-haired freshman what’s wrong.

“...I shall allow it”

“What?”

Apparently, Sebek couldn’t get your sad face out of his head all day yesterday, ruining his mood and causing him to stress out with worry. Lost as to what to do, he did what he tends to do in these situations, and asked Lilia for advice. The older fae chuckled at poor Sebek and assured him that a trivial piece of fabric would hardly ruin Malleus’ image so he is free to decide what he wants to do.

And Sebek wants to make you happy.

“Give me your cursed scrunchie, human”

Would he tie your hair?

Again, he’s going to fight you on this. He claims he has better things to do but really he’s just terrible with styling hair and was scared if you didn’t like his work. Unless you want your hair gelled up like his, he doesn’t know what else he can really do with hair in general.

Still, you encouraged him to try and with you boosting his courage, he started trying simple hairstyles like braids and ponytails. He was a little clumsy but always up to improve himself. He soon became more confident and would even offer to tie your hair up during P.E classes or club activities.

He especially likes trying out hairstyles that are trendy with his fae kind, like braiding flowers into your hair. The people of Briar Valley are more traditional with their appearance and more extravagant hairstyles are typically reserved for special occasions like parties…or weddings.

The way Sebek’s cheeks burned when he couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful your hair might look for your wedding…with him as your husband-to-be. Your hair would be absolutely ethereal no matter the style, considering that it’s you-what was he thinking?!

Best not to bring up his bright face or he’ll start yelling out of sheer embarrassment.

“...Well, is this to your liking? It is?...I see… What?! I was not worried, don’t be absurd!”

Getting him to keep it

For the right price, sure.

I’m joking (kinda) but honestly Azul wouldn’t mind it since it wasn’t that big of a request. I firmly believe that he has more than enough pockets with his dorm uniform.

Anyone who would even try to tease him about it would just be asking for humiliation as Azul would respond swiftly with some backhanded comments.

“Embarrassing, you say? Well, I suppose having a lover that relies on me so would seem tiresome to some people. However, I'm afraid I'm just so smitten with my adorable lover who just trust me so. Sighhh, woe is me”

This octoman would play the “no b*tches?” card. Such poor, unfortunate souls

But one day you needed a hair tie and you asked Azul if he still had your spare. The merman then pulled out a scrunchie you didn't recognize from his pocket

“Azul Ashengrotto…whose scrunchie is this?!”

Before you start to panic, Azul quickly explained that he came across this scrunchie at a store in the town near the campus.

“I thought this would look good on you, so I bought it in hopes it suits your taste”

Even though Azul tried to sound casual, there was a cute flush coloring his cheeks that he was trying to hide behind his gloved hand. He knew you had enough hair ties and you could always buy more yourself. But, he just couldn't stop himself.

That scrunchie was now your new favorite accessory.

Would he tie your hair?

Contrary to the previous boys, Azul has a better sense of style due to his entrepreneurial nature and his dedicated interest to keep up with the most marketable trends.

I also believe that since Azul is a mommy’s boy, he paid close attention to his mother’s hair styling routine. However, he realizes that it won’t exactly be the same considering you both are not in the ocean and he himself is adjusting to life with dry hair.

But he won’t be stopped by his inexperience. He would research the best hairstyles for your hair type and what would amplify your natural features. Every chance to do your hair was a chance to improve his skills. Get real comfortable because you’ll be his guinea pig for hours. At least you’ll be a beautiful guinea pig by the end of it.

At first Azul had some insecurities about keeping you for so long, surely you would be bored being with him for so long and having him practice with your hair, especially when you wouldn't really gain much from it other than a mess on your head most of the time.

Please reassure him that you love these intimate moments with him and you trust him wholeheartedly with your hair.

“I’ve heard stories that speak of mermaids that used to lure humans with their beautiful hair. I thought it foolish to be so easily charmed…but seeing yours, I suppose there’s some truth to that.”

Getting him to keep it

Grumbled about it at first but will keep it for you. Any exasperation was mostly just you asking him because of your tendency to forget them than anything else. Despite his grumpy look, Jack wasn’t going to fight you on something as trivial as holding some hair ties for you. Would question you what’s so great about scrunchies, though (they’re adorable, ok?!)

All he asked was that it’s a scrunchie that doesn’t get in the way of his daily routine, and if you could pick one that would be a bit water resistant or dark in color since he’s worried that he would get it dirty during his work-out routine or spelldrive practice at Savanaclaw.

He honestly doesn’t understand why anyone would make fun of him for holding a scrunchie for you. He's whipped because you trust him with your stuff? This man just can’t relate to loser behavior.

Even if he's not a fan of scrunchies, he’s still incredibly careful with your hair tie, making sure that it’s either tucked safely under his sleeve or mindful to avoid accidentally snagging the fabric on something.

If he just recently got the scrunchie from you, he can still smell the scent of your shampoo on it as it starts mixing with his own scent. Don’t tell him but some of his dormmates can see his tail slightly wagging when he glimpses down to his wrist every now and again where your hair tie is.

Would he tie your hair?

He’ll fight more on this. You guys are in an academy, you should be able to tie your own hair. Don’t be lazy, he stated.

But watch him later try to excuse his actions when he suddenly pulls your hair back with your scrunchie during lunch, just so your hair doesn’t get in your face as you ate. You honestly forgot he still had your scrunchie and Jack was getting frustrated watching your hair constantly falling forward every time you tried to reach your food.

Since Jack has younger siblings, he has some experience with tying someone’s hair despite having fairly short hair himself. It’s nothing too fancy but he’s pretty good with some basic hairstyles

He’s really gentle with your hair, occasionally pausing to gauge your expression to ensure you’re not in pain. Sometimes you have to be careful or you might just fall asleep with how Jack’s large hands softly handle your hair like it was silk.

“This should keep your hair out of your face. Huh, how do you look? Don’t ask stupid questions…you already know you always look good…No, forget I said anything!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #twst ace x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #jack howl #twst jack howl #twst jack x reader

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mckinlily · 2 years

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Every time I see one of the “Bruce Wayne collects orphans” or “where does Batman get all these children???” jokes, I get this little ping in my head because, yes, it is a good joke, very funny, bonus points if it’s other characters trying and failing to combine Broody McBroodface with Tired DadTM. But also…

I just can’t shake the conviction that no one is as baffled and bewildered by his ever increasing number of children than Bruce Wayne himself.

Like, this man clearly never intended to be a dad. He is Vengeance and Justice Committed to The Mission. Kids don’t factor into that. And to that point, it’s worth noting that none of his kids were premeditated. At no point has Bruce ever thought “maybe I want a(nother) kid.” They just sorta…happen. And not even in the usual way! (Mostly)

Like, Dick? Bruce wasn’t going “orphan shopping.” He went to the circus to to relax for once in his godforsaken life and wow, would you look at that, a vivid recreation of his own trauma and, oh, who’s this kid Batman keeps running into on patrol, wait, this is the same kid?! Whoops, I guess I’m raising this kid now, Alfred how do you raise a kid!?!

Jason? Yeah, Bruce was just doing his usual Batman thing when he ran into a homeless kid and somehow got too attached. Tim just showed up one day and said, “hi, I’m your kid now, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” (Really. you can’t stop me). Damien basically did the same thing, only with more stabbing. Cass…?? Stephanie????!!

(Bruce googling in the middle of the night: Is it normal to adopt your son’s ex-girlfriend?? Or did she adopt me??? Giving a kid an unlimited credit card and vigilante training counts as adoption, right??)

Point is, these kids just…show up, needing help, and somehow, for reasons that defy all logic, Bruce is the adult best equipped to help them. And yeah, Bruce never intended to adopt a kid (…or seven) and, no, he doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing, but these kids need him so he takes them in and does His Best because he’s the one who can.

Which is all to say, I think we should see far more conversations re: Finding out Batman has approx. 5 million kids that go like this

Someone: What? Do crime-fighting orphans, just like...crawl out of the woodwork around you? Bruce, exasperated and visibly stressed: yeah, BASICALLY.

#batfam #bruce loves his kids dearly #he would never give them up #he just has no idea how he ended up with all of them in the first place #mckinlily writes: batfam fic

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sc0tters · 7 months

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In The End | Mat Barzal

summary: ultimately in the end fate realised that you were simply better suited for the man in New York. At least this one had your heart.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating.

word count: 1.59k

authors note: you guys probably haven’t been waiting for this one but the final part of this series is now here! Honestly it started off as a fun take on a request but I’m so glad that it bloomed into something more. We might not love Tito in this series, but he deserved the sorta ending he got.

part one | part two

What the fuck is going on y/n?

That was the last thing you had heard from Mat before he walked out of your apartment.

Two months had gone by and you had convinced yourself that this was for the best. Without Mat, it meant you had the time to truly focus on your relationship with Tito.

And that was going really well, Anthony and you spent three weeks in France where you found a ring in his suitcase.

Whilst no proposal came you were relieved to not have to turn him down. Time and time again you found your mind slipping back to Mat and you grew to hate yourself for it. How one night could make you so unhappy as you longed for the boy who wanted nothing to do with you.

But what you didn’t know was that Mat was longing for your message, your phone call, anything that showed him that you were done with Anthony. Yet as the posts came along highlighting the best moments from your trip he lost faith.

With weeks until the season was meant to start up again you thought that this was a battle that you were going to win “babe can you go get that?” Anthony called from the kitchen hearing his phone ring in the bedroom.

You thought nothing of it truly, so you stopped doing your makeup and went to his side of the bed to grab his phone “what the fuck?” You asked seeing Jenny🥰 appear as a FaceTime call.

Stupidly you answered with not a thought in your mind as you had more questions than answers “oh my god!” She shrieked seeing you appear on the screen instead of Anthony.

The girl was in nothing but some lingerie as she was forced to quickly find a robe to cover herself up. Anthony came back into your bedroom as you hadn’t responded to his messages of concern “baby?” His voice was nervous as he was met with the sight of your back.

You hadn’t realised that you were crying when you turned around to face him “h-how l-l-long?” You croaked out as you turned the phone around so that he could see what you had seeing.

His face dropped at the sight “I can explain-” Anthony reached out for you but you pulled away “answer my question?” The hockey player sighed as he watched her hang up the call.

If there was a moment that he knew that he was going to get caught then it would have been this one “we started in February.” Anthony confessed as he sat on the bed “and your ring?” Your lip quivered as his eyes widened.

Anthony let his head fall to his hands “for her.” In that very moment your sadness turned to anger “look I’m sorry-” the hockey player went to apologise but you cut him off “go find her.” You blurted out making his eyes go wide.

Your fingers ran through your hair “if you don’t love me anymore go be happy with her.” The logical part of your brain was only thinking about Mat.

The hockey player looked up at you “you’ve got someone too don’t you?” It was the fact that the spark that Anthony once lit in your eyes came up when you told him to go find her.

All you could do was nod as the boy got up to hug you “go get him.” Anthony smiled as you wrapped your arms around him giving him a squeeze “good luck.” Was the last thing you said to him before you left the apartment.

New York seemed to be on your side as the weather was warm but the cool breeze helped you as you ran through the city “pick up please!” You groaned as it went to voice note again.

Hey it’s Mat, I can’t come to the phone right now leave a message!

You grumbled something under your breath as you hung up feeling defeat slap you in the face as you sat on the sidewalk as your feet grew sore after you were met with nobody at Mat’s door.

It looked like you were an emotional girl who had just been dumped or something as your hands buried your face hiding it from the world.

You wanted to cry as cars whizzed past you “girl come with us!” Some random girls smiled at you as one of them held their hand out for you to grab.

They looked like they couldn’t have been any older than you so with their friendly faces you nodded getting up to face them “where are you going?” You asked wiping your eyes as you realised that your cheeks were wet “Still Partners over there!” The girl who helped you up explained as you could hear the sound of music coming from the bar.

So you followed them curious to know what caused the big crowd of people at the bar.

The soft sounds of a guitar played over the hum of the crowd “they’re really good.” You mumbled surprised when you were met with nods of agreement.

Your real shock of the night was when you finally got to see them, most of the members of the band were people you hadn’t met before. But of course there stood Mat, guitar in his hands and a look that was once nervous but then turned happy as he saw you.

Mat had this grin on his face as his eyes never left you “hi,” you mouthed sending him a salute as the boy responded with a nod trying to focus on what he was playing as your presence got rid of most of his nerves.

The hockey player practically jumped off the stage when their performance was done as he made a beeline for you as you stood by the bar “you did so good!” You smiled ordering him a beer to congratulate him.

Mat couldn’t believe that you were stood there in front of him “why are you here?” The Canadian wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you into a hug “I came looking for you.” Now that wasn’t exactly the reason why you were in the bar but as the girls you hung out with waved goodbye you couldn’t help but smile “f’me?” Mat repeated as though you spoke a foreign language.

You looked up at him as you nodded “Anthony and I broke up.” You awkwardly explained as your ego tried to hold onto the fact that he let a smirk form on his lips for a quick second before he let you two sit down.

In that very moment the boy let his hand run up your knee as he looked at you like you two were the only people in the packed out bar “how do you feel about it?” Mat didn’t know if you were there for some kind of comfort or instead for what he hoped you would eventually say, that you would be there for him.

Whilst a million answers seemed to come to your mind you couldn’t help but shrug “relieved, a little embarrassed even-” you raked your fingers through your hair as Mat cut you off shaking his head.

He wrapped his fingers around the freshly poured pint glass that they bartender had placed in front of him “did he do something stupid?” The Canadians question made you feel dumb “he fell in love with a girl in Vancouver.” Was all you needed to say for Mat to bring his hand to his mouth.

Although he was surprised, he couldn’t say that he was fully shocked. Anthony hadn’t mentioned you in their weekly calls since February “which is sort of comforting cause then I don’t feel bad admitting that I love you.” You were very much so the kind of girl who kept your cards close to your chest but in that very moment you wanted Mat to know exactly where your head was at.

Mat slowly nodded as he took in the information “I tried to tell myself that if I ignored you and just worked on Tito then I’d be able to ignore you.” The ramble that came from your lips seemed to be like a weight that was lifted off of your shoulders “but the truth is that I grew to resent myself for pushing you away.” At this point you hadn’t realised that tears were rolling down your cheeks for the second time tonight until Mat leaned over and brought his hand to your cheek.

His calloused finger wiped away from your cheek as Mat frowned “you never pushed me away.” He cooed slotting his legs between yours as he got himself as close as he could to you.

The Canadian tilted your head up as he was now stood “fucking love you baby.” Mat’s confession had a grin on your face that probably gave the Cheshire Cat a run for his money.

You made the next move as you pushed yourself up on the chair letting you peck his lips “hey I tell you I love you and that’s how you respond?” Mat playfully scoffed letting his hands land on either side of your stool locking you in.

A giggle left your lips as you leaned forward again this time meeting his request as your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him down with you. Your tongue ran over his lower lip as you seemed to be in control of it until Mat pulled away “that’s more like it my shining star.”

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #hockey oneshot #hockey imagines #nhl oneshot #nhl imagines #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #amber writes fics

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lipglossanon · 11 months

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I Know It Sounds Absurd (Please Tell Me Who I Am)

꧁⸺⧼ ❦ ✩ ☾ ✩ ❦ ✩ ☾ ✩ ❦ ✩ ☾ ✩ ❦ ⧽⸺꧂

Corrupt Cop!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Dedicated to all of you wonderful folks out there who enjoy my content! 🙈 You guys make my day every day! 😘 💜

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, dirty talk, fingering, DARK THEMES such as rape play, rape fantasy, rape kink, consensual non con (reader is very much into it although she acts like she doesn’t); rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, squirting

Roughly looked over but I’m sure there’s mistakes 😜 also this one is mostly smut not much plot, Leon’s been making me feel some sorta way lately 🥵 🤭

Title from The Logical Song by Supertramp

<<previous installment>> ||| <<next installment>>

꧁⸺⧼ ❦ ✩ ☾ ✩ ❦ ✩ ☾ ✩ ❦ ✩ ☾ ✩ ❦ ⧽⸺꧂

It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve actually spent any time with Leon. Your schedules haven’t lined up, you haven’t talked or even texted each other that much. You’ve been so busy with school that you’ve been putting all of your focus on that.

Or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself as you cancel plans again to work on your biology assignment. You’re starting to realize that as hot as you find it, Leon also kind of scares you. It’s nice to have someone so protective of you, but it’s getting to the point you don’t feel like you have any autonomy anymore.

It’s nice to get the flowers and notes left on your door, but you think that he’s starting to overstep a bit. He bumps into you everywhere: the grocery store, the library, the gas station, the park, the hair salon. It’s getting ridiculous.

Today, the guy you went out with ages ago to Lover’s Lane made eye contact with you in the library; you had your hand raised halfway to wave at him, to sort of say no hard feelings, but he blanched and took off in the opposite direction. Frowning, you watch him speed walk out of the library.

A warm arm brushes against your shoulder, “Hey, sweetheart, you working late again?”

Leon’s voice sends goosebumps down your arms every time you hear it; the deep timbre makes you ache in all kinds of ways, but fear zings through your brain at the same time.

You turn and smile at him, hoping he doesn’t see your nervousness, “Hey Leon, yeah, trying to cram in some study sessions before finals.”

“Really?” He smiles at you, boyish and sweet and it makes you soft for him.

“Mm yeah,” you hum, smiling more naturally, “Laura was supposed to meet me but she said something came up.”

“Oh, is that the friend from the grocery store?” He pulls out a chair and sits next to you, sliding a book out of the way to rest his elbow on the table.

“Yeah,” your brows pucker in annoyance, “I think you spooked her when you ran into us that day.”

“Ah, I’m sorry baby,” he soothes, rubbing his hot palm across your knee.

You nod but don’t say anything, thinking back to that day. Laura convinced you to make a snack run where you both accidentally met up with Leon. But now you’re not so sure it was an accident. You stepped away to grab something, leaving Laura to chat with Leon for a few minutes.

Hoping they got along, you came back to a tense situation that seemed to break up when Leon saw you. Laura didn’t really speak much for the rest of the day and now that you’re thinking of it, she’s avoided you pretty consistently ever since.

“You okay?”

Leon’s low rumble pulls you back to the present.

You nod and rub your eyes with the heel of your hands, “Yeah, I think I’m just burnt out.”

“Take a break, start fresh tomorrow. C’mon I’ll walk you home,” he stands up, helping you from your chair.

You smile up at him again, “Thanks, Leon. You’re so sweet.”

You grab his hand and stand up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. As you turn back to grab your things off the table, you don’t notice his blue eyes heatedly staring at you like he wants to eat you alive.

You toss your pencils in your bag last and throw the strap over your shoulder, “All ready to go.”

Leon slips the strap off of your arm and over his, “Let’s get you home, sweet girl.”

The sweetness of Leon’s actions makes you feel light and giggly, “Okay. Thank you!”

He smirks to himself while you walk beside him filling him in on your school schedule. The walk home seems to go by more quickly with Leon beside you. Once you’re outside your front door, you take your bag from Leon.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you smile shyly, biting your bottom lip.

“It’s no problem, sweetheart,” he trails his fingers down your jaw, underneath your chin, to tick your head up higher.

You sigh softly as Leon presses a kiss against your lips, quickly turning heated when he presses you against your door. You moan high in your throat, hands grasping the front of his shirt, fingertips catching on his badge.

You pull back, to confirm that yes he is wearing his uniform. How did you not notice? Your eyelashes flutter shut when he sucks a bruise on your neck, making your legs tremble.

“If I had the time, I’d take you apart right here, pretty girl,” he murmurs, kissing across your jaw, “make you cum all over me.”

“Leon!” you gasp, pussy dripping slick at his voice, “want it, please.”

“Fuck,” he grunts, slipping a hand underneath your skirt and panties to touch your bare pussy.

“Can you cum for me? Get my fingers nice and wet?” He growls, slipping his ring and middle finger in your clenching hole to fuck up hard into your pussy, palm smacking against your clit.

You gasp, hips rocking down into his palm, pussy clenching around his fingers. He rubs his thumb across your swollen clit in rough circles.

“Leon,” you whine, hands grabbing at his forearms, tendons flexing as he keeps finger fucking you against your front door.

You pant, eyes half lidded as you look up into his hungry gaze. Your pussy squelches with every movement, getting wetter at the thought of doing this in broad daylight where any of your neighbors could see.

His deep voice rumbles in your ear, “Love to just fuck you open on my cock, but we’ll have to save that for later.”

Slick leaks from your pussy all over his hand, dripping down his wrist.

“You’re gonna get my uniform all dirty, sweetheart,” he laughs, tongue dipping in your ear before he places a wet kiss on the shell.

You whine high in your throat, hips grinding down harder on his fingers stretching your drippy cunt open, “Leon!”

“Who’s gonna make you cum?” he growls in your ear.

“Daddy,” you buck your hips down into his hand and moan as his palm smacks your clit harshly.

“There we go,” he chuckles meanly, “my pretty girl needs to cream my fingers so daddy can go to work.”

Mewling, you roll your hips down into his rough finger fucking, “Daddy, please.”

He presses hot open mouthed kisses along your neck and jaw before licking into your panting mouth.

Your pussy pulses around his fingers, more slick wetting his fingers.

You feel your orgasm ramping closer with every steady thrust of Leon’s fingers in your aching pussy, “I’m close.”

“Cum for me, soak my fingers, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear, voice low and smoky, “you can do it, be a good girl and cum for me.”

With one final swipe against your swollen clit, your back bows off of the door, thighs clamping tightly around his wrist. Your pussy clenches down on his fingers, trying to milk them with soft pulses as your walls flutter around the digits.

“So good for me,” he kisses your cheek then your lips.

He gently pulls his fingers away from your suckling heat, bringing them up to his mouth to lap up your creamy slick. He stares at you, eyes hot and heavy.

“I really need to go or I won’t leave,” he kisses you again, deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You good to go out tomorrow night?” He pulls back and straightens his shirt, adjusting himself in his slacks.

Your mouth waters at the thought of dropping to your knees for him, but you shake that away.

Still high on endorphins, you smile happily at him, “Sure, tomorrow is good.”

He drops a kiss to your head and you sigh, “Thank you, daddy.”

“Oh my pleasure, sweetheart,” he kisses you once more, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You watch him walk back the way you both came until you can’t make him out anymore. Turning, you unlock your door and shakily step into your house.

You walk over to your couch and drop your bag down before slumping onto the couch cushion next to it. Leaning your head back, you sigh into the empty room. Your body’s still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm and you bite your lip, embarrassment crashing over you at letting Leon finger you on your front stoop.

He just alters your brain chemistry, making you too horny to think clearly. You shift and can still feel how wet your panties are from a moment ago making your nose scrunch in discomfort. As you get up to go take a quick shower, you’re thankful this went more smoothly than when your friend Brad walked you home and Leon was waiting for you at your door.

Your mood dips as you gather your clothes to change into, remembering how angry Leon was and how he almost hurt Brad; you’re pretty sure there’s going to be a scar across his face, but you hope not. Leon was awful in that moment, attacking Brad like he was some sort of rabid dog.

Afterwards, he explained that he thought Brad was trying to hurt you, or worse, and he was only trying to look out for you—take care of you. You apologized profusely to Brad, but you haven’t heard from or seen him since that evening. Maybe you should check up on him after finals.

Entering the bathroom, you set your clothes down on the counter and look at yourself in the mirror. You press the bruise forming on your neck from Leon’s mouth, the twinge shooting straight to your cunt. Lips thinning, you tell yourself you’re going to have to set some boundaries with Leon. It’s the healthy thing to do.

Your mind flashes back to that night in the shower when Leon bruised your neck so badly you had to wear scarves for weeks on end. That dark look that came in his eyes as he held onto your neck still troubles you, but at the same time you think maybe you were just seeing things. He’s been nothing but a gentleman to you; being so sweet to wait on you, not saying anything about your flaky attitude as you keep canceling plans with him.

You sigh, moving over to the shower. You’ll just talk it out on your date tomorrow night and work everything out. No harm, no foul. Right?

The next day passes by in a blur; you turn in your assignments, head home a little early, and get ready to meet up with Leon later.

You dress modestly, a simple blouse and skirt with a pair of cute flats. In no time at all, Leon’s showing up at your door with a lovely bouquet of flowers. He waits for you by the door as you quickly put them in water, then follows you as you walk out, locking the door behind you two.

He opens the door for you and you climb into the front seat of his car. After he slides into the driver’s seat, he makes sure you’re buckled in before starting the car.

“Where are we going?” You watch him drum his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulls away from the curb.

“You’ll see,” he grins at you and winks.

Butterflies dance in your chest as you peer out the window, trying to mentally guess where he’s taking you. After several minutes of comfortable silence, you feel a knot of unease forming in your stomach as he drives out towards Lover’s Lane.

It feels like forever before he turns into an overgrown dirt road and eases the car down past a copse of trees. He drives a few more feet before parking the car and shutting off the engine.

“Thought it would be cute to take you to our first date,” he grins at you, eyes dark and watchful.

Taking in the thick foliage, you recognize the pull off Leon used so long ago to take you apart in his backseat. You can feel your pulse beating in your neck as you smile shakily at him.

“Oh, I, uh, didn’t realize you considered that our first date,” you laugh, hoping to ease the tension you’re feeling.

His eyes narrow at you, smile ticking up into something mean, “Of course, I would,” his voice drops into a low octave, “it was the first time I got to taste your sweet pussy.”

You feel flush and jittery, “O-oh.”

“Why so tense?” He brings his hand to brush back your hair, eyes tracking your expressions.

You try to smile but it falls flat, “Leon, w-we need to talk.”

“About?”

You take in a steady breath, “We need to set some boundaries. I’m j-just feeling a little smothered.”

He hums and you slowly let out your breath.

“Okay,” he nods.

You light up with a real smile, feeling proud of yourself, “Oh, so you understand? I—“

He returns your smile but it’s empty, making your belly swoop with fear, “No, baby. See, I’m only trying to take care of you, so I just don’t get how I’m smothering you?”

Your eyes widen as you press yourself against the door to face him better, “I m-mean you attacked my friend Brad outside of my house. Y-You scared off Laura when we were just chatting in the grocery store. You keep me from interacting with anyone!”

You pant, realizing in the ensuing silence how much you raised your voice. But you don’t care; you’re trying to make a point—make him understand your point of view.

“If we can’t agree on this,” you fidget and wring your hands, bile rising in your throat from nerves, “then I don’t know if I can see you anymore, Leon.”

He laughs then, loudly, tinging on crazed. You only stare at him, fear making your hands feel like static.

The laughing dies off and he stares at you almost fondly, “Stupid girl, you really think you’re going to leave me? We’re made for each other.”

He grabs your hands, staring into your eyes—his gaze manic.

“I just need to show you, teach you, that we’re meant to be. You’re my perfect girl. One I never thought I’d find in this shithole town,” he sighs, “and now you’re trying to leaveme?”

The grip on your hands tightens making you wince.

“I’m not going to let you leave me. You just don’t get that you’re mine. Mine to love, to take care of, to fuck stupid,” he’s squeezing your hands so hard now your joints creak, “but that’s okay, this is a teachable moment. I taught that sweet little mouth manners, that pretty little pussy to cum for me, so I can teach you this too.”

Anxiety flares in your chest even as you feel yourself getting turned on from his crude words.

“Leon—“

“No,” he growls, eyes sea dark and angry, “that’s not my name, pretty girl. Maybe I need to take you over my knee and start fresh.”

Your clit throbs as you clench down on nothing. At that moment, you’re truly torn between your want for Leon and having your line drawn in the sand. You feel like if you let him have his way, there won’t be any turning back.

“I-I’m sorry, I just want—“

“You don’t know what you want,” he coos, “but that’s okay, I can teach my dumb girl til she knows better.”

He lets go of your hands to pull you by the arms and in that split second your brain goes into fight or flight. You twist the door handle and fall out of the car backwards, landing on your ass. Quickly, you stand up to face Leon, who’s still sitting in the drivers seat, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“I’d think twice, sweetheart,” he warns, voice deepening, “don’t make me chase you.”

You feel a thrill of fear trickle down your spine as your heartbeat pulses in your cunt, making the gusset of your panties wet at the idea of Leon running after you.

You shake your head, feeling mixed up with all these conflicting ideas and emotions.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, turning to run back to the main road—away from Leon, awayfrom the hot arousal at being at his mercy, away from that dark part of you that likeshis obsessive nature.

While regretting your choice of a cute skirt and flats for tonight as you run, you hear a car door open and slam behind you. Your anxiety spikes again at the noise of his boots behind you. Leon’s footsteps are slow, but getting quicker and quicker until you know he’s running behind you—after you.

Another dark pulse of want flares in your body even as the anxiety blooms in your chest, making your fingers tingle and breathe quicken. Sadly, although you give it your all, you don’t make it that far. Leon’s broad form bear hugs you from behind making you lose your balance and trip.

Your knees sting as they break your fall, dirt and rocks digging into your skin. The adrenaline pumping in your body makes you lightheaded, veins thrumming with energy and endorphins.

Leon’s body is on top of yours, shoving you further into the wet leaf strewn ground. You hate that you love this, arousal rushing through you.

“Why are you acting like such a bitch?” He snarls in your ear, “all I’m trying to do is take care of you.”

Tears blur your vision as you arch your back, trying to buck Leon off of you.

“Stop! Please, I just want to go home,” you cry out.

“Baby,” he croons, “you should’ve thought of that before you wanted to act like a brat. Now, I’m gonna have to show you your place.”

You hiccup a sob, thrashing underneath his bulky build but not getting anywhere. Realizing you can’t move, your panties fill with slick as your clit throbs with want.

“You’re just making it worse for yourself,” he sighs, hot breath fanning the hair by your ear, “gonna just have to show you what I mean when I say you’re mine.”

You feel hot all over, pussy getting wetter at the thought of Leon taking you right here and now where anyone could see. To give yourself one last fighting chance, against him and yourself, you jerk your head back and feel it connect with his nose. He lets go of you with a low curse, hands going to his face on instinct. Trying to gain some sort of footing, you haphazardly crawl forward on your hands and knees, feet slipping on the foliage.

You get out from underneath Leon and try to stand up when you feel a large hand clamp down around your ankle.

“I don’t think so,” he growls, yanking you back towards him.

Fingers scrabbling at the dirt as he drags you backwards leaves cuts and scrapes across both palms. You’re crying harder now, snot leaking down your nose as you gasp for breath. Dark arousal curls in your belly, nipples tightening to hard points in your bra. He’s so strong that it takes very little to manhandle you back down, face first in the dirt and ass in the air.

“Just keep making this harder and harder on yourself,” he sighs, put out, like you’re some unruly child.

“Leon,” you whimper softly, “please.”

One of his calloused hands presses your neck down to keep your upper body still, “Let’s not move too much, okay?”

He squeezes down when you don’t answer, “Okay??”

“Okay!” You squeal, pain pinching your nerves making your rub your thighs together to alleviate the pulsing in your cunt.

“Good girl,” he mocks, dragging his free hand along your ribs to your hip and around to fondle your ass under your skirt.

“You’re sick,” you bite out, voice muffled, trying desperately to quell the want thrumming in your body.

“Oh I know I am, sweetheart,” he coos down at you, “but so are you.”

He cups your pussy with his palm, fingers rubbing your slit through your wet panties.

“Damn,” he chuckles derisively, “fucking leaking all over my fingers, pretty girl. Like when I get mean with you?”

You mewl as his fingers pinch your soaked clit.

“Mmm got you real hot for me,” he rumbles.

His fingers pause as he leans further over your body, “Say, I have an idea sweetheart.

“What would you think,” he taps his middle finger against your sensitive clit on every word, “if I raped this hot little cunt of yours? No one’s around to stop me, right?”

You moan, hands clawing at the dirt and drenching your panties further making him laugh in disbelief.

“What a nasty fucking girl,” he chuckles, “getting soaked at that.”

He slips his fingers past the band on your panties and trails his fingers across your leaking hole and up to rub your clit.

“Thought about it,” he muses out loud, fingers slipping back to press into your cunt, “just shoving my dick into your tight pussy whether you wanted it or not.”

You moan, the fight slowly leaving your body as he tells you about his sick fantasy, one that makes you clench on his fingers and drip down your thighs.

“Yeah,” he growls, scissoring open your hole with his middle and ring fingers, “you make it so easy too. Walking home alone all the time. Don’t even notice me tailing you, pretty girl.

“Can just sneak up on you, drag you down that little alley next to the library and fuck this tight cunt until I’ve had my fill,” he fucks his fingers up into your clenching hole, “just leave you a dripping, cum filled mess right in the alley.”

You suddenly clamp down hard around his fingers, eyelashes fluttering as the orgasm hits you fast.

He laughs at you, pulling his fingers from your drenched cunt, “So fucking nasty, knew you’d be perfect for me, just had to get you to see it.”

“Hope you learned your lesson, pretty girl,” he helps you to your feet, turning you to face him and pressing your back against the closest tree.

You jerkily nod your head, feeling wrung out like an old dish cloth.

“Good,” he pats your cheek, eyes dragging down your body taking in the state of your clothes.

“Looking a little messy there, baby,” he grins, pulling out his pocketknife.

Fear clogs your throat making you speechless.

“W-wha—“

He grabs the hem of your shirt and slices through the material, going from the bottom all the way up to your neck. The blouse falls open showing Leon your bra. He lifts it from you chest and slices through it too, breasts spilling out into the cool night air.

Leon pockets the knife and grabs your breasts, fondling them and pinching your nipples.

“Oh I hope you didn’t think we were through,” he smirks, eyes glinting in the dark, “gonna let you run one more time, sweet thing. If you get away, I promise to be a little less.. intense with you. But if I catch you, I’m gonna ravage this sweet pussy again and again.”

You whine, cunt feeling swollen and sore between your legs, “M-my legs— my knees hurt.”

He looks down and pouts, “Oh poor thing. Okay, how about this.”

He grabs you by the neck and presses you even tighter against the tree. Your hands scrabble against his forearm but he doesn’t budge.

“Let me try to rape this pussy,” his eyes are dark, voice deep, “fight me, bite me, scratch me, do everything you can to keep me from fucking you. Fight me hard enough and I’ll stop.”

He crowds against your body, hard nipples pressed against his shirt, “But if I feel you giving up, giving in, I’m gonna take you again and again on this dirty fucking ground til your swollen with my cum.”

You try your hardest against him. You bite, kick, scratch, spit (which he loved, spitting it back into your mouth making you wet), even clawing at his arms and back until you drew blood, but Leon still pins your weak body down on the ground.

He lays between your legs to lick and bite at your nipples until you’re thrashing in his grip.

“Aww tits too sore?” he grins at you, “too fucking bad.”

While his mouth concentrates on your breasts, he rips your skirt down your legs and tosses it away. You hear as he undoes his belt and unzips his pants. Using his hands, he wrenches your legs open and moves your panties to the side without slipping them off, feeding his cock into your dripping cunt.

“That’s it,” he groans as you punch his shoulders and try to kick him, “fight me, gets me so fucking hard.”

“Help!” You scream out, pressing your head back into the ground.

“Yes,” he groans, humping deeper into your silky heat.

“Help me please!” Your voice breaks on the last word, a low cry slipping out as Leon plays with your clit.

“Won’t be long, sweetheart,” he laughs at you, “got me really fucking worked up this time.”

You whine, tears slipping down your face, pussy clenching and milking his cock while he rubs your clit just the way you like.

“Please!” you cry out, no longer sure who you’re calling for.

“We should do this every date night,” he laughs, a low rumbling growl leaving his throat afterwards as you clamp down at that suggestion.

“Perfect, you’re so—,” he groans, “got me a nasty fucking slut.”

He spits on your mouth making you hiccup a moan, back arching. You let him tug your chin down so he can spit in your open mouth. You whine, tongue lolling out, silently begging for more.

“Fuck me,” he grits out, leaning over you to drool all in your mouth.

“Swallow it you little brat,” he rasps, eyes hungrily watching you as you do as he says.

He fucks into you a little deeper and grinds his fat tip against your cervix making you completely tense around him. He rubs harsh circles on your clit as he keeps grinding until you scream out and cream all over his cock, your slick making his thrusts easier.

“Yes, fuck yes,” Leon groans, letting himself cum inside you, hot jizz kissing the entrance to your womb as he fills up your cunt. He finally pulls out, painting the inside of your thighs white with the rest of his cum.

“You’re so dirty for me, pretty girl,” Leon praises, making you whine, “gonna slip right back in this sweet pussy.”

You keen, hole fluttering around nothing. He grabs your hip and twists you until you’re face down in the dirt, knees digging into the rough ground. Tilting your hips up higher, the fat head of Leon’s cock presses against your opening.

He slowly presses inside making you moan loudly—the angle stretching your pussy almost painfully. He finally bottoms out inside of you, the head of his dick kissing your cervix making you constantly clench around him.

“You can be such a good girl for me if you just learn to behave.”

“Leon,” you slur, drunk off the feeling of being so full.

A sharp smack lands on your ass, “My name’s not Leon right now. Don’t make me tell you again.”

You clench down at the sting, pussy eagerly milking the thick cock stretching you wide, “Daddy!”

“Such a tight hole,” he hisses.

Your legs spasm as your feet kick out, a low moan slipping from your lips.

“Mmm, you like that? Like knowing how tight you are?” He laughs down at you, one hand gripping your neck as the other grabs your hip.

He pulls out and thrusts back in, grinding against your cervix to make you squeal.

“Y-you’re gonna— my pussy’s— you’re gonna ruin my pussy—“ you’re drooling in the dirt, body held down as Leon uses you how he wants.

He growls, “Ruin your pussy? Fuck, baby. Yeah m’gonna ruin this sweet cunt for anyone else but me.”

Without realizing it, you press back, rolling your hips against his thrusting to make it easier for him to fuck you nice and deep.

“How does it feel getting your juicy little pussy raped in the middle of the woods, huh?” He coos, fake sympathy coloring his tone, “sounds like it feels good, sweetheart. Sounds like you like daddy raping your cute cunt.”

“Daddy,” you keen at the truth in his words, walls fluttering around his fat cock, “daddy, please.”

“Tell me,” he slows until he’s barely grinding into your squelching pussy.

“Feels good,” you whimper, tears dripping down your face, “feels good when daddy rapes my cute pussy.”

He laughs and smacks your ass a few times as he picks up the pace, humping his dick deeper into your cunt, “Yeah it does.”

Leon grabs your hair and pulls until your back’s flush with his chest. His other hand cups your jaw before dropping down to your neck and gripping tightly.

Gasping, you feel his hand tighten a fraction more causing you to drip at the sensation. Your hole greedily clenches down on the cock slowly fucking you into submission.

Leon gives a low growl, “Want me to make you my own personal hole, pretty girl?”

You press back eagerly onto Leon’s throbbing dick as he thrusts harder into your tight hole.

Leon nips at your earlobe, “Gonna breed this wet cunt til you’re full.”

You mewl pitifully, clit throbbing, “Daddy, daddy.”

He snarls and shoves you face down into the earth again. You can’t really see anything, completely pinned down by the hand on your neck.

However, you feel the thick cock stretching you, filling you more than you thought possible. You kind of hate it, hate feeling so full—so good. Your pussy clenches and spasms on his thick cock, slowly fucking into you. You feel yourself getting even wetter, easing the way for him to fill your hole over and over again.

Leon moans and grunts with each slow thrust inside your pussy, his deep baritone sliding over you leaving goosebumps in its wake.

He adjusts the angle and presses against your g-spot on every thrust, grinding against it making you moan loudly into the night air. The fat tip of his cock stretches your cunt so wide, it makes you clench tighter around his dick.

His hips stutter before he begins deep, rolling thrusts that has you drooling in pleasure. You feel so debased and it only makes it hotter. You want more. Want Leon to stuff you full—stretch you out on his fat cock, cum inside you until it’s dripping down your thighs.

“Daddy,” you mewl.

“Fuck,” he grits out, “don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck you good.”

You try to beg, but only whine in pleasure as his fingers caress your clit with light touches before gliding over your slick pussy lips, spreading you further open for him.

“Such a good girl.”

He starts a rougher tempo, pounding his cock into you with abandon. You know you’ll be bruised around your knees and hands where the dirt and rocks dig into your skin from being pinned to the ground. Your tits sway with each thrust of his fat cock in your squelching cunt, hard nipples grazing the forest floor. You want to shout—yell at him but only moans and pleas slip past your lips.

With a low tearing sound, you feel Leon rip off the rest of your panties leaving your pussy completely exposed. His hot hands caress what they can reach before grabbing handfuls of your ass to thrust harder, deeper into you.

“Always so good,” he groans, “love fucking your tight pussy.”

You begin to cum, pussy walls pulsing and clenching around the thick cock stretching you to your limits. Whining and moaning as your orgasm crests, Leon fucks into you harder—his fingers dipping between your legs to tease and pinch your clit.

“That’s it,” he grunts, “cum all over my cock, sweetheart. Get it nice and wet so I can fuck you hard. Breed this hot little cunt.”

Keening, you keep cumming as his fat cockchead rubs at your g spot and pounds against your cervix. The pain coalesces into pleasure making your eyes roll back.

“S’too much,” you slur, legs kicking from the overstimulation, “too much!”

Leon ignores you and rabbits his hips into your hot, wet pussy. You squirm, but he has you pinned with his strong arms so it only makes you whine as he rails you into the dirt, slick leaking down your thighs.

“Ready for me to fill you up, pretty girl?” he groans.

Without waiting for any answer, he buries his cock deep, shooting his thick load straight into your clenching pussy. You cum hard, body tensing all over, pussy walls eagerly milking his cock as rope after rope of hot cum fills you to the brim.

He keeps thrusting, cock spurting continually until he finally pulls his half hard dick out, cum trickling out of your swollen cunt and dribbling down your thighs.

His cock kicks and begins to fill out again at the sight, so he slides back into your willing hole.

“Yeah, going to keep you here. Breed you until your full,” he smirks to himself, “you love it, don’t you sweetheart?”

You moan at the feeling of him thrusting back into your cum filled pussy. His hands reach up to grope your tits, flicking your nipples roughly until your pussy pulses and clenches around his cock buried deep inside you.

You mewl and whine as he keeps twisting and pinching your sensitive nipples.

“Dirty little slut,” he rasps, slowing down to deep rolling thrusts so his cock drags against your fluttering pussy walls.

You moan, eyes watering, “Daddy, please.”

You try to squirm and move away from the overstimulation, but Leon holds you in place as he fucks your gooey cunt.

“Fuck, gonna cum again,” he chuckles meanly, moving his fingers down to flick and pinch your swollen clit, “pussy so good, gonna milk me dry.”

He cums in you again, just as your walls clamp down on his thick cock. You scream so loud it echoes back to you from the surrounding trees. Your pussy gushes out slick like a fountain as he fucks another hot load deep into your willing cunt.

Leon pulls out slowly and watches his jizz drip out of your spasming cunt and down over the swollen, fat lips of your pussy. He quickly flips you over onto your back and pushes his middle and index finger into your pulsing walls to rub against your g-spot.

“C’mon, squirt again, baby, really want you to soak me,” he bites down on your hip bone.

Your legs and arms are jello, no fight left in your body as Leon fingers your cunt. His other hand rubs circles into your clit while he slides three fingers in and out of your sore pussy.

You feel it slowly ramping up higher and higher, thighs trembling, “G’nna cum.”

Leon fucks his fingers up into your pussy even harder, nailing your g-spot until you’re screaming again and gushing slick from your hole. He keeps up the harsh pace, prolonging your orgasm and making you squirt over and over, soaking his jeans and shirt.

He gently eases up and slides his fingers out, giving your mound a light smack that has your hips jumping.

“Daddy,” you whine up at him, body buzzing and head empty, trying to pull him down, “kiss, please.”

He huffs a low laugh as he licks past your drooling lips, tongue fucking deep into your mouth. You lazily make out on the cold ground until you start to shiver. Leon slowly pulls away, a strand of spit connecting your swollen lips.

“Think we should go home, baby,” his eyes rove over your spent body, taking in the mess he made.

“Okay,” you whisper, voice shot and hoarse, “need help up.”

“I’ve got you,” he smiles crookedly, “I’ve always got you.”

You must be as sick as he says because instead of the usual anxiety, you feel a hot bolt of arousal shoot to your aching pussy.

“I know, Leon,” you sigh, feeling something settle disjointedly in your mind as he picks you up, “thank you.”

#corrupt cop!leon s kennedy smut #corrupt cop!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #corrupt cop!leon s kennedy #corrupt cop!leon #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #resident evil smut

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chickenparm · 4 months

Text

Name Tag (Wanderer/gn!Reader)

happy birthday, dude with hat

Wanderer/gn!Reader 1,390 Words - SFW (Reader is shy/nervous, first meetings sorta, subtle nahida plotting)

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The box crinkles in your hand, and you cringe at the sound.

The House of Daena is never fully silent. There are always people here, murmuring quietly amongst themselves, flipping pages, rolling book carts back and forth. It’s peaceful, but never totally still unless you sneak in during the early morning hours. Perhaps that’s a boon, that it hides that crinkling from the figure you’re spying on around the corner of a bookshelf.

This is foolish, you think. Not once have you shared words with him, but you’ve heard enough from others to find him impossibly intriguing. Like a crystalfly to the glowing Statues of the Seven, you’ve been inching ever closer to him, against your own logic. The box in your hands feels heavier with each moment that you procrastinate.

Peering around the shelf, you watch as he scratches something out on the roll of paper in front of him, his lips downturned in an obvious sneer. Gone are the blue and white fabrics he adorns himself with typically - today he wears the typical garb of an Akademiya scholar, one loose sleeve bunched around his elbow as he props it on the table, his chin on his palm.

The tip of his pinky curls in at the corner of his lip, and for just a moment you see him bite the nail before thinking better of it and lifting his head from his hand. Enraptured, you watch as he pinches at his chin in open thought before writing something quickly, then setting down the pen.

His eyes are pretty, you think shamelessly. Purple like Viparyas, always focused, sharp as a knife. They shift as he reads, then they close and he sighs before opening them to look directly at you, expression expectant and somewhat vexed. “Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to tell me what you want?”

You want nothing, or at least that’s what you want to protest to him, but instead all you can do is nearly squeak as you duck back around the bookshelf and hold the box even tighter. You can do this, it’s fine. A few weeks ago, you were able to get an audience with the Dendro Archon, and despite her initial surprise, she’d been exceptionally forthcoming and excited to direct you in this single endeavor.

He’s lonely, the Lesser Lord told you as if it were some secret. Maybe it is, for he doesn’t look as if he longs for anyone’s presence. But when you questioned her, she’d held up her hand to cup next to her mouth and whispered to you, “Give him time, be persistent.”

This is the first step. The next ones will be easier, you try to assure yourself as he makes an annoyed tsk from where he sits out of your sight now. Taking a breath, you square your shoulders and turn to step around the shelf. Looking at him doesn’t make it easier, but this is preferable to lurking outside his periphery and wondering what could be.

At least this way, you know.

With shaking steps, you approach him with the box and stand opposite him at his claimed table. He looks at you, then the box, and his brows furrow together. “Another gift? I already told you guys I don’t want anything from you.”

You guys? You stammer for a moment, then shake your head and gingerly set the box down. “I-I’m not a part of whatever else you received today. This is just me. Please, accept this, and whatever you do with it after, I won’t be offended. As long as my well-wishes are received.”

The final two sentences are ones you’d rehearsed in the mirror all this morning, and you’re thankful that they come out smoothly. He looks at the box warily, then blows a sigh through his nose that you can hear. He wants you to know that he’s annoyed, but his hands reach for the box anyway.

There’s a tag on it, and thin fingers reach to read it, likely expecting the name that the other students and scholars had pinned him with. Instead, he pauses, face falling to neutrality.

You don’t like that name much. It feels almost impersonal, like a hand-wave of whatever identity he may have beyond his appearance. You’d instead opted for a messy doodle of the ornament he wears even now, pinned to his chest with the glow of his vision visible through his robes. It’s not your best work, but it’s unique to him despite you having no name to go off of.

To your surprise, he doesn’t crumple the little drawing. In fact, he carefully unties it from the box and sets it to the side, on the stack of books he’d been using today. Is he going to… keep it? Your skin feels warm at the prospect, perhaps putting too much stock into something so simple.

It takes him a painfully long amount of time to open the box. Only a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity until he lifts the lid and peers inside. He says nothing for a long, long time.

Nervous, you fill the silence with your own stumbling explanation. “I-if you don’t like it, that’s okay. I just thought maybe…” you trail off, because your confidence is waning with his lack of reaction. Good or bad, you don’t mind, as long as he gives you something.

Carefully, he reaches in, pulling out a metal tin with Inazuman script stamped on it. There are other items in the box - accessories and tools to prepare the gift itself for consumption. He turns the tin in his hand, thoughtful as you explain, “It’s tea. You like bitter tea, right? That’s what Lesser Lord Kusanali said when I–”

Your words die as your embarrassment blooms. You hadn’t meant to tell him you’d been sniffing around for information to make sure your gift was something he’d at least accept. Those sharp eyes dart up to look at you, fingers frozen in their turning of the tea to read the labeling. Slowly, he asks, “You asked her about me?”

No getting out of it. Taking a shaking breath, you nod, then decide that you’re in too deep to clam up now. “I wanted to get to know you– I mean, get to know what you’d like. So I could bring a good gift. That’s all. Happy birthday.”

Your sentences are short and clipped, tacked on as if to bandage the situation you’ve surely ruined by letting him think you’re a fool. He didn’t need to know that you had any intentions beyond just a gift, he didn’t need to know that you wanted to know him. More than just some figure you pass on the street or see writing out his frustrations for Vahumana in the corners of the House of Daena.

The sole of your shoe squeaks as you turn abruptly to make your exit and beat yourself up over this in the secluded privacy of your own dorm, far from any prying eyes. But you don’t even manage to follow through on taking a single step before he says quietly, “Sit down.”

You do. Mutely, and feeling stunned, but you do.

Your hands lace together in your lap, clenching one another to hide the way they’re shaking with some odd mixture of anticipation and absolute terror. You didn’t think this was where this was going. Is he upset? Did you overstep by asking the Archon herself for the wisdom she holds about this mysterious guy?

The tin doesn’t make a sound as he sets it back in the box. The lid makes a tiny hiss from air escaping as he replaces it. The paper of the tag whispers against the cover of the book he set it on as he picks it up and examines it again. It's more silent in the House of Daena than it ever has been before, or maybe it's the blood rushing in your ears that drowns out the sound of anyone else existing within this space. It's just you, and him, and the box sitting between you that holds your hopes far more than any gift you could have fit inside.

He looks at the paper thoughtfully, then at you, and quietly tells you the name you can call him by.

#wanderer #scaramouche #scara #genshin #genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #gn!reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #xreader #reader-insert #reader insert

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dustykneed · 4 months

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OKAY YALL. jim totally has movie nights/show watching nights with bones and spock (jim's captain's quarters have this big retractable screen meant for conference calls or viewing ship logs but obviously it also effectively doubles as a giant tv screen!!) and it basically turns into sleepover night where they have fun doing the fun kiddy shit they deserve (after bones and jim nearly started brawling after jim wiped the floor at monopoly via "underhanded GODDAMN tactics" according to bones, spock has made a note never to attempt to bring up monopoly on movie nights EVER AGAIN)

but also consider: pre-slash spones watching a show and arguing about favourite characters ("Your parameters for selecting a 'favourite character' are most illogical, Doctor." "Favouritism is favouritism, Spock! I couldn't give a rat's ass about goddamned logic!") but agreeing that their favourite chars would make a great couple ("It would be illogical to deny the high compatibility of these characters. One might be inclined to infer that their opposing characteristics may in fact be complementary and hence conducive to an optimal relationship." "By God, just say that ya think they look good together, Spock!") EXCEPT THEIR FAVOURITE CHARACTERS ARE BASICALLY THEMSELVES RESPECTIVELY lmao

jim is sitting next to them on the couch watching them argue shaking his head like it is So obvious ya doofuses GET TOGETHER ALREADY

until this new character (extremely jim-coded) is introduced in the next season who has shockingly intense chemistry with each of the bones/spock coded chars individually. Which starts a whole ship war between bones and spock, who, ironically, ship the other's character with the new one, and go ham on trying to prove (quoting scenes, acting choices, prop choices, even theorising about behind-the-scenes agendas) that they're right about their ship. jim thinks it's absolutely fucking hilarious seeing his best friends come extremely close to duking it the fuck out on his couch over FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, GUYS, COME ON. all the while bones and spock are losing their fucking minds because occasionally their own favourite characters will have Moments and they'll go insane trying to figure out which ship is definitively endgame. they have a bet going that whoever has their ship sunk will have to hand over a quarter of their lab time to the victor and act as assistant while the other uses the time to work on their own experiments.

jim thinks it's the funniest thing he's ever seen- UNTIL ON THE LAST EPISODE OF THE SEASON ALL THREE CHARACTERS GET TOGETHER. jim (who has Known how much the character dynamics reflected the triumvirate themselves all along) is completely fucking speechless and has a huuuuge epiphany about his own feelings for spock and bones. meanwhile bones (speechless with pure unfettered rage both at the fact that technically he was wrong but also HOW COULD HE NOT HAVE SEEN THIS BEFORE???) and spock (kicking himself mentally for not having considered this possibility previously) are about to argue (all while jim is spiralling lmfao) when the bones-coded character says something like "huh. I guess we were so focused on trying to pair up that we forgot we worked best together as a trio." and bones starts to Get It, and then spock also starts to Get It, and they turn to jim, who gets that they Get It, and begins to giggle hysterically, and it is so contagious that bones starts to die of laughter and even spock cracks a chuckle.

Later, when they're all lying in jim's giant bed sleepy and happy and satisfied, cuddled together and cozy as hell, jim tells them that he's sorta known they (spones) would get together like in the show all along but he doesn't know how he didn't figure out where he came into the equation until now when it was so obvious!! and bones tells him he thinks he had always loved jim and spock but for some reason it took months and months of ship wars to see it (lol) which he's definitely glad for despite the high blood pressure every time he and spock would argue. and spock presses a kiss to the corner of jim's mouth and two fingers to bones' own, and whispers that for once, he agrees fully with leonard on the matters of their new favourite ship. jim doesn't think he's ever grinned that wide in his entire fucking life.

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hqbaby · 8 months

Text

sixteen — this is real

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.5k content. swearing, pretty tame tbh

him: wanna come over tonight?

y/n the love of my life: sorry!! got plans

Suna can’t help the frown that takes over his features as he stares at your message. It’s not a big deal. You’ve turned him down before, this isn’t anything special. In fact, this is completely normal. Did he really expect you to drop everything going on in your life for him? Of course not.

Logic doesn’t stop it from bothering him though. The truth is that he hasn’t been alone with you since you left him that one night. Sure, he sees you around friends but you never really talk because you’re not supposed to be this close. Sure, it’s only been four days since that night but still. It unsettles him, it makes him feel like he doesn’t know where the two of you stand.

“Sorry, Bo, I got plans with Y/N tonight.”

Suna’s head shoots up to find Atsumu grinning at their teammate. What?

Bokuto waves it off. “No biggie, bro!” he says. “Say hi to her for me.”

“Will do.” Atsumu closes his locker and turns to look at Suna. “Ya good, man?”

So he’s your “plans,” Suna thinks. It makes him want to hurl. He hates it.

“Yeah,” he manages to say, already sprinting out of the locker room. “I’m fine.”

He’s not fine. He feels like he’s burning from inside out at the thought of you ditching him for Atsumu. Fucking Atsumu. Don’t you know that he used to cry after science exams? That he had to take his driving test four times? That he and Osamu once spent an entire week finishing a 10,000 piece puzzle while everyone else thought they had died?

Suna slams his head on his steering wheel. It doesn’t matter if you know any of that. All that matters is that you’re choosing Atsumu. Instead of him.

He pulls his phone out and starts typing a message to some girl who gave him her number at a party. She wouldn’t say no to him. He knows she wouldn’t. And that’s why he can’t bring himself to send the message, why he throws his phone on the passenger seat and drives back home instead of doing anything stupid.

Kiyoko reaches her leg out and pokes you with her toe. “What’s up with you?”

You glance up from the lab report you’re working on, bemused. “With me?” you ask. “Not much, dude. What about you?”

She gives you a knowing look. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Am not!”

“You’re withholding gossip!” she accuses, grinning as she points a finger at you. “Come on! I need to know what’s going on!”

You put your laptop away. “Nothing’s going on!” you tell her, but there’s a smile in your voice that says otherwise. “Well, nothing too crazy at least.”

“Tell me!”

You start laughing as your roommate hops onto your bed, grabbing one of your pillows while she looks at you eagerly. “It’s really nothing,” you say. “‘Tsumu just kinda sorta… asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are,” she says. “Because if he actually did that, you wouldn’t be seeing him tonight.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you said no to him. You’re nice, you don’t string guys along after you turn them down.”

You stare at her. She stares at you. You stare at her. She cocks her head to the side. You give a small nod.

“Holy shit!” she exclaims. “You said yes?!”

“Not yet!”

“Yet?!”

You’re laughing as she tries to tackle you. “Dude, chill!” you say. “We don’t know what’s gonna happen!”

She shakes her head, hands on your shoulders as she rattles you around. “You have to tell me,” she says, leaning close enough to make her already-wide eyes look wider, “do you love him?”

“I don’t know!” you say, pushing her away.

You furrow your brows at the words that fall out of your mouth. You were supposed to say no. Why didn’t you say no?

“You don’t know?”

“Are you using me as an excuse to avoid your homework?” you ask in an attempt to change the subject.

“Doesn’t matter!” she says. “Wait. What about Suna?”

You wince.

The truth is that you don’t know what’s going to happen with Suna. You’ve been avoiding him ever since the night that you decided not to stay over. You still see him when you hang out with his friends and go visit his team, but you never talk to him, sticking to your usual polite-but-not-close relationship in public.

It’s been eating you alive and you don’t really know why. You’re going to have to talk to him eventually, about Atsumu, about everything. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but for some reason, it feels like it is. Why?

“If I say yes to Atsumu,” you say carefully, “I guess things with Rin will be over.”

It hits you as soon as you say it.

Over.

It seems so final, so unnecessary. Surely, there’s a better way to do this. This can’t be it.

Kiyoko looks thoughtful, like she’s considering her words very carefully. Then, she asks, “How do you feel about that? You know, ending things with Suna.”

You shrug. This time you know you mean it when you say, “I don’t know.”

You’re sitting in Atsumu’s car with your head leaned against the window. You haven’t planned anything special tonight, just eating take-out and driving around. Normally, you’d be talking each other’s ears off, but you can’t seem to focus right now.

Ever since your talk with Kiyoko that afternoon, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about Suna. It bugs you more than you know it should and that only makes it worse.

“Yer quiet tonight,” Atsumu says. His voice isn’t accusatory or harsh, like he’s just making an observation. “Somethin’ botherin’ ya?”

You chew your bottom lip and fiddle with the straw of your drink. “Yeah. Just a little.”

He hums. “Do ya wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know if I can,” you tell him quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” Atsumu says, glancing over to give you a reassuring smile. He finds a spot near the lake on campus and parks nearby. “We can talk about anythin’ ya want. Or not. We can just sit here and eat. That’s okay too.”

He turns the engine off and rolls the windows down, the autumn air drifting in. There are a few other people in the area, groups of friends daring each other to dive into the lake and couples talking or getting into arguments. It’s a night like any other and, as you sit there eating and listening to the playlist you and Atsumu put together, you know you wouldn’t mind spending more of your time like this.

“Have you ever had to let something go?”

The question just falls out of you. It fills the gaps in the air like it was always meant to be there. Like it was something you were always meant to ask.

“Anythin’ in particular?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink.

You look out the window and see a girl, soaked to the bone, walk out of the lake before chasing after her friends.

“A person,” you say, “after you realized that you wanted different things.”

“Yer not talkin’ ‘bout me are ya?” His tone is teasing.

You shake your head and smile at him. “No.”

You catch the way he looks at you. His gaze is soft and warm and kind. It makes you feel like you’re all that matters to him at this moment. Like the rest of the world is just static.

The only other person who ever looked at you that way was Suna and he only noticed when he was inside you in one way or another.

It feels different when Atsumu does it. It makes you feel like you matter just by existing.

“So,” you say, trying to stop yourself from focusing too much on the look on his face, “have you ever had to let someone go?”

He considers your question for a moment. “I have,” he tells you. “‘Samu actually.”

That catches you off-guard. The twins are absolutely inseparable, as far as you know. “‘Samu?”

“Yeah.” He nods, getting into it now. “In highschool I thought that we were gonna do volleyball together forever. I couldn’t imagine a world where I’d have to go at it without ‘im, but that’s what happened.

“I was so mad.” He chuckles, clearly recalling a fond—or maybe not so fond—memory. “We got in a big fight and… it wasn’t pretty.”

You nod along, the story distracting you from any thoughts of Suna. “What happened?”

Atsumu sighs. “I had to get used to it,” he tells you. “We had different dreams and it wasn’t right that I pushed mine on ‘im. It wasn’t ‘Samu’s job to change and I wasn’t bein’ fair to either of us by thinking he would.”

He offers you a smile, all boyish and a little shy. He knows the vulnerability should irk him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s talking to you. Not when you’re looking at him all nice and understanding and so fucking gorgeous.

You lean over the console and kiss him. It’s short and sweet but it means everything to the two of you.This is real, you tell yourself. You don’t know much else but you know that this—you and Atsumu and all the little spaces in between, this—is as real as you’re going to get.

notes. THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM *mic drops and runs for the hills*

#hqbaby.fyi #hqbaby #haikyuu #suna rintarou #suna #suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou fic #suna fic #miya atsumu fic #atsumu fic #haikyuu fic

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sushiwriterhere · 6 months

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open note

summary: your shoulders won't stop aching and Nanami sits across from you at the cafe | 3.1k warnings: nanami x reader 18+, reader is (lightly) cursed, PiV (unprotected), nanami follows reader around sorta (for protection purposes), oral (f receiving) notes: this is my first jjk fic, pls let me know what u think <3 (to all my tg fans.. hope u can forgive me). not sure who to tag but i hope if u read u enjoy!

It’s late. The letters on the screen blur as you try to keep reading–you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been sitting here, trying to slog through your latest assigned reading. It’s not usually like this for you, like pulling teeth or climbing up ten flights of stairs, usually law school feels like a blessing.

Everyone warned you about competitive peers and cutthroat curves, but instead you found a community of people who shared your passion for the law and didn’t find it odd that you could launch into a twenty-minute rant about the poorly designed logic of originalism at any moment. It was comforting to feel like you’d found your place in the world, to feel like you’d found your path. Was, being the operative word here.

Lately everything felt heavy, felt, off balance. Some days, you stayed in bed until you were sure you would miss the bus to your lecture hall, only to make it by some grace of god, half disheveled and not sure you’d brought everything you needed. Some days, your apartment was too quiet, the one-bedroom you’d always longed for feeling more suffocating than the freeing space you’d needed it to be. You’d smile at your peers but gently reject invites for drinks or group study at the law library, citing your internship or a family call, but really, you just couldn’t bring yourself to spend more time than you already were in other peoples’ presence.

Your only bright spot is Nanami. Every week, without fail, at least three times a week, you find yourself sitting across from him at the cafe down the street from your apartment complex. It’s an odd, unspoken arrangement. The cafe had been crowded one Thursday morning and he’d wordlessly stood behind the chair across from you before sitting after you’d nodded once. He always orders the same thing, a hot Americano–though he’s taken to sliding a muffin across to you ever so often.

Sometimes you think that when he looks at you, he’s the only person who can really see you. Other times it feels like he’s almost looking right past you, like he’s trying to make out the face of someone far over your shoulder.

Even so, it is a tender set of interactions that buoys you throughout the week, until you find yourself sitting in front of Nanami at a quiet restaurant. Whatever you’ve ordered at random is savory and tender, and pairs beautifully with the wine he chose. It’s also exactly what you would’ve picked.

The candlelight illuminates his face in a way that throws his features into stark relief, masculine, chiseled, and so beautiful. He’s saying something, and you wish you could put your hand on his chest to feel the rumble of the baritone you know is there. You think it might ground you in a way you haven’t felt in a while. You feel like you’re watching the entire interaction outside yourself.

Then he’s paying the bill and pulling out your chair, taking you by the hand as he walks you to the coat check. You let him slip your jacket over your bare shoulders, missing the way the way he stiffens when his fingers brush your bare skin. Everything feels so far away then, and you almost stumble out the door.

You move your lips to form words, to thank him for the meal, the company, the kindness, but you can’t. The world is foggy and somewhere between your shoulder blades is a deep, aching sort of pain.

I should see a chiropractor, you think to yourself, wondering if all your time laying on your side looking out your apartment windows has finally caught up to you.

Standing in front of you, Nanami considers you. But he’s not looking at you, instead he’s looking at the curse curled across your shoulders. It’s small, but that doesn’t matter–he sees the way it pulses with a dense cursed energy. If he strains his senses, he can pick up on its scent, the almost acrid stench.

It’s been feeding on you for a while now–he first spotted you from across the crowded cafe you both frequent–a small thing at first. He hadn’t wanted to startle you by trying to exorcize it in the middle of that crowded room. Instead, he sat across from you, made friends, even?

Despite the curse, he enjoyed your presence. You had gentle features, smelled nice, and your brow furrowed whenever you were thinking particularly hard about something until you would reach up to smooth a few fingers over your brow as if push the wrinkle away. The feelings were on accident, really. He’d just wanted to keep an eye on you, make sure the curse wasn’t giving you too much trouble.

After that he’d learned too much about you in his effort to ‘keep you safe’–

(“Nanami, where are you off to at this hour?” Nanami ignored the other man as he pulled on his jacket.

He’d spent a few minutes too many indulging in a hot cup of coffee, now he was going to be late if he didn’t hurry. You always got off the bus at this hour, and the curse was starting to really settle in. He didn’t like the faraway look you had in your eyes as you walked; he wasn’t sure you’d notice someone following you or coming up behind you. You hadn’t noticed him yet.

Gojo really couldn’t help himself, he was too nosy for his own good. Which was why Nanami couldn’t tell him, rather, refused to tell him about you. But he was running out of excuses and Gojo was getting particularly good at delegating, so he was spending more time than ever hanging around looking for someone to bother.

“Lock the door behind me.” Was all he said in response, cutting off the other sorcerer’s garbled protests.)

Now, standing across from you, he sees a beautiful woman being drained of her life as a filthy curse digs its talons into you.

Against his better judgment, Nanami steps forward towards you. In the restaurant, the candle light lit your face from below. Here, the street lights are above, emphasizing the darkness under your eyes. You haven’t been sleeping.

Your eyes are glossed over when you look up at him, but you place your hands on his chest, his dress shirt dimpling under your fingertips. Rising on your toes, your hands smooth over his shoulders. Something curls pleasantly in his chest at the way your eyes widen when your hands find his muscles.

His hands find their way to your hips, slipping underneath the coat that you didn’t bother to button.

The curse thrashes angrily the closer Nanami gets. He ignores it. He can smell the perfume you put on you dotted on your wrists, the insides of your elbows, and it makes something twist in his gut. It’s a startling realization to understand that you want someone’s smell on your sheets for the rest of your life.

You watch as Nanami turns his head, nose dragging across the sensitive inner side of your forearm to dot a kiss in the crook of your elbow. It sends a shiver down your spine at the same time as the pain intensifies in your back. Your knees buckle as he catches you.

Nanami carries you home. He picked a place close to you just in case he needed to get you alone (not like that) to rid you of the curse. You’re lucid enough to push your purse into his chest so he can fish the keys out and unlock the front door.

The inside of your apartment is as much the one-bedroom of a law student as he’d imagined it. There’s a desk by the window with textbooks stacked on one side, and one open in the middle. Highlighters of every color are arranged neatly next to it, a stack of cutesy sticky notes tying everything together.

“Can you stand?” His voice rumbles in his chest next to your ear, and for a few moments you’re free of pain and that ache, like some sort of noise therapy effect.

You let him stand you upright until, in a flash, your breath is stolen from you.

What did he just do to me? Who did I let into my house? You think in a moment of panic until you realize your back doesn’t hurt anymore.

Nanami’s staring at you, a tender look in his eyes. One of his large, warm, hands is gripping your shoulder over your coat, and it grounds you.

In a moment, your lips are on his. Maybe it’s the way he carried you back to your apartment, maybe’s it’s the way he’s been sitting across from you for three months now, steadily buying you sweets and paying for your coffees and teas. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s so tall, and so broad, and he looks at you like you hung the fucking moon.

You hang on to the lapels of his coat as his mouth works furiously against yours. Weaving one hand into his hair, you clutch with the other at his shoulders for dear life as he pulls you into him. He’s got one hand cupping your face, the other around your waist.

Suddenly you feel so full of life and you want him, desperately. You go to throw off your coat but he pulls back for just a moment.

“Are you sure?” The mere tone of his voice does something indescribable to you, and you nod furiously as you tear off the garment.

He shoulders off his coat as well and toes out of his dress shoes as he walks you backwards into the nearest wall. You groan in appreciation as he noses down your jawline, behind your ear, to the dip at the base of your neck.

A shiver tears down your back as you realize he’s smelling you, inhaling the perfume you put on earlier. You pant as he just holds you there, taking you in. The tip of his nose is slightly too cold in contrast with the warm softness of his lips that follow.

“Nanami,” you try, gripping at his shoulders for dear life as he goes to kneel before you. You want his lips on yours, want to taste the wine you both drank earlier from his mouth.

“Patience,” He murmurs as he takes one of your legs over his broad, broad, shoulders and you keen, high, reedy, in the back of your throat at the way his teeth scrape at your inner thigh.

You feel more alive than you have in six months and he wants you to wait? With everything in you you want him to hurry and fuck you, to feel the weight of him in you and around you in your bed, to have him tangled in your sheets. And yet he takes his time.

Nanami is a patient man. He knows what it is to bide your time for the good things–he used to be a salaryman after all. He has waited for this moment. The part of him that sympathizes with what you must be feeling right now, the surge of energy after the months of being drained like a maple tree. But though ever patient, Nanami knows what he wants.

What he wants is exactly this–tugging your damp panties to the side with a crook of his fingers, tilting his head up and forward to lick up your center and to taste you. What he wants is to keep hearing the sounds you’re making, the sighs and staccato’d ah-ah-ah’s you can’t hold back as he sucks insistently on your clit. What he wants is to keep feeling the way you hug his two fingers, hot, and wet, and so tight and fluttering.

You tremble against the way he leans against you, keeps you up against the wall. You’ve had people go down on you in your time, you’re in your late 20s not dead. But none of them have done this–have eaten you out like it’s for them, and not you.

Nanami stays where he is til your hands twist painfully in his hair, til you’re shaking with overstimulation after cumming so hard you think you might’ve blacked out for just a moment.

Your chest rises and falls quickly, yet in the most tantalizing way, as your nipples strain against the satin fabric stretched over your chest. Your eyes are wild and your cheeks are flushed as he leans in to kiss you ever so gently, only bothering to wipe his chin with the sleeve of his dress shirt so it doesn’t drip onto his chest.

He has to wear that home tomorrow, you think to yourself, and something curls almost painfully in your chest from arousal.

One by one, you open the buttons of his shirt as he kisses you intently. He runs his tongue along your teeth as you tug the bottom of it out of his slacks and his fingers tighten on your waist as you unbutton his pants and stick your hand in his briefs. God. He’s heavy and thick and hot in your hand, and you think you can feel his pulse from the way he throbs in your grip.

He grunts softly when you slide down his length only to tighten your grip and twist your wrist. There’s not much room between the two of you, not with the way he’s pressed up against you, but you make an effort anyways.

“Take me to bed, Nanami.”

So he does. He pulls himself away from your reach with a final peck, before grabbing your thighs and picking you up. It’s a certain sort of primal attraction you feel at the effortless way he carries your weight and sets you down ever so gently on your sheets. At this angle, you have the perfect view.

His shirt, untucked and unbuttoned reveals a trim waist and a broad, muscular chest. The one you’d felt earlier. His slacks are tented and there’s a small damp patch just to the left of the middle seam. He flexes his hands once before kneeling before you once again. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch as he slides your heels off one by one, ever so gently.

You’d forgotten you were wearing them.

As he shrugs his shirt off, you twist yourself around so you’re sitting on your heels, so you can pull your dress up and over your shoulders. His pants are halfway down his thighs when you reemerge and then you two are frozen in a momentary staring contest.

Nanami doesn’t think he’s gawking per se, but his gaze isn’t innocent by any means. Your satin dress is pooling off one arm, no longer framing your figure just so. Your nipples are hard and he thinks your tits might be the perfect size to fit in his palms (he’ll have to find out). Your panties are lace trimmed, and although Nanami of ten years ago might’ve rolled his eyes (“I’m going to take them off anyway.”), the man before you swallows dryly. The eroticism of watching you undress cannot be overstated.

He finishes pulling off his slacks to give himself a distraction. You’re so beautiful it makes his chest ache, especially now that you’re not weighed down by grief and anger and sadness.

You’ve made your way to the edge of the mattress by the time he stands to his full height again. Your hands are warm and soft against his skin as you explore the planes of his chest, scratching softly at the waistband of his briefs. You press a kiss to his sternum and something terrible blooms right underneath his skin.

He leans down to press you into the bed so he doesn’t have to dwell on that for too long. Below him you’re soft and warm and so responsive. You sigh into his mouth when he drags a fingertip over your nipples, when he rocks his hips into yours.

Eventually he rids himself of his briefs, and you wiggle out of your panties, an excited look gracing your features. He pretends it doesn’t affect him the way it does.

When he finally sinks into you, he thinks he can’t breathe. It’s not some overwrought metaphor about being inside you it’s about being with you. You’re here with him, after he took you to dinner, carried you home, got rid of the curse. It’s you who’s moaning his name, scraping your nails across his shoulders and back.

You’re tilting your hips up into his, gasping in pleasure, whispering filthy sweet nothings– “Been thinking about this since I first saw you–” “Feels so good, Nanami, you feel so good–” “Only want you like this–”

He finishes with a punched out groan and he feels the way you clench around him at the sensation. A hand slips between you two and he finds your clit again with his fingers, determined to get you off again. It’s only fair.

Your face contorts in pleasure as you finish again, and the way you bear down on him makes his head spin. He holds himself above you as you both come down, resting his forehead against yours and trying to catch his breath–certainly not from physical exertion.

When he pulls out, when he goes to stand, to find something to clean you up, make you comfortable for sleep, you catch him by the wrist.

“Stay.” Is all you say, smiling softly at him. It’s so much closer to how Nanami imagined you’d looked before the curse, without its weight on your shoulders that he thinks he might be sick.

And stay he does. He cleans you up tenderly then coaxes you into the bathroom so you can wash your face and brush your teeth. He follows your instructions dutifully on where to find a clean pair of sheets and hangs your dress up back inside the first empty garment bag he spots inside your closet.

Nanami lets you press a toothbrush into his palm, lets you peck his lips with your lip mask on, and push him toward the bathroom with a smile. He made the bed. Your dress is hanging in the closet.

It’s painfully domestic and nurturing in a way you maybe didn’t expect from someone who bed you on the first date. But then again, you’d wanted him to. (The underwear, the perfume–men.)

When you finally watch him climb into bed next to you, you’re more than satisfied by the way he tugs you into his arms and just holds you. There’s no pretense, no motive, nothing other than wanting to hold you and feel your skin on his. You feel lighter than you have in months.

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