Summary: Terzo takes a step back from guiding you in the ritual, but he fails to tell you why. He sends his Ghouls to you instead - luckily for you, those Ghouls know just what you need to forget about Papa Emeritus III. If even just for a moment...
Rating: Mature, MDNI 18+
Word Count: 8.3k
Warnings: Angst, threesome, fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting, p in v sex, double penetration, some m+m elements (potentially a sexual awakening...), double creampie, mind break, cum eating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation
AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
A/N: Just popping here to say again, the Ghouls all have silver masks and are trainees under Terzo's reign for the time being. I don't know Terzo's Ghouls well enough to be able to write their characters. Thank you for understanding - Enjoy!🖤
Prev: Day 5 - Envy | Next: Day 7: Pride
October 30th
What a fucking idiota.
Terzo reprimanded himself as he stood in the doorway to his office. After a night of sleeplessness, tossing and turning with images of you screwing his half-brother or Satan-forbid, your tear-stained cheeks he’d missed when you watched him railing Christine in front of you, he was exhausted. It was karmic, and he knew that. He deserved it.
He stared at the chairs in front of his desk, reliving the events of yesterday. He knew the mistakes he’d made, and he wasn’t sure how to make up for them. But Primo had been extremely useful and given him direction, at least for now. He would be taking a step back; you didn’t need him to complete your goal.
“Good morning, Papa,” Christine greeted from behind him, somewhat hesitantly as if she knew of his fragile state of mind. Terzo jumped even at that, turning his head as if shaken from a dream.
“Oh, uh... sì, buongiorno,” he dismissed her, stepping into his office and heading for his desk. Christine gingerly followed him in, standing between those damn chairs and the door.
“Did, um... Did you talk to Sister ____?” she asked, worry in her tone.
Terzo was instantly transported back to the moment he’d found you in Copia’s workshop, walking into... that.
“Um... not exactly,” he sighed. Sister Christine rolled her eyes.
“Papa, seriously? You can’t just hide with your tail between your legs, you should-”
“She was a little busy,” he interrupted, sternly. “Don’t worry, Christine. I got what was coming to me.”
Christine’s brows furrowed in confusion, her shoulders sagging in defeat. She saw the pained look on his face, how different he looked today. His face looked puffy with a lack of sleep, his paints thinly applied and not to the usual crisp standard. Even his hair wasn’t styled so neatly, parting in the middle and falling over his forehead. She wasn’t sure what had happened when he’d gone to find you yesterday, but she also knew she shouldn’t ask.
“O-okay... Well, Sister Imperator left a note for you on my desk this morning,” Terzo didn’t hide the groan of disdain at the mention of Imperator, “I know, I know... She requires your assistance in setting up the Great Hall for the All Hallow’s Ball tomorrow. Apparently, your opinions on decorative party supplies are a necessity.”
“Va bene, (Okay,) I’ll go soon. I just need to do something first... Would you leave me?” he asked.
“Of course,” she nodded with a sympathetic smile, and left him to his own solitude.
Terzo dug around his desk for his stationary set, pulling out a clean parchment and his expensive ink pen, and began to write...
Sorella ______,
I have every belief you can finish this on your own. You do not need my assistance, or my guidance. With just two sins left, I’m positive you can achieve what you wish for.
Enjoy the Ball tomorrow evening.
Papa Emeritus III
He had hoped his belief in you would shine through his brief note. Apologies felt like an insult to your intelligence, and any kind of confession of feelings felt too distracting to your task at hand. This would have to do.
He folded the parchment, sealing it with a fresh wax seal, and got up to leave, heading towards the Great Hall. He would hand the note to one of his Ghouls on his way and ask them to drop it off, leaving you to complete whichever of the two sins you chose today in peace, and without his interference.
He owed you that much, he thought.
The knock at your door that morning startled you, completely unexpected. A part of you, childishly, hoped that it was him... Maybe he’d come to apologise, giving you an opportunity to do the same. Hell, even if he showed up pretending nothing had happened and wanted to jump right back into the ritual, you’d let him. You just wished you’d see his face on the other side of that door; the rest you’d figure out.
But you were sorely disappointed.
Instead, Swiss and Dewdrop stood shoulder to shoulder, a piece of folded parchment in Swiss’ hand.
“Good morning, Sister ______!” Swiss chirped, entirely too giddily for such an early call. Dewdrop remained as silent and stoic as ever.
“Oh... Hi.” You sounded disappointed even to your own ears. Swiss’ signature smile dropped, and behind his mask his eyes squinted in suspicion.
“Well... okay, then...” he shook it off, unsure if he should pry. “Got a thing for ya!” he held the parchment out to you, notably with the wax seal facing up and proudly displaying Papa’s crest indented into it. You stared at it for a beat too long, and Swiss shook it in front of your eyes, awakening you from your own analytical trance. You took it from him, stepping back into your apartment and dropping lazily with a huff onto your couch. Swiss invited himself in, sitting on the opposite end whilst Dew hovered in the doorway, shutting the door behind him.
You popped the seal on the paper, unfolding it to see Papa’s handwriting in a short and frankly abrupt note. Your eyes skimmed it, reading and re-reading over and over, and getting visibly more annoyed with each read through.
“I have every belief you can finish this on your own.”
On your own.
Was he fucking serious? He was just... abandoning you? No apologies, no explanations... he couldn’t even be bothered to show his fucking face today, getting his Ghouls to do his dirty work?
“You fucking asshole...” you muttered, screwing the note up tightly in your fist and throwing it to the floor, slamming your back against the couch and folding your arms like a toddler in a tantrum.
An awkward silence fell over the room, losing yourself in your own thoughts again. So, he was just going to leave you to perform pride and greed alone, with no guidance, not even a hint at what the hell you could possibly do for either one? He'd ruined it. He was spoiling the entire ritual, after you’d done everything you could to stay on task and with just two days left.
Your mind worked itself into a dizzying array of possible scenarios you might be able to play out for the remaining sins, trying desperately to think of something, anything you could do today for either one. Nothing stuck, too complicated by the confusing mix of anger and disappointment in the pit of your stomach.
You’d almost forgotten about the two Ghouls in your presence until Swiss spoke up.
“Sister, are you alright? What did he do?” Swiss’ hand rested on your shoulder, bringing you back to reality.
“He’s just... leaving me to it,” you spat. Swiss was even more confused.
“To what?” he asked. “I don’t understand...” he looked up to Dew, who just shrugged with a shake of his head.
And so, you explained. You told them of the ritual, of each sin you’d performed – conveniently leaving out of course the part where you were now harbouring some very confusing feelings about Papa Emeritus III – and what it was all for. To your surprise, Swiss and Dew listened along attentively, without judgement. Dew came to sit beside you on the armrest of the couch too, his attention on you and allowing you to vent. You’d half expected some clever quips to come from Swiss but no, they both just listened.
“And now, for some reason, he’s just abandoned me and said ‘okay, ______, figure it out yourself’.” Of course, you had an idea what that reason was... clearly you’d pissed him off, but he’d started it when he dove dick first into your friend and laughed at you for having any kind of negative reaction!
Reality set in, and tears welled in your eyes. You really were going to fumble this ritual, now. You wouldn’t get to hear the Dark One’s voice, you wouldn’t get the guidance you had been so desperate for and frankly, you were beginning to question once again your place in the Ministry. You may as well start packing your bags now...
Swiss and Dew shared a look you missed; one of sympathy, like they both wanted to do something to console you. They didn’t want to see a sister lose her faith, particularly not one as kind to the Ghouls as you.
“Well hey, maybe we can help think of something?” Swiss slapped Dew’s back from behind you to encourage him. He nodded vigorously, placing his hand on your other shoulder. “What sins do you have left?”
“Pride and greed...” Your voice shook with unshed tears. “What the hell am I going to do?”
Swiss thought for a moment, shuffling closer to you on the couch to wrap an arm around you and pull you to lay on his chest. He rubbed his hand up and down your arm while you burrowed your face into his neck, allowing yourself a moment to collect yourself, take some breaths.
“Pride is a tough one, that’s about thinking of yourself before another, like being narcissistic or vain, but it can come down to something as simple as self-respect. How you embody that in sin, I don’t really know. I always thought it was a stupid one. What’s wrong with loving yourself, hm? Never got God’s problem with that. Think he just didn’t want people thinking they were better than him...” he scoffed. “Ironic that he made pride a sin when there’s never been a deity with a higher superiority complex.”
You chuckled at that; he was right. But it wasn’t giving you much confidence in how to perform this...
“But greed is easier. That’s about having an excessive, selfish desire to acquire something... Like power or money. Could be... pleasure...” he hesitated there, looking down at you through his mask. “I mean, you could... desire excessive pleasure?” he asked.
You sat up, brain ticking over what he’d said. He was right again, of course. You could...
“I think that, if you wanted to... we could help with that?” Swiss tested the waters, looking up at Dew who nodded slowly in agreement. “Only if you want us to, of course...”
“You’d do that for me?” you asked, sitting up and looking between the two Ghouls. The idea of it far from horrified you. In fact, you had been a little disappointed after your encounter with Phantom that you were too exhausted to find out what Swiss and Dew could do for you. And let’s face it, you were running out of options and time. You had no doubt at all in their ability to enact this sin with you, and you trusted them enough to do so.
“Sweetheart...” Swiss moved in closer, his lips hovering by your ear, tone deepening significantly, “Do you have any idea how disappointed we were when we realised our dear Phantom had exhausted you the other day?”
Swiss’ breath was impossibly hot against your neck, spreading goosebumps over your skin where he moved your hair behind your shoulder with one finger. Dew slid onto the couch on your other side, trapping you between the two of them. He stayed silent as he always did, but his eyes sparkled with an interest that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.
“I-I was disappointed... too...” you stuttered as you felt Swiss’ teeth nipping at your ear lobe, Dew’s hand coming to rest on your knee and drawing delicate patterns into your skin where the hem of your skirt couldn’t quite reach. This was moving fast, but frankly, you didn’t have time to hesitate – you'd only talk yourself out of it, and you didn’t want to do that.
“We could... make you feel good, Sister...” Swiss teased, pressing his lips to the spot on your neck under your ear that sent a wave of arousal through your body. “Just say yes...” he whispered into your neck, drawing patterns with the tip of his nose while Dew’s fingertips travelled up your thigh.
You had to admit, you were easily affected by the Ghouls and their small gestures of affection. At a time when affection was exactly what you needed, you weren’t all that concerned where you got it from. Clearly, it wouldn’t come from the one place you wish it would... And this served a purpose, didn’t it? A means to an end, if you will. Why deny yourself the pleasure? Why deny yourself all the work you’d already put in?
“Fuck it...” you breathed, rolling your head back as Dew attached his lips to the other side of your neck, suckling softly at the skin where previous bruises had yellowed.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we intend to...” Swiss promised, a new fervour in the way he kissed your neck, his hand coming to grip your waist where Dew was pressed against you.
You were surrounded by them both, their hands wandering, their mouths working you to a heightened state of arousal. Dew’s hand began to squeeze at your inner thigh under your skirt, his nails scratching the skin and coaxing your thighs apart for him.
You turned your head to face Dew, his eyes hooded and hazy behind the glint of his silver mask. You could see him biting his lip, searching your face for any protests while his hands squeezed and scratched higher and higher up the inside of your thigh but he found nothing. Instead, with a particular sharp scratch to the skin you found yourself whining and latching your lips to his, pulling him to you by his uniform. Dew groaned, shoving his palm against your clothed mound for you to rut yourself again.
Swiss chuckled against your neck, sinking his teeth into the flesh just enough to cause a sharpness, never enough to burst the skin. You weren’t sure you’d mind if he did at this point, but instead he laved his tongue over the spot, gripping at your waist even tighter and grinding his crotch into your hipbone.
If anyone had seen the three of you right now, they’d accuse you of being horny teenagers, dry humping and making out unrestricted and messy. Truth be told you allowed yourself to lose control, trusting that the two Ghouls entrapping you would take care of you.
Dew’s hand pressed so tightly against your heat, pressing your panties into you and dampening them on your arousal. You ground your hips as you kissed him, tongues dancing together whilst shockwaves pulsed through your clit. Your whimpers were swallowed by Dew’s mouth, earning a low growl from deep within his chest.
Swiss’ cock had hardened in his pants, still grinding into your hip from the angle he was sat beside you. He’d curled himself around you in a way that allowed him access still to your neck, stretched to accommodate Dew on the other side. He purred into your neck, his instincts taking over.
“Sister, tell us what you want...” he pleaded, reaching to grope at your breast through your habit. You parted from Dew and turned your head to him.
“Make me feel good... Until I beg you to stop,” you grinned wildly, grabbing him by his waistcoat and crashing your lips to his. Dew watched hungrily, his hand becoming more calculated and switching to his fingers circling your clit over your panties. Your body writhed where you sat, overwhelmed with the feeling of hands everywhere, pleasure tingling through every nerve.
As your tongue swirled with Swiss’, he unbuttoned your habit, reaching underneath to push his hand under the cup of your bra – another matching piece that Dew was marvelling now he could see your panties under his hand. Swiss broke your kiss, getting a good look at your body now exposed to him.
“Such a pretty set, sweetheart,” he practically sang, ogling the deep green embroidery of the set you’d put on today, still dressing up for whoever had been lucky enough to see them today. “You put this on for your Papa?” he teased.
Now, logically you knew Swiss meant no harm with that question. He wasn’t teasing maliciously.
And yet, somewhat illogically, the mere mention of his name was enough to rouse an anger in you that had you slapping your hand over his lips and holding him still in front of you.
“Don’t fucking mention him. Just give me what I want, Swiss,” you demanded, resigning to your greed already. You pushed him with all your might, ignoring Dew for the moment and forcing Swiss onto his back. His eyes sparkled behind his mask with mischief, hands reaching for your bare thighs as you straddled him and ripped your unbuttoned habit from your arms, throwing it to the floor.
Dew quickly moved with you, sitting himself between Swiss’ ankles and shuffling until his chest met your back. His hands gripped your hips and sat you down on Swiss’ bulge, controlling the way you ground your pussy against him. For all of his silence, Dew’s actions spoke volumes. He guided you as you rutted against Swiss, taking your pleasure while he nipped into your bare shoulder.
With a rhythm created, Dew could focus his hands on your body, removing your bra and pinching at your pebbled nipples. Swiss groaned beneath you, the sight of you mixed with the grind on his cock an intoxicating cocktail.
“Dew... Dew, get these off her, man,” he pants, pinging at the waistband of your panties. Dew complied, dropping his hands to them and ripping without hesitation, tearing into the material and flinging it elsewhere. “Hope you didn’t like them too much, sweetheart,” Swiss smirked, undoing the zipper of his trousers between you and hissing when you rubbed your folds over his knuckles as he did.
As Swiss began to undress himself, Dew took it upon himself to make sure you weren’t going a second without stimulation. From behind you, he slid his hands under you, pushing his fingers forwards through your soaked folds until his fingertips circled your clit. Your back arched at the sensation, reaching behind you and around the back of his neck to pull his chest against you. He alternated between dragging his fingers through your slick folds and circling your clit over and over whilst you dug your nails into the back of his head, pulling his lips down to yours to muffle your moans in a desperate kiss.
Beneath you, Swiss managed to remove his waistcoat and shirt and push his pants down enough to release his length. He stroked himself as he watched the display above him, seeing you get closer and closer to your first orgasm. He began to talk you through it, coaxing you more and more while Dew’s fingers took on a mind of their own.
“Feels good, huh, baby?” he laughed after a particularly lavish moan escaped your lips and your hips bucked against Dew’s fingers. “Push ‘em inside, Dew. Let her feel you,” he encouraged. Dew did just that, slipping two fingers inside your heat from behind you. You cursed into his mouth, clenching around the intrusion that felt so fucking welcome you almost toppled over the edge just at that.
Dew growled, curling his fingers as he fucked them in and out of you. The coil inside you was tightening impossibly fast, and within a minute you knew you were set to burst.
“Are you gonna cum on his fingers, sweetheart? Come on... Give us one,” Swiss cheered you on, stroking himself and using his free hand to cup your breast, pinching your nipple to punctuate his words. When you bucked and writhed, orgasm finally hitting you he praised you, “There we go, hm? Good girl... Cum on his fingers baby, that’s it...”
You whined and clenched on Dew, biting down on his bottom lip and he fucked his hand into you to get you through it. When the pleasure ebbed away, you leaned back against him, turning your head to look down at Swiss who was smirking, slowly stroking at his now leaking cock. Now able to see his chest, you realised just how built he was underneath his shirt and waistcoat. A thin layer of chest hair contoured his chest and abdomen, right down to where he was touching himself; it drove you wild.
“Good?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Mhm. Want more,” you grinned, bending at the waist to hover over him, your hand swatted his away as you leaned.
“More?” he teased, “Greedy little girl...” You giggled, beginning to stroke him and pushing your lips to his to silence him. Behind you, Dew was busy taking in the view as he sucked on the fingers he’d dove inside you, cleaning himself off. From where you bent over Swiss, he had the perfect view of your rounded and still bruised ass and your exposed, glistening cunt. Tasting you on his fingers ignited something inside him, growling as he licked every last drop.
Swiss noticed his friend’s eyes trained on your core, hearing his growls and broke your kiss to nod in his direction and show you what you’d caused. You followed his gaze and watched the man who was hypnotised by your taste...
“I think he likes you,” Swiss flirted, “why don’t you let him have a taste, sweetheart? I’m sure he can give you another with his tongue...” A deeper, louder growl came from Dew’s throat. “See?”
Looking behind you, you saw Dew’s gaze had fallen on yours as if waiting for permission... “Don’t stop until I’m cumming, Dew,” you demanded, wiggling your hips in front of him.
Like a man possessed, Dew shuffled back on the couch and bent down, shoving his masked face into your ass and laving his tongue over your core. You fell forward at the force, slamming to Swiss’ chest where he held you tightly against him. Laying against him you could do nothing to pump his length in your hand, but Swiss didn’t mind. Plenty of time for that later... For now, he was enjoying the look on your face as Dew dove into your pussy, sucking and licking and nipping at your clit.
“Fuck, Dew... So good...” you whined; Dew’s grip on your ass tightened, his nails burning into the bruises still littering your skin. By now the pain of the bruises didn’t bother you so much, only heightening the depravity you found yourself in. Your mind wondered over the last few days, how you’d been used and fucked every single day in the filthiest ways. You’d tried things you never had before, surprised yourself with new kinks and confidence and allowed yourself the freedom to sleep with whoever aroused you at the time. You’d never felt so empowered...
The memories served to drive you mad with arousal, wanting nothing more than to cum again on Dew’s tongue. Once again, you found yourself close to an end, rutting your hips against his chin. The movement of your hips created short, small ripple-effect moments through your body that were enough to give Swiss a little bit of friction, cock still wrapped up in your hand. He hummed in delight, pressing his lips to yours in a messy kiss.
“How does she taste, Dew?” he called down to his friend, knowing full well he wouldn’t asnwer with words. Dew growled again, lost in his own greed. He needed more of you, all of you. Your taste was sending him on a straight road to insanity. “Good, it seems...” he smiled sadistically.
Dew was becoming feral behind you as you rutted against his chin. His tongue dove into you, the nose of his mask adding to your pleasure and winding your coil back up once again until you lost it... You cried out against Swiss’ chest, your hand squeezing his length between the two of you earning a hiss and groan of pleasure. You felt your pussy convulsing, a wave of fresh arousal briefly squirting from you to land on Dew’s tongue as he slurped and drank everything you gave him.
Dew delivered a spank to your ass as he sat up, licking his lips and wiping his chin of your mess.
“Unholy fuck, did you squirt on him?” Swiss asked, amazed as you lay on him, catching your breath. You just giggled in response, words failing you. “Shit, I wanna make you do that...”
“Then... you’ll... need to fuck me, first...” you taunted between breaths.
“You got it, sweetheart,” he kissed you again, reaching between you both to take his cock from you, only to line it up with your entrance and slowly, begin to push inside you.
Dew watched on from behind you, slowly undressing himself as he watched Swiss’ cock sink further and further into you. He was surprised at himself, so turned on watching another man sink into where he had just been burying his tongue and fingers. He thought he might feel possessive, jealous even, but he wanted nothing more than to see you fall apart on his friend. He was enjoying this...
When Swiss bottomed out, he couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling. You felt so warm, so wet around him. Thanks to Dew’s work, you had been able to quickly accommodate him, slick enough to take him without any issues. You sat up, pressing your palms to his chest and rolling your hips against him. Immediately, pleasure returned and that spot inside you fluttered when he grazed it. You needed him, you needed more. Always more, more, more...
Swiss’s hips met yours, rolling against you over and over. He watched where the two of you connected, seeing his cock disappearing over and over, glistening with your juices. In the space between your thighs and his cock, he could vaguely make out Dew behind you, now completely nude and stroking himself in time with his thrusts.
“Fuck...” Swiss breathed, turned on at the sight. “Hey, hey baby...” he tapped at your cheek, getting you to open your eyes you’d closed in bliss and look down at him, “Think Dew needs a hand...”
You looked behind you, seeing Dew completely nude save for his mask, and fucking into his fist much like Copia had been at your feet yesterday. And you got an idea...
“This isn’t fair...” you whined, slapping a hand down against Swiss’ chest in protest. You stopped moving your hips but he continued for the both of you, refusing to stop.
“W-what?” he asked.
“Want more... Want you both,” you whimpered, reaching behind you to stroke at Dew’s cock. He shivered at the contact, and the thought of being buried in you like Swiss was. He wanted you too...
“B-both of us? Like...” Swiss stuttered, now stilling his hips reluctantly.
“Inside me, together. Fuck, I need it... Please?” you begged, looking between them both. The Ghouls looked past you and at each other, seeming to have a silent conversation while you waited impatiently. The thought of having both of them inside you; it both scared and excited you. Were you sure you could take them both? Would it hurt? Maybe they wouldn’t be comfortable with it?
“Dew, if you’re not comfortable man, I get it...” Swiss reasoned; in his mind, he was more than happy to oblige. His cock even twitched at the thought, which came as a surprise to him. He’d never been in such close proximity to another man sexually but he wasn’t opposed to the idea in the slightest.
Dew gave Swiss a look, paired with a slight twist of his head and started to slowly, once again, stroke himself; confirming that the idea was enough to interest him.
“Shit, okay... okay, yeah. You think you can take us, baby?” Swiss’ attention came back onto you.
“With the right prep,” you smirked, looking back at Dew. “Will you help, Dew?”
He nodded in understanding, his hand sliding between your ass cheeks and further down, until his fingertips met where you sat impaled on Swiss’ cock. Swiss watched intently, his body twitching when Dew’s fingertips came into contact with his shaft. Slowly, Dew pushed in one finger as Swiss pushed himself in too, using the movement to aid the stretch of added girth. You saw fucking stars...
“Sathanas...” you squealed, and the two stilled in panic. “No, no... don’t stop. It’s good... so fucking good,” you reassured, and the two men continued... In and out, over and over while you got slicker, messier for both of them like your body knew what was coming and wanted nothing more than to get you there.
Before long, Dew attempted to push another digit in, and slowly but surely, he managed to do the same. Your body was accommodating them both nicely, nothing too rushed, still just slow and gentle. The look on Swiss’ face was a picture, screwed up in his attempts to remain focussed, to not burst into a fit of rutting as hard and fast as he possibly could with how good it felt to be sheathed inside you and have Dew’s fingers pressed against him.
When you were ready, Dew added a third finger, stretching you to a point you most certainly never had before. His wrist ached at the angle, and so he pushed gently on your shoulder until you leaned over, hovering above Swiss and giving him much better access. The new position somehow made it easier on you too, spreading your legs further to accommodate both intrusions.
“I... I think I’m ready,” you said once Dew and Swiss had made sure to slowly push inside as deep as possible while you shivered and spasmed at the feeling. “Please, Dew...”
“He’s coming baby, just a little longer, okay? Wanna be sure...” Swiss reassured, peppering kisses to your neck where he lay. You nodded, letting them work you open a little longer, your slick gathering between them both and creating an easier glide as the seconds passed. Eventually, they were satisfied you were prepared.
Dew looked over your shoulder to Swiss, checking in one final time that he was still okay with this. Swiss just smirked back at him, uttering a “Go ahead, Dew.”
To make the initial entry easier on you, Swiss pulled himself out when Dew’s fingers left you. Dew used that same hand to coat himself in arousal, and finally, the two of them lined up beside each other, their tips just barely grazing and yet... Both of them gasped at the touch. The sound didn’t escape you; and by the look on Swiss’ face, it was certainly a pleasant experience.
Slowly, the two of them pressed into you, sliding gently to fill you together. Dew’s hands gripped your hips, nails digging into the flesh while Swiss squeezed at your thighs, both having to restrain themselves. For you, the feeling of being stretched and filled to your limits was so damn good, you moaned so wantonly that it vibrated through your body and reached them both, tormenting them until eventually they bottomed out together.
“Shit, Dew... You good, man?” Swiss cried, unable to tear his eyes away from where both their cocks pressed tightly against each other inside you. He missed Dew’s frantic nodding, but at the lack of protest he knew he was safe to continue.
They began to build a leisurely pace, moving together in sync and dragging themselves over your g-spot in unison. All you could do was grip onto Swiss’ biceps for dear life, and try not to fall apart where you knelt. You’d never been pushed to this limit before, never taken so much at once but with their careful preparation they had managed to make it as easy as possible for you.
“More... Please, want more,” you hummed, desperate for a faster pace, something rougher and more punishing. You wanted another fucking orgasm... Sure enough, greed had overtaken you.
“Greedy girl,” Swiss growled, beginning to rock a little faster, mismatching his pace with Dew. Dew tried to keep up, but fell a little behind in rhythm. Surprisingly, that felt better than them both being in sync... Now, they were both hitting your g-spot, one after the other, in a similar rhythm to a heartbeat.
You were crying out to both of them, expletives and wild moans between mutterings of their names filling the air around you to a backdrop of slick and sloppy noises as both men fucked into you, harder and harder... Dew couldn’t help his own moans, surrounded by you and Swiss at the same time, a whole new feeling he’d never experienced but unholy shit it felt incredible. He didn’t know another cock against his own could feel like this, never knew how much he’d love this.
Swiss was thinking much the same, enjoying the drag of Dew’s hardness against his own. Both Ghouls were losing their minds inside you. Swiss released his grip on your thighs in search of Dew’s instead, pulling him closer, needing more of him in some form... Dew dropped one of his hands then, able to hold onto both him and you as the two kept pounding into you.
“D-Dew... Oh, shit, why does this feel – ahhh – so good?” Swiss cried, throwing his head back into the couch. Dew roared behind you, curling his body to press against your back and sandwiching you between the sweaty bodies either side of you. You moved a little to the side, to give them room to get closer to each other, something you could sense they definitely needed while they rutted into you with reckless abandon.
“C-can I kiss you, Dew? Fuck man, I don’t know, need more...” he pleaded through grit teeth. Dew pushed himself harder against you both and met Swiss in a bruising kiss neither man had seen coming when this all began. But it felt right, it felt good.
Your head lay on Swiss’ chest, watching the two of them making out as their cocks filled and stretched you. It was all so much, a kind of bliss you’d never encountered. You could feel your end coming quickly, tearing through you as they resigned themselves to the mercy of the other. You gave them no warning, unable to fathom a sentence when a third burst of pleasure soared through your body.
If Swiss wanted you to squirt for him, he’d certainly got his wish. You gushed on the pair of them, violently shaking at the force of your orgasm. The two of them broke their kiss and Swiss lost his mind, feeling your cunt flooding him.
“Fucking hell, I gotta cum... I can’t hold this anymore. Dew, do you mind? Can I cum inside her?” You heard him babble as your brain clouded, coming down slowly while you convulsed and spasmed. You absolutely didn’t mind if he did, but would Dew? He was still buried in you too, after all...
But Dew chuckled breathlessly and tightened his grip on Swiss’ hand, leaning in to kiss him again. He kept his pace up; a sure-fire way of making sure Swiss came inside you, and in turn, on him.
It didn’t take him long once he got confirmation, stilling deep inside you, pressed against your cervix as his cum spilled from his cock and coated not only your walls, but Dew’s shaft too. He jumped and pulsed, desperate howls lost to Dew’s kiss. Dew kept going, slower than before but still rutting against Swiss and sending ripples of a dull buzz through you while it served to prolong Swiss’s end.
Spent and exhausted, Swiss lay back, letting his limbs drop to the couch for a moment before he curled them around you, holding you to him still inside you. He wouldn’t remove himself yet, not while Dew was still plunging into you. He felt his spend dripping down his own length and gathering at the base of both his and Dew’s cocks and pictured what that would look like, smiling to himself dumbly as he enjoyed the overstimulation.
Behind you, Dew had sat back up on his knees to get a better look and yes, Swiss had been right. Where Dew still rocked into you, Swiss’ spend was leaking and mixing with your own. It was the filthiest thing Dew had ever seen, and it shoved him violently into an orgasm of his own, stilling deep inside you like Swiss just had with a strangled roar.
“Fuck, fill her up, Dew...” Swiss encouraged him, talking him through his orgasm as if speaking words that Dew couldn’t. “She needs you, Dew. Fill. Her. Up.” He spat through grit teeth, while Dew’s cock slid against his own and pushed him into oversensitivity. Dew did as he was told, emptying his load into you.
The three of you lay atop each other, spent and exhausted. Neither Ghoul made a move to pull out of you just yet, regaining some strength and regulating their heart rates before they could even think of moving. So, you lay squashed between the two, blissfully floating in euphoria.
“Well, uh... Satan be damned, that was... different,” Swiss laughed, still partially breathless.
“Felt so good, guys... You’ve no idea,” you hummed, affectionately reaching behind you to pat at Dew’s hand on top of Swiss’.
“For us too, sweetheart. Can’t believe you’re a squirter...” You swatted his chest weakly with a dumb smile, earning a chuckle from Dew. “Just wish I coulda tasted that... Dew seemed to enjoy you,” he sighed. He had hoped to taste you at some point, but things had moved in a different direction before he could and he was happy to just go with the flow, give you what you wanted.
And then, he got an idea.
“Hey, sweetheart?” he asked timidly. You raised your head from his chest with a quiet “hmm?”, waiting for whatever he wanted to ask. “Is that the most orgasms you’ve had in one sitting?” he asked, curiously.
“Well, I’ve had three in one before but yes, never more than three. Gets kinda sensitive...” you laughed, settling back on his chest, content to lay there in peace with Dew.
“Well... the first two were mostly just Dew. I never got to give you one of my own,” he pouted. “You think you could take one more?”
Your head popped back up, looking into Swiss’ eyes and thinking over his proposition. You certainly did feel sensitive, but the idea intrigued you. Could you take another? You weren’t sure, but you’d be willing to let him try...
“Um... maybe?” you questioned. Swiss smirked.
“Hey Dew, would it be... just terrible... if I made sure our darling Sister of Sin was sufficiently cleaned up? I think we’ve made a mess...” he chewed on his lip, waiting for an indication from the silent Ghoul behind you.
Dew sat up then, removing himself from you and taking a look at the mess the three of you had indeed made. He checked back in with Swiss, nodding.
“Ah, so we did make a mess. Well, sweetheart, I'd like to offer my cleaning services,” he smirked cheekily.
“I think that’s only fair...” you quipped.
Swiss sat up, still holding you to him but transferring your weight back onto the couch cushion as he carefully removed himself from you too. You did your best to contract your walls, holding whatever you could inside you for the moment. Now, you sat upright, legs hanging over the edge of the couch and slouched lazily against Dew’s bare chest beside you. Swiss stood up, removing the pants that still clung to his legs by his knees, and then took up a position between your thighs, hooking your legs over his shoulders.
He looked down at your core, and could see the mess they’d made; covered in slick, cum and puffed up from the relentless pounding. You looked delectable.
Swiss dove in, gently at first, with his tongue lapping around your core instead of directly centre. You still writhed at the pleasure of it, enjoying the feeling as he tasted the mixture of the three of you on his tongue. Beside you, you felt Dew’s chest tense, his eyes intently trained on Swiss’ disappearing tongue. This was turning him on again, and he was yet to soften from the sex itself... With a little fuel left in the tank, he began to stoke his length, hissing at the sensitivity.
As Swiss’ tongue dragged over your clit for the first time, you naturally clenched, a small amount of the cum you held inside you slipping out. Swiss dove in to catch it on his tongue, careful to make sure Dew saw it sat there before he swallowed it down. He’d never done anything like this before and part of him worried Dew would find it disgusting, to eat both his and Dew’s cum from you but now Dew’s hand moved quicker, he knew it was having the opposite effect.
He hummed in satisfaction at the taste, continuing to assault your clit with his tongue and every so often having to clean up another small amount you’d involuntarily released when things got too sensitive. Dew kept stroking himself, his hips jumping if he spent too long on his sensitive tip. You wanted badly to help him, but there was no strength to lift your arms by your sides.
Vaguely, the pleasure began to stack up again... you were no longer unsure if you could reach a fourth orgasm; you knew you could. Swiss would just need to be gentle – and somehow, he understood that.
“Dew, I can’t lie, man... we taste good together,” he teased, watching as Dew bit his lip. “You wanna try?” he snickered. Dew nodded emphatically.
Swiss brought his fingers up to your centre, pushing them easily inside given you’d not long had two decent sized cocks inside you, and gathered the rest of what you were keeping on them. Then he raised them to Dew’s lips, who bent to meet him halfway, and sucked the mess off them.
Swiss held his fingers up for him as he dove back into your core, now focussing his attention solely on your clit. You whined tiredly at the sensitivity, but shit, you were close again after watching the display beside you. Dew’s hand sped significantly, making sure he sucked every last drop of cum from Swiss’ fingers. He groaned as a second orgasm came closer; he had wanted to wait for your last orgasm to cum with you, but that was looking unlikely now. He just needed a release again.
He fell back against the couch as his cock spurted another load, clearer this time and far less than he’d emptied into you, but it felt good enough that he rolled his eyes back and had to drop his hand from the overstimulation while his hips bucked out of control.
Swiss giggled into your core, suckling at your clit a little harder and enjoying the noises you were making. You barely recognised yourself, squealing so highly in overstimulation as your body went stiff, letting his tongue work you over and over until finally, you crashed for one last time.
Dew caught you as your body slid to the side and into his chest, holding you and shushing you as you hiccupped in a much quieter orgasm than before, too spent and broken for anything too powerful. Your thighs pushed Swiss’ head away as they came together, shielding you from any more overstimulation. He sat back on his heels, pleased with his work as he licked the remnants of you, himself and Dew from his chin. Quietly, you came down again in Dew’s arms, your body jolting with short little bursts of electricity until you finally stilled.
Four orgasms had taken its toll on you, and whilst the last of them hadn’t been as earth shattering as the first three, it still left you exhausted and weak. Swiss and Dew could see it in you, and allowed you to curl up into them for a while so you could relax, rest up, and get the aftercare you needed from them both.
The Ghouls spent the rest of the day with you, having cleaned you up – properly, this time. With an actual shower... – and taken good care of you. Swiss had made you some food, something healthier for the three of you than the junk he’d thrown together last time, and the pair of them just stayed put all day, mostly in a relaxing silence as you watched whatever was on the TV.
You appreciated that – your head was too busy for conversation, exhausted but still hurting. But there were no expectations to play hostess to the guests in your apartment, nor to divulge the mess of emotions in your mind. If you wanted to talk to them about it all, you would. They felt that.
But you remained in your own head. You thought over the events of yesterday, of the whole week. You re-read Papa’s note in your mind over and over. You stewed over the thought of him caring for you much less than you’d thought, if his display in his office yesterday was anything to go by...
It all hurt.
It wasn’t until Dew wiped a tear from your cheek that you even knew you’d been crying. He gave you a look; one that asked what was wrong without having said the words. You weren’t sure why Dew was a mute Ghoul, but you were glad that it never seemed to be a problem for him. People understood what he was thinking quite easily; most of the time it was ‘what the fuck are you looking at?’ but they understood him all the same... He wasn’t a people person, but you were kind to him; a friend. And so, he cared when he saw you silently crying beside him.
“N-nothing, Dew. I’m good,” you lied. Your voice caught Swiss’ attention then, who also saw the tears.
“You can tell us, ______. I’m not gonna tell anyone and, well... neither’s Abu over here,” he joked, slapping Dew’s shoulder as he compared him to the silent, grunting monkey from Aladdin. Dew slapped him back on the back of the head. That earned him a smile from you; goal achieved.
“I just... Have you ever thought of someone in a certain way, and then... they’ve proved you wrong?” you asked them.
“Well, I thought Dew was straight. Think he proved me wrong today,” he laughed. You did too, appreciating that he was trying to make you smile when you needed it. “But that’s not what you mean, is it?”
You shook your head no, smile slipping away.
“You’re talking about Papa.”
You nodded.
“I suppose he just... maybe I got too wrapped up in all this,” you sighed, wiping another fresh tear away. Dew’s arm tightened around your shoulders. “Probably should have known that ‘the great Papa Emeritus the Third’ wouldn’t see me as anything more than a notch on his bedpost. Feel stupid now, thinking I’d actually started feeling something for him...” you laughed, no humour behind it at all.
“Don’t shoo your feelings away just because he’s devoid of them. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel, they’re no less real just because he doesn’t reciprocate. Feelings can be dealt with, Sister,” he assured. Strangely, his words felt quite affirming.
“I just thought he cared...” your voice cracked with more tears, a lump in your throat forming you forced to swallow.
“You’re part of his congregation, so I think he does care. But... maybe not exactly how you’d hoped, no...” Swiss took your hand and squeezed it. “Listen, you have one more day. One more sin to complete, and then you can figure out with the Dark One what your next steps are. Ask him about Papa, if you need to. I don’t know if it’s a ‘you only get three questions’ kind of situation, but I’m sure he can help. At the very least, I'm sure he can give you a purpose that will take your mind off Papa entirely.”
You hummed in agreement. Just one more day. How you’d achieve what you needed in that one day, you weren’t sure, but you had the willpower and the tenacity to find something.
“Big day for you tomorrow. Final sin, the All Hallow’s Ball, a date with Lucifer...” he smirked, winking down at you.
“Oh, shit... the ball. I forgot about that,” you sighed.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Just... gotta see Papa,” and Christine, too... awkward. “I think I’d rather not.” Swiss nodded in understanding.
“Non-negotiable though, isn’t it?” he asked, and you nodded back, “Don’t worry, Dew and I will be there. You can dance with us.”
“Sure, I’d like that,” you smiled between them both.
Whilst Swiss’ little pep-talk hadn’t exactly exterminated the sadness that welled up in you now that you’d admitted your feelings towards Papa weren’t strictly platonic, he had at least eased some of the anxiety in your mind about what to do with them.
Feelings could be dealt with; that was his most important advice, yet. No matter how long it might take, they could be dealt with. You could get through that, and Papa essentially cutting you off here was probably for the best. At least you didn’t have to worry about more nights with him, and those feelings growing exponentially harder to ignore. What you needed to focus on right now, was completing this ritual.
One more day. One more sin.
And a date with Lucifer.
Prev: Day 5 - Envy | Next: Day 7: Pride
A/N: And so, one more sin, and potentially only one more chapter... I'm working on writing it today - there's SO MUCH to put into it, so please bear with me. I may have to upload it in two halves if I can't finish it in time for tomorrow (I've been so busy with work, and Ghostcon over the weekend too!)
A huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading, and @adinferix for fine tuning the Italian translations! 🖤
LETS talk about ghost + spanking, im brain rotting on him and i need him to put me over his lap sewww bad …
he’s being kind of playful with the threat, “keep acting like this and i’ll haveta bend you over my lap.” and it’s playful and funny and he says it with a chuckle but of course you take it as a challenge. and when he’s finally had it and decides it’s time to make good on his threat he has you cornered. he’s not really mad, he’s not angry at all, and he doesn’t think you need a punishment, but if you agreed to it why wouldn’t he spank you? seems like a wasted opportunity to him.
and so he does. back in the barracks or some hidden away private room, he’s sat with you bent over his thick thighs. it’s just the two of you, and as he caresses your still very clothed back side he says “now imagine if the others were here to see this? how embarrassing..” his fingers push between the back of your thighs and his thumb slips up the curve of your ass. his fingers cup your cunt gently through your pants and he’s so gentle when he rubs up and down in such a soothing way, it gives you whiplash when his hand suddenly smacks your ass.
“…bet you’d love it, huh?” he asks and another smack lands. the impact is jarring but it doesn’t hurt, it just makes you jump. you’ve never done this with ghost, you don’t know how he likes to do it or how harsh he might usually be but you know he’s experienced. he’s so confident and sure of himself, every thing he does is backed with intimidating confidence. his big hand strikes again, consistent in where it lands and how hard it is with the first two.
“you’ve been such a brat all day, pushin me to this. i warned you. you just had to push me, didn’t you doll?” with every sentence end his palm collides with your clothed bottom. he struck you harder each time, but he retrained himself so carefully. he didn’t want to actually hurt you, not when this was supposed to be playful. ghost didn’t know what you could or couldn’t take yet. it’s why he didn’t ask you to take off your pants and why he didn’t say a single demeaning thing and why he was still being gentle even with your pants as a buffer.
his hand rubs your butt gently as he speaks again. “why’d you decide to push me? couldn’t just be good?” he sounds so patronizing, and if you could see his face right now you’d see the fake, pouty frown that pulled up quickly into a smirk as he grabbed a handful of your ass.
“you wanted my attention that bad?” he winds his hand back and spanks you again. this time you feel a residual sting, it’s only there for a second but it leaves you feeling warm and you press your thighs together.
another smack, to your other cheek and this time when he speaks again the condescending tone is replaced with a serious tone that demands compliance. “answer me, lovely.” it takes you a moment to find your voice, having been so engulfed by the way he spoke and anticipating another smack that you forgot yourself entirely.
“yes..” is all you mumble out, practically inaudible. but that won’t do. “Cant hear you love.” another, harder smack lands and you whimper. it stings in such an embarrassingly good way, that your voice is whiney when you speak again. “yes, I wanted your attention.” it’s so shameful the way you fall to his hand. the way you give whatever you think he wants from you and how there isn’t even a whisper of the brattiness you showed earlier. the grin he wears is one of complete satisfaction, seeing you so compliant so quickly.
ghost rubs your bottom again, hand dipping between your thighs. his thumb comes up the middle of your ass again, and he cups your cunt teasingly. you can’t help the way your thighs push closed against it or how you try to push against him. how quickly his hand slips out from between your warmth. “ah-ah, none of that.”
a finial, harsh smack lands. “in fact..” he helps you up to your feet easily.
when you finally see his face again he’s trying to relax his grin into a smirk. ghost had heavily enjoyed this, as mostly gentle as it was. any amount of intimate moment with you made his heart swell. he was terribly pleased at how much you seemed to trust him to do this with him at all. “I think that’s enough, don’t you?” he pulls you in by your hips and wraps his arms around your waist.
you tilt your head and wonder how to ask about the pressing ache between your legs that drips into your underwear. your hands hold his shirt with loose fists. both ends of you were probably red at this point, between being spanked and the embarrassment of your arousal. “help me..off?” you force yourself to ask, bashful under his gaze. a rushed “please?” is tacked on, hopeful that minding your manners might incline him to help you.
but ghost just smiles and shakes his head. he leans down and kisses the tip of your nose. “‘fraid not, lovely. we’ve got to get back.” it’s hard for him to not sound so smug about it, as apparently he found it amusing to deny you. without another word about it he pulls away and leaves to open the door, holding it open and gesturing for you to follow. that british fuck.
content: smut (mdni), use of toys (vibrator), johnny being a sneaky shit, edging?? probably, that’s all!
smth to listen to: give - sleep token
bye!! -faye🍼
Johnny Mactavish was easy to please. Dote on him sweetly, nuzzle into his chest, kiss him softly, it was too simple to keep him happy. And it was even more simple to keep him relatively active.
Being together for so long, it was relatively simple to know what Johnny enjoyed. And Johnny loved to play, easy as that.
He loved hunting you down, being hunted. Teasing you, vice versa. Though recently, you feel things have been a little too simple. Johnny was too sweet, too lovely to even mutter a word of complaint about the relatively...boring sessions you've been having recently. You decided it was time for a step up, something that'll excite him. Something that'll keep him giddy and chasing after you as he always does.
Though he'll admit, it takes him by surprise when you have a gift waiting for him. Slipping a box into his hands and kissing his forehead while he settles for the afternoon. Gently reminding him that you both have dinner reservations later that night, and to dress up nicely. Before he can slip in another word, you’re already off again, disappearing into your home, away from him.
On a 'grocery run', you stopped by a shop. Despite your nerves, the quirky, young clerk was more than happy to help you explore the wonders of their store. Following her neon hair and dark makeup through the magical isles of sex toys and bits of lingerie.
Through her babbling, your eyes were fixed on a bit of packaging that caught your attention immediately.
"Ah, the remote one?" She took notice in how you stared, picking it from its place. "This one's got lots of settings, perfect if your lover's a big tease...yours is, yeah?"
"He is, yeah.." You felt sheepish, shy, speaking to this girl about your sex life. She didn't seem to care one bit.
"Should be perfect for ya, baby" Goodness, that right there just convinced you.
"Alright..I'll get this one-" Was an answer she humbly accepted, and seeing as that was all you needed, the two of you swiftly began weaving your way back through the store. Your poor, innocent eyes were still fixed onto the various crafts being sold. Silicone, feathers and lace was definitely a force to be reckoned with.
She rung you up quietly, watching as you still looked.
"Just a heads up.." She hummed, gaining your attention once more. "All of our lingerie is fifty percent off today.."
~
It’s a nice little box, wrapped up with a nice black bow. It’s obvious that you’d tied it, made it all pretty for him. And what was inside was just as pretty. He opened it up to find a little black remote. Johnny knew what it was instantly, snickering quietly to himself. Who would’ve thought that you, his sweet, well kept, and relatively vanilla lover just gave him access to their vibrator. Thats why you ran off so quickly. It was a game to be played, and a game he was gonna win. He hesitated, for about thirty minutes actually. Waiting for the perfect moment.
The moment came suddenly. When you were doing some chores around the house. He saw you, carefully drying the dishes you’d just rinsed. He sipped from his mug of coffee, and with three little clicks, he watched you crumble. He watched you gasp and fumble against the counter. Your eyes darted over to him, and he matched the mischief you held earlier. “Y’alright, bonnie?” He grinned, clicking the button once more. You set down your towel, humming loudly. Your knuckles went white as you gripped against the countertop. “Never- Never better—” You responded, quick gasps falling past the part in your lips.
He lifted his hand, looking to all the buttons, grinning before he cut the power off completely. “Glad to hear, love” He snickered, watching you turn back, your face heating up quickly. He was running off before you could scold him, mimicking how you’d ran away from him earlier when you’d given him the remote.
At least it was short, not dragged on or anything. Though it still left you huffing, a pout playing on your lips as you aggressively grabbed at your dish towel again, resuming your dishes with a growing dampness between your legs.
It wasn’t thought of again until you forgot, getting all pretty and pampered in your bedroom. It was nearing six thirty, and your reservations were at seven. You’d fixed your hair, done your makeup, slipped on the prettiest and tiniest black dress you had. Johnny’s favorite in particular. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the sudden vibrations against your cunt, causing you to gasp and keep to your spot on the bed, with Johnny watching from afar. His body leant up against the doorway, easing the intensity up further.
“Johnny!” You’d hollered out, hearing his devilish little laugh from where he stood. He didn’t stop it this time, leaning against the frame of your bedroom door, watching you. “I like the present you got me, really thoughtful, bonnie” He grinned, dangling the device between his fingers, watching you. Your hands fisted at the sheets, shaking your head. “You like it too much, ah-” You’d hummed, leaning your head back.
He relished in the sight of you. Sweet, lovely little moans that sprouted from your throat. How your legs spread and the little fabric your dress had rode up. The way your chest would heave gently, and your lips would wobble with every intake of breath, so sharp.
Johnny took it all in, matching your hum as he stepped closer to you. Towering over your form on the bed you two shared. His hands moved to your sides, head dipping down to trace his lips over the nape of your neck, his breath tickling in spots he knew you loved. He took note of the constant whirring, and how you whined for him.
You’ve ached for this moment all day, from the moment you put it on, you prayed he’d finish you in such a way. The agitation from it being kept still for so long, and now at the highest setting had sent you from zero to a hundred in minutes.
“Johnny…ohh-” You moaned, feeling his grin against your skin, past his perfectly saturated smile. “Thats it, bonnie, go on” Your arm hooked over his shoulder, gripping his shirt as you shook below him. The vibrations against you felt almost too much to bare, your whimpers spewed out next to his ear.
It’s taken steps further once he presses his index and middle finger against the front of your panties, shifting the small toy. The lace was so thin, so sheer. He wanted to rip it from you, to tear you apart then and there. You looked pitiful, rutting your hips against his hand in a desperate attempt to feel it further. The high setting had you going quickly, a little too quick for Johnnys liking.
He loved taking his time, now wasn’t going to be anything quick.
Your squeals were delightful against his eardrums, and the breathless sighs pushed past your lips made his cock throb desperately for you. You felt it, too. Pushed heatedly against the back of your bare thigh. Just the thought of him filling you had you aching. The mere thought almost had you creaming. And just as you began to squirm in his hold, right as it was hitting the right spot-
“Fuck! m’gonna-” You announced, but the admission was ripped away just as soon as it began. Your voice hummed a whine in protest. “Johnny..”
He gently removed himself from over top of you, smirking. He dangled the remote on his index finger, it was lifeless, much to your dismay.
“C’mon, we have dinner reservations.” He didn’t stop to acknowledge thr pout on your lips, the protests that came from the trembling in your thighs. It took strength for him to not pull your dress off to reveal the obviously new set you bought. “Keep it on, won’t you?”
He tugged you up, giving you a quick kiss to your forehead.
“Maybe i’ll let you finish by the time we get back…you never know.”
Warnings: mutual Pining, fluff, smut/nsfw, 18+, unprotected sex, mentions of violence, bullet wounds, injury, Shower sex, theft, slight dom Price, age gap in my head Price is 41
Summary: Your exhausted after a mission and need help from your Captain getting out of your gear.
A/N: written after coming across an anon ask to @yeyinde and @irnbru32 Shower Price, please as always comments and feedback welcome
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank
——————————
The mission went better than expected, but what did you expect you where in the company of the best.
You got back to the base, exhausted and weak. Everything ached, all your gear felt 10 times heavier. You lay down on the cold concrete floor the solidness of it grounding you. You really couldn’t be bothered making it back to your quarters, leave me here you thought as the other walked past you laughing. Gaz bending down offering his hand to help you up. You declined shooing his hand away closing your eyes.
Price walked back to were you had crashed yourself down.
“Can’t stay there all night, Kid” - he grumbled at you. You opened your eyes to find him crouched over your head. His face just as ruddy as yours but he wore it well, better in fact. His eyes crinkled by his smile. Your Captain. You owed him more than you could ever offer and all he asked for in return was you come back to him safe and in one piece, but he asked that of all of you the whole of the squad…you weren’t special but he made you feel like you where.
“Leave me here Sir…I’ll sleep in my tact gear” - You close your eyes again the image of his bright blue one’s burned in your lids. You felt him shift the smell of tobacco, gun oil and dirt waved off him. You were taken by surprise when your felt his heavy hand loop under your tact vest to get a grip of the shoulder strap. He began to drag you across the floor muttering something about if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad…
“Captain?…what…wait i’ll get up!”- You were laughing, but you couldn’t hide the slight hysteria in your voice. You sounded giddy you felt giddy, maybe it was just the head rush of getting to your feet or was it the way his eyes watched you like a hawk to make sure you didn’t flop back down on the ground.
no specific pronouns, but use of the word girl at the end. ily❤️
Edward Cullen
- Something simple can change the course of any action if it’s relevant enough. And in this case, you tugged enough to gain his reaction.
- His hands hover over your hips, too afraid to bare down in fear he’d lose control. Though it isn’t him who’s losing it, in this case. With your lips tied firmly with his, the jittery feeling that flows through your bloodstream just won’t stop. And it’s your heartbeat that he craves so desperately.
- Your hands spare no mercy, tangling them in his messy hair, and before you know it you’ve tugged it so hard he gasps and you’ve almost jerked his head away from you. It doesn’t register that it didn’t really hurt him, but more importantly, he liked it. The most seemingly alive reaction from him was how he shuddered and barred down on your hips. His lip quivered like he wouldn’t be able to speak without choking on his words.
- “please, do that again”
Jacob Black
- Beneath the big boy, stronger than you know attitude, lies an anxious puppy boy who craves your touch, more or less, the roughness of it.
- It’s hard for him to keep his big top composure, hovering over you with a glint in his eye that just screamed hungry … with the way he stoops low to bring your lips together, meeting with such lust. His difficulty comes when you can’t help but feel at the mass of fluff that was his hair, gripping so tight and tugging with force that makes him groan in the bitchiest way possible.
- The way that makes him pause for a split second, easing his head against your hand with his face burning hot. It quickens the appearance of the fog on your bedroom windows and has him reaching for the hem of your shirt. He whimpers out between the small gap in his lips.
- “you gotta stop doing this to me, baby..”
Jasper Hale
- It was his desire that got you two here in the first place. No doubt, it’s what he wanted. He’s a naughty guy, with some raunchy little thoughts. And he can manipulate any feeling, especially in the bedroom.
- He can hardly contain it- his pretty little lover perched snugly on his lap, holding onto him like you’d fall. His teeth eagerly nip at the nape of your neck, with his scarred hands easing at your sides. Barely giving you time to catch up as he’s already pulling off your shirt.
-The boy felt overwhelmed just looking at you, bringing you closer, and letting you do whatever you could to him. When his teeth pinch at your bottom lip, your fingers dance through his disheveled blonde hair and tug so slightly when you barred your hips down against him. The mix was enough for him to groan, lowly as he held you a little closer.
- “you’re gettin’ brave, aren’t ya darlin?”
Emmet Cullen
- He’s a man of culture, but a dumb one as well. We aspire to love a man with such himbo energy, as he was most likely one of our firsts ;).
- It was an accident, at first. When you played with the dark curls that lay messily against his head, something told you he needed something more. But of course, you could easily manage your self-control. Your darling boy, Emmet, on the other hand, had a hard time keeping himself together sometimes.
-With his burley hands held on the curve of your ass, his head fit into the crook of your neck with his lips moving so agonizingly slowly against you. It took you by surprise when he barred his teeth against your skin and nipped lightly at your neck. It made you flinch, tugging harshly at his dark curls. The groan that emitted from him was enough to make you shudder and how he shifted could’ve gained reaction from you.
not another vendetta/id!leon post.. wuh oh. thank you for 500 followers ♡
f!reader x dbf!leon, 18+ only. reader wears a bikini, a skirt and some makeup, alcohol consumption, reader is 21+, leon is pushing 40. size kink!!, praise, leon calls reader good girl, baby girl, little one, small, reader calls leon daddy like a couple times, reader is very eager to please, a lot of dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v, creampie. this is purely fictional always use protection and practice safe sex. 4.5k+ of filfth, probably more rushed and messy than it should be not sure how i feel about it, i apologise.
leon s. kennedy,
you only knew of the older man from your father, the two had met during a pub crawl one night, and your father was quite the talker, giving him the rundown on all the best liquors, telling him all kinds of crazy stories about his life (nothing compared to mr. kennedy) and all the trouble he got in to in his younger days, so the two hit it off like a house on fire and suddenly leon kennedy was a part of your father's friend group despite being younger compared to your father, he seemed to relate a lot to him (his entire tab being paid for by his new friend probably helped too).
you were used to it, how sociable your father was, he always made time to enjoy his weekends, whether it be out on the town or inside, and that day was scorching hot so he had decided a garden party was the only option, it seemed silly not to what with the pool in the back yard and a barbeque grill.
with a group message to all his and your mother's friends, the plans were set.
you wouldn't say you were being promiscuous or inappropriate- not on purpose, surely never. it just so happened that your favourite bikini was on the skimpier side, a little triangular bra and thong, and in a colour that complimented your skin strikingly well, some heart sunglasses for some contrast, cute- that's what you'd call it, cute.
did your mom's friends approve? absolutely not, whispering their outrage and shock under their breaths, sending glares over to their husbands, it did make you laugh.
your mom might've cared, and your dad as well- too bad they were already more than tipsy by the time their guests arrived.
the water felt so warm thanks to the sun beaming down on the garden, with your butt perched on the edge of the pool you dangled your legs inside the cool water as you leaned back on your palms, basking in the rays.
"leon!" you heard your father call out in excitement and your head whipped around, you'd never heard of a leon before. "it's so good to see you man, how have you been?"
leon was gorgeous, and that was to put things modestly. he didn't look as old as your other father's friends and good lord he was a hundred times sexier than any of them.
his hair was dark, not too long, but you noticed one side swept over his eye. he had partial stubble along his chin and upper lip, and his dark locks contrasted with his icy blue eyes.
suddenly you were the one ogling, sunglasses tipped down the length of your nose, determined to know more about this leon.
sloshing of the water turned your dad’s attention back to you, encouraging you over to meet his friend, “this is my daughter,” your dad told leon your name before introducing him to you.
“it’s nice to meet you leon.” you smiled, holding out your hand politely to which he shook and you could’ve sworn you saw a smile tugging at his lips.
“it’s nice to meet you too.” he nodded, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes swiftly grazed over your body before distracting himself with the bottle in his hands, “i come bearing gifts.”
you watched from afar when your mother called you into the kitchen to aid her in preparing some food that couldn’t be handled on the grill your father was cooking in, “mama, does leon have a wife?” you blurted out the question before you could even swish it around in your head a little longer.
“hmm, I don’t think so, why’s that?” she laughed, tossing some salad and dressing in a bowl.
“m’ just wondering, dad’s other friends all do.” you hummed, shrugging to make it seem less suspicious.
the food went down well, even better with the delicious cocktails you and your mom whipped together earlier, a delicious buzz whirling throughout your body that had you up and moving towards the kitchen to grab another one.
“you got a spare glass? smashed mine.” you heard a voice call out, jolting in surprise, head bumping the cabinet above you,
“shit.” you cursed under your breath, hand flying up to rub the top of your head, glancing back to see it was the older man you had your eyes on earlier.
“sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” he laughed, footsteps coming closer, “you alright?” a cold but firm grasp was suddenly at your waist, an excuse to lean in and observe the ‘damage’.
oh god, you could smell his cologne, musky and expensive, “i’m good, you didn’t scare me- well, you did a little, but it’s fine.” wow, real smooth.
you could almost feel the vibrations in his chest when he chuckled, you had to lean back against the counter to distance the two of you, your face furrowing in confusion when he only got closer, hand reaching up above your head, “they up here?” he gestured towards the cabinet above your head.
was he toying with you right now?
“t-they’re all the way at the back, we used most of em’ already.” you mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear, “let me check.” you spoke up before twirling yourself around, your hands pushing yourself upwards to go on your tippy toes so you could reach the glass at the back.
you purposefully shoved your ass back against him, back arched to give him a nice view of the expanse of your bare back, small strings of your bikini high on your hips, you were just generous like that. you feigned innocence as you felt around for a few more seconds, “ah-ha!” you cooed, plucking the glass down and turning yourself back to face him, “here you are.” you smiled, tapping the rim of the glass against his chest as his eyes hung a little lower on your body.
“thank you, sweetheart.” his fingertips grazed yours before taking the glass from you, your eyes dashing down to his hand, noticing blood.
“you cut yourself.” you jut your bottom lip out into a pout, extending your arm to grab his wrist and pull him over to the bathroom, glass in his hand long forgotten about.
"it's just from where the glass smashed, it's not a big deal." he was trying to brush it off but you were already grabbing the first aid kit before he could finish his sentence.
"let me look at it under the light." you encouraged him closer as you put yourself up until you were sat on the sink, first aid kit on your lap.
the light from the cabinet above the sink did make it easier to see the cut, it also made it easier to notice how slender his fingers were, veins running all the way up his bulky arms, disappearing under his black compression shirt he wore, "you're not warm like that by the way?" you glanced up from his hand, referring to his shirt, "you can join me in the pool after." you cooed, voice overly sweet as you dabbed some disinfectant on his cut, grabbing a bandaid next.
leon shook his head, a small chuckle leaving his lips, "i'm not sure your parents would appreciate that." oh, were you too obvious? oops.
your eyes rolled at that, legs swaying in the air back and forth as the rip of the paper from the bandaid could be heard in the silence, your nimble fingers pushing the dressing around the cut securely before giving his hand a squeeze to gesture that you were done.
a small sigh escaped your lips as your head leaned back against the cabinet, still perched pretty on top of the sink, your thighs looked plush and soft like this and the way the glitter from your lipgloss sparkled under the light was like its own little spell, a cautious one.
but you, you threw all caution to the wind now he voiced acknowledgment about your little games, your eyes dragged shamelessly over him, twiddling the string of your bikini panties between your fingers, "d'you not wanna touch me?" you spoke quietly.
you heard leon exhale before you felt his fingertips at your lower thighs, pushing them open so he could step closer, “you’re not playing fair.” his head tilted, fingers pinching at the soft flesh of your thighs, “you do this with all your dad’s friends, huh?”
you hummed out, your hand placing on top of his and pushing it even higher up your thigh, “i’m not normally like this, you’re special.” you cooed out, leaning in towards his ears, “i pinky promise.”
you yelped when his fingers pulled the elastic of your panties back until it snapped back against your skin, “aah.” you shivered, legs raising to clench either side of his hips.
"i won't tell anyone." you whined, rubbing your thighs against him to distract the lingering stinging sensation.
the way you sweetened your voice and fluttered your eyelashes had him reeling closer, so close you could feel his hot breath at your neck, smell the scent of sweat on him from the hot scorching day.
your fingers trailed upwards, pushing at his shirt until he grasped firmly at your wrists, shoving them out of the way, “if i got you here, i wanna do things my way.” he spoke directly, eyebrow raised as he looked for what seemed like your confirmation, to which you gave him a prompt nod, perhaps a little eagerly.
“good girl.” two simple words and your stomach was doing somersaults, all the blood rushing straight to your cheeks. it sounded like pure honey falling from his lips, sweeter than the cocktails you had previously enjoyed.
leon didn’t miss the way the little pet name clearly had you dazed either, he was quite attentive, fingers grazing back and forth over the goosebumps on your thigh whilst the other was placed at your chin, thumb rubbing along your jaw, "you're such a pretty little thing, your old man told me he had a beautiful, smart daughter at home.. i should've believed him more, i shouldn't have come." he snickered, shaking his head.
"it's too late for that now." you huffed, knocking your head to his and catching his lips until they meshed with yours, feeling his stubble graze your skin, igniting pulses of desire straight between your legs.
he didn't bite, you only felt him relax a little into the kiss before pushing himself away with an expression you couldn't read on his face, "you're making it hard to think straight."
you laughed at that, "don't think at all, that's what i like to do." you winked, "just do what feels good." you giggled and leon could feel his heart skip a beat, you were so damn cute.
"fuck.." he threw his head back, chuckling at the situation he found himself in. when his attention was back on you he noticed your fingers between your legs, rubbing your fingers against your clothed pussy.
"mh-mh," he shook his head, swatting away your hand, "let me take care of you, sweetheart." he breathed out, fingers tucking under your panties, dragging them all the way down before flinging them somewhere on the floor, long forgotten about along with his sense of morals.
you whimpered at the feeling of cold porcelain on your bare skin, feeling your pussy brush against it when he pushed your thighs open, "s-shit.." you whimpered.
you almost forgot to keep breathing when you watched him kneel down, taking a position in between your legs, perching them both over his shoulders, fingertips squeezing and rubbing the outside of your thighs, "you don't mind if i'm a little selfish and have a taste first, yeah baby?" he blinked up at you and if the feeling of your thighs already squeezing around his head wasn't enough, maybe the audible moan followed up by a mantra of "yes, yes, yes" was enough.
"you're so cute, you get excited about the littlest things." he observed, leaning in to press wet, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, stubble scraping along your skin.
"n-no i don't." you tried to deny out of embarrassment, only getting a chuckle of disbelief in response, knowing your body's reactions spoke for itself.
he breathed you in, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue dashed out to lick upwards to your clit, the tip of his tongue circling over the sensitive little nub which had your finger flying in his hair, "ohh, my god.." you mewled, hips already pushing up towards his face for more which he was happy to oblige.
flattening his tongue allowed you to feel him everywhere, every little inch of your cunt being showered with attention, your legs kicking against his upper back until he pulled back, allowing you a second to breathe though he didn't waste it, spitting on your clit and letting the saliva run down your pussy just so he could tongue fuck it inside you.
he had a firm grasp on your thighs now, tongue pressing past your puffy lips and inside you, pushing his tongue further and further, breathing you in until the tip of his nose pushed deliciously against your clit, grinding against it for further friction, "pleasuhh-nghnn," you brokenly moaned, legs trembling either side of him, but he kept going and it was almost embarrassing how sloppy he sounded, eating you out like he was starved, only pulling back when he wanted to pay attention to your poor puffy clit, tongue flicking and prodding before his lips sealed around it, sucking the sensitive little nub into his mouth and groaning which added a mouth-watering vibration, "daddy, please." you gasped out.
you clearly spoke too soon when a sudden knock of someone's fist against the wooden door pulled you out of your bliss.
you could've cried when he pulled away to stand up, pleasure fizzling out into nothing, legs squeezing together to maintain the warmth of where he had been perched, "don't.." you pleaded, grabbing a hold of his arms and pushing him towards you, bare soaked pussy grinding against the belt he had on around his waist.
"leon, you in here?" your father's voice spoke up again, the door handle rattling, leon gave your arm a reassuring squeeze before he plucked your bikini panties off the ground, stuffing them in his pocket and opening the door just wide enough to slip out.
being the gentleman he is, he wiped the residue of glistening saliva and cum from his mouth and chin with the back of his hand before speaking up with an excuse, "sorry, was just cooling down."
you heard your father announce needing help with something that happened in the front yard.
both their footsteps wandered away and you cursed aloud, jumping off the sink and stomping your feet on the floor, why now?!
your head peaked out of the bathroom ever so slightly until you knew the coast was clear, scurrying to your bedroom to pick up your skirt, tugging it up until you were decent enough.
with quick steps you rushed down the stairs only to see everyone in the front yard, “what happened?” you asked your mom.
“steve got a little too drunk and saw the keys still in leon’s bike.. he crashed it into the bush.” she pointed to the damage and your eyes widened, it wasn’t like it was irreversible damage but by the way leon was tugging it out of the branches and accessing things, it didn’t look good either.
“oops..” you whispered under your breath, noticing the panicked man profusely apologising and promising to pay for any damages.
leon didn’t look too concerned though- with all things considered, only brushing the man off and mumbling about how he’ll fix it himself, that no one else should be touching it anymore, as he perches it up, stuffing the keys in his back pocket- alongside your panties.
“i’m sorry man, you always have a place to crash here or we can get you a cab back home, come back for it when you can, don’t stress yourself any further.” your dad tried to fix the situation, patting leon on the back as his other friend looked like a kicked dog, wife in his ear scolding him.
“think i’ll have to crash here, i’ll bring a friend over to help me take it back tomorrow, would rather not let her outta my sight anymore.” he forced out a chuckle.
the night drew in much quicker what with your father’s friends' antics, despite leon trying to play it cool and telling them it was no big deal, clearly, there was some tension which had everyone saying their goodbyes as the sun set and the night grew on.
“darling, can you go grab leon some fresh sheets and pillows for the night?” you heard your dad call out, turning on your feet before leon could even protest.
you hopped up the stairs and towards your room, plucking out your clean strawberry sheets with a matching plush pillow for the older man, happily bringing it down and presenting them to him, “sorry if they’re not your style.” you cooed, eyelashes fluttering at him once again.
“they’re just what i like, don’t worry.” he played along before, two-finger saluting both of your parents goodnight with a thank you as they declared they were going to bed, clearly the alcohol and mood change helping their swift decision to head to bed
“is everything okay?” you followed closely behind him like a puppy dog, bumping into his back when he halted his steps as he reached the living room, throwing the bed sheets on the couch.
“it happened, no point still being angry about it, i can fix it anyway.” he told you, glancing behind his shoulder before turning to face you, arms crossing over his chest as though he was expecting something from you.
“what?” you pouted, looking up at him, doe eyes and puffed out cheeks.
“you can’t leave me alone even after almost getting caught?” his head tilted and suddenly you felt a lot smaller underneath him.
you didn’t know how to respond, part of you was humiliated, the other wanting to bite back, “i was worried!” you whined, fist coming up to hit his chest.
leon laughed, pushing his hair out of his face and walking into you until your knees buckled and you fell back against the couch, “you’re so cute.” you didn’t have time to think, already feeling his thumb push past your lips and settle on your tongue.
“such a pretty little thing.” he sighed out, eyebrows furrowed as he admired every little detail on your face, eyes grazing over your features.
“you want me so bad don’t you sweetheart?” his voice hummed out sweetly, forcing you to nod your head, though you didn’t need to be, willing to do anything he asked of you, waiting at his beckon and call.
“sweet thing.” leon pulled his hand away, grasping the end of his shirt and pulling it over his head, your eyes wasting no time taking in everything you could, the way his muscles were defined, how a light sheen of sweat was sticky on top of his skin and how the trail of dark curly hair lead from his bellybutton down into the waistband of his boxers.
“please..” you whined out, hand going up to squeeze his arm, pulling it until he was touching your neck, dragging it towards your chest.
his eyes lazily followed your movements, fingers tugging under the straps of your bikini bra until the skimpy fabric fell into your lap, “want my skirt off next daddy?” you asked him, head tilted up as your fingers already went towards the zip.
he shook his head, tongue darting out to lick over his bottom lip, admiring your pretty tits and the peek of your thighs under your skirt puddling over your lap, “no no, keep it on, it’s cute.”
his pants came off next, your eyes watching him cup his erection through his boxers, stroking himself on top of the fabric, "lemme help." you shifted closer, tongue licking the outline of him, the texture of the cotton fabric grazing against your tastebuds, licking a trail upwards to the tip of his dick pushing against the fabric.
you let leon push down his boxers, his hard cock slapping back against his chest, standing tall with the tip the prettiest red you had ever seen, glistening with a bead of his pearly precum.
you giggled, leaning in to lick from his balls, upwards his length, tongue feeling the veins running up the underside of him before the muscle reached his tip, kitten licking up the sticky cum whilst his hand rested at the back of your head. pushing you further against him, his other hand gripped at the base of his cock, slapping the tip of himself on your tongue and watching you go cross-eyed.
you let him guide you until the tip of him was pushed past your swollen lips, "mmh, that's it sexy." he groaned out, "you're so sweet, baby, i'd love to have you choking on this cock one day." he chuckled out, feeling you push yourself further down, as though you were proving yourself, hearing your pathetic little sputtering and gagging already.
"be careful little one, s'okay." he stroked the top of your head and you let your throat relax, drool pushing past the corner of your lips and tears stinging at your eyes, "you don't have to take it all, you're only a small thing."
his words were making your fingers curl into his hips, nails dragging down his skin hard enough to decorate him with red marks, you so badly wanted to keep going but you were far too excited, you had lost yourself already trying to impress him, failing but he found it cute, he found everything about you so fucking cute.
"shh, shh.." he hushed you when you pulled your mouth away to speak, thumb flicking away some stray tears that landed on your cheeks, "don't worry about it sweetheart, you make me feel good just sitting there looking so pretty."
you could feel your heart flutter out of your chest, swallowing down any humiliation and need to apologise for the sad attempt of pleasing him with your mouth, you couldn't help it, your head was a little foggy as soon as he started speaking.
you watched as he next lifted his hand up, finger twirling in the air, indicating that he wanted you to turn around, "all fours for me." he helped you maneuver into a comfortable position on the couch, your back arched, head stuffed into the strawberry printed cotton sheets and your legs spread to accommodate leon behind you.
"you have the prettiest little pussy i've ever seen, y'know that?" he uttered behind you, hand squeezing your ass, spreading you open as he pushed himself flush against you, feeling the way your pussy pulse around nothing whilst he teasingly dragged himself back and forth your slippery folds.
"n-need it, need it so bad.." you mewled out, wiggling your ass a little to try and find some friction, your skirt shifting up higher on your waist. you lurched forward suddenly when he pushed his cock inside you without warning, your squeal muffled by the sheets.
"oh.. shit, fuckkkk.." he dragged out his words as he felt your pussy pulsate and contract around him, "holy fuck, you're so- mhfm," he had to cut himself off to take a second, "so fucking tight." he exhaled, hand placing at your lower back where your skirt was, grabbing a fistful of the fabric to help you push back and forth on his cock.
"you gotta be quiet yeah? don't wanna wake your parents up.." he chuckled, hips reeling back before pushing into you again, "imagine the look on your old man's face, finding his sweet daughter fucked stupid by the man he invited into his home." he grunted, pulling you flush against him with the help of his grasp on your skirt.
"poor thing, you can't help it can you baby? you wanted this dick so bad, i don't blame you sweetheart, i really don't." he cooed mockingly as his pace became more consistently deeper and more violent.
drool was pooling on your freshly washed sheets, countless sobs of pleasure and chants of leon's name deafened thanks to your head being stuffed into the couch. you couldn't care about anything he was insinuating, if this was bad then why did it feel sooo good.
you felt a stretch in your shoulder when he grabbed your arm behind your back, pulling it towards him, "that's it, pussy feels so damn good." he groaned much louder than he should've considering what he scolded you before just moments before.
"feels s'good!" you sobbed out. you could feel his hips slapping against your thighs and your ass, you could hear it every time he drilled his fat cock into you, incoherent babbling against the sheets and fat tears rolling down your cheeks, growing closer and closer each time he shoved himself down your dripping cunt.
"right there? yeah, i know you like that dick, can feel you fucking squeezing me back in every time i'm not deep in your guts." he laughed out euphorically, feeling as though you were driving him crazy, he'd never been this dumbfounded over pussy before.
"in—" you squealed out, legs trembling, "inside! o-oh my fughnnn, cum inside!" you blubbered out desperately, fingers clawing at the sheets underneath you, no regard for your volume, far too gone.
your breath was heaving and you couldn't stop the constant squeals of joy and tears flowing as your body shivered with pure bliss, leon noticed this and didn't let up on his pace, hips jackhammering into you erratically and if he didn't have a grip on your skirt and your arm you would've been flung to the other side of the couch, "that's it baby girl, cum on my cock, you're doing so well, m'so proud." he praised.
your stomach clenched and spasmed as your release washed over your entire body, muscles trembling and jolting, voice breathless and hoarse whilst leon fucked your sticky release back into you, desperate to chase his own high, holding you steady so you wouldn't fall limply against the couch.
"ah!" leon grunted, soppy wet sounds of your pussy bouncing off of the walls as he continuously pounded into your abused pussy, "i'm cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck!" he gritted his teeth, pushing his hips flush against you as he whispered out breathlessly, "take it, take it baby." warm hot ropes of his cum spurting out and filling up your pussy.
you were completely spent but something about the sensation had you feeling so warm, so full it made your toes curl and you regained enough energy to push back against him, not wanting to lose even a drop of it.
you both spent more than a few minutes like this, basking in each other's warmth and closeness until you were collapsing from exhaustion, whimpering at the empty, sticky feeling between your legs.
leon leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your back and shoulders, rubbing and squeezing your waist to relieve any tension, "let me clean you up." was the last thing you heard him say, your eyes growing heavier and heavier.
leon didn't mind, he cleaned you up well, lifted you up, and quietly headed to your bedroom, tucking you into bed after ridding you of your skirt which he ripped, so you could enjoy your peaceful slumber for the night as he slipped away back downstairs to remove any evidence of what happened before the sun would come up and he would have to face your father once again.
no specific pronouns, but use of the word girl at the end. ily❤️
Edward Cullen
- Something simple can change the course of any action if it’s relevant enough. And in this case, you tugged enough to gain his reaction.
- His hands hover over your hips, too afraid to bare down in fear he’d lose control. Though it isn’t him who’s losing it, in this case. With your lips tied firmly with his, the jittery feeling that flows through your bloodstream just won’t stop. And it’s your heartbeat that he craves so desperately.
- Your hands spare no mercy, tangling them in his messy hair, and before you know it you’ve tugged it so hard he gasps and you’ve almost jerked his head away from you. It doesn’t register that it didn’t really hurt him, but more importantly, he liked it. The most seemingly alive reaction from him was how he shuddered and barred down on your hips. His lip quivered like he wouldn’t be able to speak without choking on his words.
- “please, do that again”
Jacob Black
- Beneath the big boy, stronger than you know attitude, lies an anxious puppy boy who craves your touch, more or less, the roughness of it.
- It’s hard for him to keep his big top composure, hovering over you with a glint in his eye that just screamed hungry … with the way he stoops low to bring your lips together, meeting with such lust. His difficulty comes when you can’t help but feel at the mass of fluff that was his hair, gripping so tight and tugging with force that makes him groan in the bitchiest way possible.
- The way that makes him pause for a split second, easing his head against your hand with his face burning hot. It quickens the appearance of the fog on your bedroom windows and has him reaching for the hem of your shirt. He whimpers out between the small gap in his lips.
- “you gotta stop doing this to me, baby..”
Jasper Hale
- It was his desire that got you two here in the first place. No doubt, it’s what he wanted. He’s a naughty guy, with some raunchy little thoughts. And he can manipulate any feeling, especially in the bedroom.
- He can hardly contain it- his pretty little lover perched snugly on his lap, holding onto him like you’d fall. His teeth eagerly nip at the nape of your neck, with his scarred hands easing at your sides. Barely giving you time to catch up as he’s already pulling off your shirt.
-The boy felt overwhelmed just looking at you, bringing you closer, and letting you do whatever you could to him. When his teeth pinch at your bottom lip, your fingers dance through his disheveled blonde hair and tug so slightly when you barred your hips down against him. The mix was enough for him to groan, lowly as he held you a little closer.
- “you’re gettin’ brave, aren’t ya darlin?”
Emmet Cullen
- He’s a man of culture, but a dumb one as well. We aspire to love a man with such himbo energy, as he was most likely one of our firsts ;).
- It was an accident, at first. When you played with the dark curls that lay messily against his head, something told you he needed something more. But of course, you could easily manage your self-control. Your darling boy, Emmet, on the other hand, had a hard time keeping himself together sometimes.
-With his burley hands held on the curve of your ass, his head fit into the crook of your neck with his lips moving so agonizingly slowly against you. It took you by surprise when he barred his teeth against your skin and nipped lightly at your neck. It made you flinch, tugging harshly at his dark curls. The groan that emitted from him was enough to make you shudder and how he shifted could’ve gained reaction from you.
Can you please do Laurence xFem reader rough smut, preferably Laurence being the dominant one?
Word Count: 1.9k+ words
Content Warning: Cheating(Y/N), Laurance is a little mean, dirty talk, degradation, edging, a bit of impact play(ass smacking), hair pulling, tbh he might be a little OOC, laur fucks reader in front of the mirror, also a mixture of smut and angst?? idk man im in a mood
takes place during the first season of ms, since idk if u wanted ms or mcd
----
Laurance was.. well, he was jealous. Really fucking jealous of Garroth. Of course Mr.Pretty Boy had to pull some shit like this.
After the last failed attempt to get Aphmau, a little bit before her, the girls, and the guys had all moved onto Mystreet, Garroth and Laurance had begun looking for somebody else to pursue. And once everyone was on Mystreet, Zane had been seen with some girl one day, and Aphmau practically leaped at the opportunity for a new girl friend, and had started bringing her around everyone aside from the cyclops.
[Y/N] had been invited to the Christmas party, the New Years party, and generally any regular hang outs.
Laurance should've known better than to open his mouth about liking [Y/N], or at least admitting she was attractive, to the guys. Dante and Garroth immediately had tried to woo [Y/N], and while Dante made it clear to everyone involved, his attempts at flirting were mere jokes, Garroth was serious.
Way too fucking serious.
So now, Laurance gets to sit back and listen to Garroth's stupid fucking headboard slam into the wall connecting their rooms, and your failed attempts to keep quiet. He hates the fact he's the only light sleeper in the house, and the fact Travis and Dante don't have to listen to this shit. It makes Laurance's heart throb sadly, and tears prick at his eyes. Irene, he loves Garroth dearly but he could be such a selfish asshole sometimes.
Luckily for Laurance, the headboard crashing against the wall only lasts a couple minutes longer before it stops, and the house falls silent. He carefully, and hesitantly, removes the pillow from around his head, and once he deems there isn't going to be round two, he stands up and walks out of his room. He freezes once he turns and sees you walking into the bathroom, not even seeming to notice him. You have on one of Garroth's shirts, which is big enough to nearly be a dress on you.
You don't shut the door behind you, and he can understand why. It's nearly three in the morning.
No one else should be awake right now. But he is, and from the sound of Garroth's snoring, he's the only other one awake now.
Once Laurance has you bent over in the shower, it takes everything in him to not feel guilty. But, Garroth had shown him that when it comes to girls: they are rivals, not friends. He reminds himself. If Garroth wants a rival, he'll get a fucking rival.
Laurance presses his hand into your lower back, not even thrusting at all, just watching you move your hips back to his, legs trembling and threatening to give out from under you. He starts to wonder if Garroth isn't doing it right, since you hadn't taken much convincing, and you seem so close already, despite the two of you just getting started. Maybe everyone overestimated the blonde's abilities in bed.
You shove your hips back into Laurance's, holding onto the metal bar mounted on the wall to keep yourself up. You feel dirty, despite the hot water spraying over you and Laurance. You are cheating on your boyfriend with his best friend after all. You try to justify it however you can, Garroth wasn't meeting your needs, and didn't seem to understand what you wanted even when you told him what to do step by step. And there were worse people you could cheat on him with!
Laurance is better than sleeping with Vylad or Zane, after all. That would hurt him so much worse, and you aren't trying to hurt him, if you were you would go after one of them. You don't need to feel guilty. Right?
Laurance huffs softly, grabbing her hips and pummeling his forward suddenly, very quickly dragging you out of your thoughts. "Oh come on, don't give me the silent treatment so soon." Laurance cooes in your ear, his voice the polar opposite of his fast and forceful thrusts. He pulls your hair back away from your face, holding it back in a ponytail and tugging your head back a bit.
"I- I'm sorry, what- what's.. what did you say?" You manage to get out between moans, gripping the metal bar so tightly that your knuckles are going white. You see Laurance grin before he tugs your hair, making you moan out loudly.
"I asked if you wanted to change positions, since your legs look like they're about to give out, but maybe I should keep you like this for ignoring me. Just fuck you until you collapse." Laurance stops his movements, pushing his hips as forward as they'll go, and you whine out, trying to rock your hips back against his.
"Mm, why'd you stop?" You frown a little and he pats your ass softly, not saying anything as he pulls out. He has you stand up straight before he picks you up carefully so he doesn't slip and drop you, pressing you into the wall and putting your legs around his waist.
"So many questions." Laurance sighs, one hand gripping your ass as the other guides his tip, running up and down between your folds, a little amused with how wet you are. He should've done this sooner, maybe then Garroth wouldn't have you. From the looks of it, he doesn't deserve you anyways, clearly. Can't even fuck you right, despite it seeming like it's a nightly occurrence. You'd think he would know what he's doing by now, right?
"Hurry up." You nearly bark at him, and as soon as his soft blue eyes shoot up to meet your gaze, you regret saying anything, especially in the tone you had given. At first he looks a little surprised, but then his eyes narrow, and his nails are suddenly digging into the soft flesh on your ass.
"As you wish, princess." Laurance shoves into you, calling you the same pet name Garroth usually did in bed as he did so. His free hand grips your jaw as he goes right back to slamming into you, preferring this position over the last one. At least now he can look you in the eyes while he fucks you.
Maybe if he's lucky he'll fuck you so nicely that you'll ditch Garroth's ass, and come running to him instead. He'll welcome you with open arms of course, how could he not? After all, you look so gorgeous split open on his cock like this, and you sound even better. It's like you're not even trying to hide how good he's making you feel! Or at least trying to keep quiet so you don't wake up any of the boys.
He feels your walls tighten around you, and hears you whimper that you're going to come. He stops in his tracks, and wonders how Garroth would react if he walked in on the two of you. If he got up to use the bathroom and walked in to see his best friend's cock completely hidden inside his little girlfriend. Oh he can imagine the look of hurt and betrayal on the bastard's face.
"Laurance you asshole." You hiss softly at him, glaring as he just grins lazily at you. Your orgasm had already fled now, and it left your clit slightly throbbing in anticipation. Laurance mutters some bullshit apology before he starts thrusting again, and you can only stay angry for a few more moments before you're practically melting into the wall, arms around Laurance's neck as you listen to the sound of his hips hitting the back of your thighs, sending droplets of water in different directions.
"Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll let you come." Laurance softly bites your ear, and you huff at the mere idea, rolling your eyes, though he doesn't see it.
"Sorry, Laurance, but I don't beg, or 'ask nicely.'" You tell him, and you feel him fully sheath himself inside of you for a moment, rocking his hips into yours like that so your clit was rubbing into his lower belly. The sensation catches you off guard, and you moan a little loudly, dragging your nails down his upper arms and leaving red lines in your wake.
"Well, here's the thing, either you beg, or you're just not going to get to come. I can tell when you get close, [Y/N], it's going to be so easy for me to just stop when you're right on the edge of bliss." Laurance nearly whispers that last bit against your lips, and you whine a little. "You know what? Out of the shower. Water's starting to get cold anyways." Laurance orders, gently setting you down on the floor as he turns the water off.
You watch him, standing on shaky legs, and within moments you're pressed into the sink's counter, in front of the mirror. Oh. Oh, he's going to make you watch yourself? Alright, yeah, he's definitely doing some stuff you're not used to, not that you're really complaining.
Laurance doesn't give you much time to get comfortable against the counter as he shoves into you, and you let out a loud moan, this time no running water to muffle you. You go to put your hands over your mouth, but Laurance seems to realize what you're doing and pins your wrists behind your back with one hand.
He hits your ass with his free hand, and it only takes a few more thrusts before your mind feels like it's cracking and breaking with each thrust. You let out loud, drawn out moans, and he grins, starting to breathe a little shakily as he gets close to coming. He squeezes your ass cheek, and feels your walls tighten.
"Aw, is somebody close again? So soon too, we barely got into this position, you must really love my cock, [Y/N], I have to admit, it's a little fucking pathetic." Laurance growls as he leans down to your ear, biting once again. He was partially trying to distract himself from coming before you, since he knows he usually could only go for one long round and not several short ones like Garroth. But he was also partly trying to drive you closer to your orgasm, and when he heard you babbling and begging him to let you come, he grinned.
"Of course, baby, come for me. Come for Laurance." He purrs in your ear, cock throbbing and twitching a bit. "I bet Garroth can't make you feel this good, can he?" He asks, and his vision goes blank for a moment when he sees you shake your head, muttering a 'no, he can't', and that little confirmation that he's better than Garroth- at least in this way- sends him over the edge. He quickly pulls out, just being doing it in time as he comes across your ass and back, making him groan and pant a little.
You start avoiding him after that. He isn't sure why, until he's in the kitchen at the same time as you one day, and sees a diamond ring on one of your fingers. He asks Dante about it and his worst fear is confirmed; you and Garroth are getting married.
Synopsis: You're shelving books like normal at work when a new face comes into the store. And in a small town where everyone knows each other, a new face really stands out. Especially when it's one that makes you burn in ways you never have.
Warnings: nsfw, fluffy, and a smidge of angst content; lots of dirty talk, sexual tension, virgin!reader, reader has a praise kink, bit of humiliation/dabi mocks the reader, dabi really fucking likes messing and teasing with the reader like all the time, semi-public foreplay & almost getting caught, fingering, clit & nipple play, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, smidge of overstimulation, dabi likes to bite the reader sometimes, choking, dabi's sweet sometimes, and first time sex for reader/dabi has a virginity kink
Word Count: 19k
A/N: Bad boy Dabi has taken over my thoughts. I would absolutely die for this man.
Dabi’s eyes were sharp—they always were. He was always observing, studying his surroundings like he was waiting. For what, you never knew. But he was always watching. And he watched you.
It started when he came in the first time. He was with friends, but he wasn’t paying them any mind. He was looking around the bookstore—at the other customers, the employees, and occasionally the books. He didn’t hold much interest in those his friends approached. But when they passed the horror section, his focus shifted.
You hadn't intended to stare, but you were shelving books at the other end of the bookcase, and he'd caught your eye. Dark clothes, dark hair, piercings that littered his features. Blue eyes that seemed to hold a world of mystery behind them and a smile that absolutely killed.
And when he glanced up and caught you staring, he aimed that wicked grin right at you.
You felt like you belonged in a vampire novel, dressed in some sheer white nightgown as the vampire love interest got ready to devour you.
Then he winked, and the stomach-twisting, skin-tingling reaction you felt was deep.
You were the first to look away, forcing yourself to return to work. Overly aware of how your hands shook, you took a steadying breath as you shelved book after book. But in the corner of your vision, you caught him picking up a book and pretending to read the back cover. But his eyes kept flickering back to you. His gaze was too hot to not notice. It felt like flames trickling down the back of your neck.
"(Y/N)!" Your manager said in your ear, and you jumped, almost pulling the little communicator earpiece out. "Can you hop on register? We're backed up a bit here."
You had to take a moment to catch your breath. For some unknown reason, you stole a peek at the dark-haired customer and he seemed personally amused at your reaction. Your cheeks burned as you glanced down at the cart and pressed the little button on your communicator.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” You pushed the cart as out of the way as you could manage and tried not to move too awkwardly to the front.
You were secretly grateful you'd been called up—you weren't liking how hot it was starting to feel in that row. Being behind the register helped satiate the tingling in your chest. Until you got the line of customers down, blinded by each person walking up to you before you could even flag them down. And then, when you glanced up to help the next person, the dark-haired stranger was standing right in front of you.
“Hi,” you muttered—all your subconscious customer service script out the window.
“Hi,” he purred. Purred. He handed you his book, his fingers covered in silver rings.
You looked down at it and momentarily forgot you were supposed to ring it up. A horror book, a title you recognized only from having just shelved a copy. Mentally slapping yourself, you cleared your throat and scanned the barcode.
“Uh, do you have a rewards card with us?”
“No, I’m new to town.” His hand rested on the counter and he drummed his fingers.
"Would you like to sign up for one?" You inhaled shakily. "I can do it for you right now or you can sign up later online. It's a fifteen-dollar annual charge."
“Next time.”
“That works.” You nodded a little too much. “Want a bag?”
“Sure.” He gave you a small smirk and you felt it in your chest.
"Okay, can do. Uh, that'll be nineteen dollars and eighty-five cents. Will that be cash or card?"
"Cash." He passed you a twenty and you muttered a thank you, fumbling with the change as the drawer opened. You were out of nickels so you had to either open a roll or go for pennies. With how nervous you felt, you opted for pennies. Until you dropped two of them after you'd closed your drawer and sighed.
“Sorry,” you murmured and fell to your knees, fumbling to find the two that fell. Attempting a laugh, you got them and stood, giving him a tight smile as you passed him his change.
“Don’t worry about it.”
His fingers grazed yours, and it was a striking contrast of warm skin and cold metal—it made your heart race. You almost jerked your hand back at the contact, but you seemed frozen in place until he pulled his hand away.
“Thanks.” You slid his receipt into the cover of his book, then his book into the bag, and pushed it towards him. “Have a good day, sir.”
His eyes dropped down to the apron you wore as he took his bag. “You too, (Y/N).”
You bit your lip as you watched him leave, standing behind the register even when there were no customers left waiting. Five minutes—it was a total of five minutes between seeing him in the little aisle and at the register. And you felt too hot, and your heart was beating too fast.
Your manager had to dismiss you before you collected yourself to go back to your cart. The rest of your shift flew by because you kept thinking back to the dark-haired stranger with the really blue eyes and the silver jewelry and the wicked smile.
The desire to know more outweighed the nerves of meeting new people. And it was only the desire to know more—nothing else.
Unfortunately, working at a bookstore meant you might not see him again for a while. So by the time you woke up for your shift the next morning, your hopes had dwindled. He was just another customer—someone you’d maybe see again in a month. He probably wouldn’t even remember you if he did come back.
So you worked your whole shift telling yourself he wasn’t coming in. You weren’t going to see him again. He bought one book, he probably wouldn’t be back until he finished it. And if he was a slow reader, that could be weeks or months. If at all.
A small part of you wished he'd still come in, and you subconsciously kept glancing towards the entrance. But he didn't come in. Not that shift, not the one the next day, and not the one the day after that. Thankfully, you had more luck focusing on literally anything else on your day off. You baked, procrastinated cleaning, read, and then grabbed dinner and a movie out of town with friends.
It was a good day—it was nice. And then you were back home, asleep in bed and readying yourself to wake up for your next shift.
You were tired. More tired than you liked for what was going to be a nine-hour shift. You went from shelving books to hopping on register the whole time—it was too much walking for how much you wanted to be at home and in bed.
By hour eight, you were shelving books a little too slowly, tired of pushing the cart, so your manager put you on register. It was slow enough that you got to stand there and just unwind. Until you had to make yourself look busy, so you turned around and adjusted the magazines and books that were kept for display behind the counter. It was pointless trying to make it look perfect; nobody ever bought them. But it passed the time.
“Little to the left,” a voice said behind you and you jumped, spinning around and seeing those pretty blue eyes. He was holding up—unexpectedly—a book. “Hi again.”
“Hi,” you breathed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be…uh. Sorry. Let me get you checked out.”
He handed you his book and you scanned it, trying your best not to show your excitement at seeing him again.
"Did you sign up for the rewards program?" You slid his book into a bag, and he shook his head.
“Nah, forgot.”
"You know it does save you a fair bit of money." Most times, you would've just waved the customer along—they weren't interested, and your manager wasn't around for you to push the card. But you wanted to talk to him more. "Want me to sign you up?"
“Next time.”
You nodded and totaled the order. “That’s what you said last time.”
He handed you the cash and shrugged. "You remember that interaction pretty well, don't ya." The implication went unsaid and your cheeks flushed.
“We don’t get a lot of new faces—so the new folks tend to be more memorable.” It was the best cover you could come up with and you made his change. “Here you go, sir.”
“Dabi,” he said as he took the change. “Let you put a name to this new face.”
“Well, welcome to town, Dabi.” You held out a hand, leaning over the counter as smooth as you could manage.
Dabi smirked and took your hand, giving it a firm shake. “Thanks.”
His hand lingered in yours, just as his glittering eyes and devious smirk did, and the sound of footsteps made you jerk it back. Fraternizing with the customers could get you in trouble. You rolled your shoulders and put your hands on Dabi's bag, pushing it towards him as your manager walked up behind you, moving to take a till from another register.
Dabi cocked a brow as his eyes went from you to your manager, following them as they started to leave.
“Uh, have a good evening, sir,” you muttered and Dabi’s eyes finally went back to yours.
“Yeah.” He took the bag. “You too.”
You watched him leave yet again, wishing you hadn't been stuck behind a register so you could talk to him a little longer. But you were stuck there, your heart racing as he stole a glance back at you and winked.
That night, when you got home and fell asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow, you got another glimpse of Dabi. It was nothing more than him coming up behind you at the bookstore, reaching over your shoulder for a book. His chest pressed against your back and he cocked his head to the side as he read the back blurb.
"Interesting," he breathed beside your ear. He turned the cover over but in its place was a mirror, showing your reflection. He rested his chin on your shoulder as he looked into the mirror. His mouth grazed your neck and his eyes were a sharper, devilish blue as he looked at you. "Like what you see?"
You woke up as you felt his hand slide onto your waist.
Shaking your head and running your hands over your face, you got up and got ready for the day.
You saw him four more times after that. That day, the next, and twice a few days later. Three consisted of him coming to your register or the one next to it. The one time he didn't, your coworker was riddled speechless and stuttered through their words worse than you did.
Each of those three times, he said hello, goodbye, and see you later. You tried not to get your hopes up that maybe he wasn't just coming to your register because he liked you as a cashier. Or that his smiles were just him being polite—the same way yours were for every other customer. Which was why you tried your best to differentiate it.
Although it wasn't hard to do whenever you got a little shy when he came around. He made you nervous in ways you weren't used to but secretly liked. He was handsome, he was a person you hadn't known all your life, and he drove you absolutely wild in ways you didn't even let yourself explore behind closed doors.
You just hoped the flirting was reciprocated, and it wasn't you embarrassing yourself every time he came in.
But then the fourth time rolled around, and you found him getting a coffee from the small cafe the store had. He glanced up as you pushed a cart from the back, and he smirked as your eyes locked.
“Hi.” You stopped beside him as he sauntered up. There was still a ways to go to the horror section, but Dabi was right there. “You either must really neglect your books, or you're a very fast reader with how often you come in here."
“I wonder.” He nodded at the cart. “Where you headed?”
“Horror.”
“Care for some company?”
“Sure.”
Dabi walked beside you, occasionally sipping his drink until you got to the section. He hung back a bit as you set the cart in place and started to do what you were supposed to. But it was hard when every time you walked by Dabi, his eyes glanced up and watched you.
"It's neither." He peered over his shoulder as you grabbed another group of books from the cart, and you stopped, brows furrowed.
“What is?”
“Why I come to the bookstore.” He put the book back and his mouth tipped into a smirk. “I like the company. Far better than any book.”
Your entire body burned as Dabi's eyes slowly dropped down to your mouth. He didn't even move—all he was doing was looking at you and looking damn good while he did it—and it went directly south. A twisting sensation was building and you realized you were breathing a little too quickly.
“Yeah, I’m finding I like the company more these days than normal.” You bit your lip and Dabi tipped his chin up.
“(Y/N).”
You jumped as the manager on duty for the afternoon came up beside you, looking between you and Dabi. He was significantly more strict than the other managers, and you cringed. You didn't want any marks—you were a good worker, you'd proved that the past three years you worked there. But he was strict.
“You shouldn’t be fraternizing on the job. We have an upkeep to maintain, you know this. Don’t make me remind you again.”
“Right. Sorry, sir. I—”
“She’s helping me find a book.” Dabi wasn’t a big guy—his frame was lean and if he was toned, it was hidden under his dark coat and clothes. But he took up space and dominated it like a bigger person would. He gave the manager a sickening smile. The innocence looked wrong on him. “Didn’t mean to steal her away.”
There was a pointless challenge issued there. Either cause a scene and call Dabi out on the lie—which would also anger a customer—or just accept it and move on. The manager went with the latter, nodding and telling you to carry on.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you said as you grabbed more books to shelve. “But I appreciate it.”
“I’m aware. You weren’t going to, so I figured I should.”
“I wasn’t going to what? Lie?”
"Oh, don't tell me you don't lie." Dabi gave you a skeptical look, and you frowned.
“Not when it isn’t necessary. Lies stack up. Besides, I panicked. I’ve worked here long enough for them to know I don’t break the rules.”
"Ever?" His eyes widened, and he scoffed. "You don't break the rules here?"
“I…don’t usually break rules.” You glanced away. “I don’t like being a troublemaker.”
Dabi nodded, stepping closer, his finger dragging along the shelves until he was right beside you. He pretended to look at the spines of the books, angling until his shoulder touched yours.
“You’re a goody-two-shoes.” He chuckled under his breath and you latched onto it. “That’s adorable.”
“I am not.” You narrowed your eyes—the books were out of order on the shelf. “It’s just easier avoiding conflict. Besides, I’m like the best employee here and everyone knows it. I like that.”
“Oh.” Dabi’s smirk deepened. “So you like to be praised.”
“I didn’t say that. No, see, it’s about proving my worth—”
"Uh-huh." Dabi leaned a little closer and your hands twitched as you rearranged the books to the correct order. "So, let's say I'm your manager and I notice you handled a difficult customer well. You wouldn't like it at all if I pulled you aside and praised you for it?"
Your chest felt a little tight at the thought, making it hard to speak.
"Little hard to imagine you as my manager. Don't know if you could pull off the apron." You purposefully put some space between you, going back to get more books as the air turned hot and got unreasonably thicker.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
When you returned, it was only about an inch away from Dabi, and he turned his back to the shelves, leaning against them casually.
“If I pulled you aside and said ‘you handled that well, atta girl,” you wouldn’t like it?” He tilted his head towards you, his eyes glinting as they met yours. “Or maybe you’d prefer ‘good girl’ instead.”
You dropped the book you were holding and Dabi smirked as you frantically went to pick it up.
You couldn’t speak for a few moments—the man had stolen the ability. With your heart ready to burst from your chest and a growing desire between your legs that ached for something to satiate it, you were fighting a losing battle. And Dabi knew it. The wicked smirk he gave you was like he could practically read your mind.
So you tried to hold your ground.
“I’d say it’d be condescending.” But you weren’t a liar. “From my other managers. I think from you, I could make an exception.”
"So then you admit it." He reached up and turned you to look at him, his fingers lightly grazing your chin and then your jaw. "You like to be praised."
“Fine,” you muttered, breath stolen. “Maybe I do.”
“Loves praise, doesn’t lie, and hates breaking the rules.” Dabi scoffed and pushed himself up from the bookcase. He leaned close and his fingers skimmed down your neck. “What a good girl.”
He was halfway down the aisle when you finally took a breath. It was shaky and you felt the twisting need rip all the way through your body as you watched him leave.
“You work tomorrow?” He spun, eyes dragging over your frame.
“Twelve to eight.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
You’d never looked forward to a shift more.
Even if the current one took an eternity to end. It was annoying trying to work when all you kept doing was replaying Dabi’s words. You could get drunk off of him calling you good girl. It sounded really good coming from him. From anyone else, you’d cringe or even snap back. But his stuck with you into your dreams where he whispered it over and over. Nothing was even happening—it was just him telling you how good of a girl you were for him.
Then he was there the next day at one, buying another coffee, finding you at your cart. His eyes looked bluer, and he'd changed his piercings out—still silver like his rings, but sword and skull earrings hung from either ear and he'd painted his nails black.
He slid up behind you, stealing the book that was right over your shoulder. It was a romance novel and you almost laughed had he not spoken first.
“Afternoon, good girl. Sleep well?”
He had to be a mind reader.
“Fine. And you, fine and loyal customer?”
“Slept great.” He sat the book back and leaned against the shelves again. “Do you work tomorrow?”
“Should I give you my schedule? I can let the store know I have an official stalker.” You tried your best teasing smile, but you were still recovering from his good girl greeting.
“Schedule would work, sure.” He met your gaze. “Wanted to see if you were free tomorrow evening.”
You sat the books down and bit your lip, desperately trying to control your heart. “And why would you want to know that?”
"New in town. Was hoping you could show me the best place to visit."
“There are a few places I could show you.” You sucked in your cheeks and went back to shelving. “Don’t know if any of them are your style, but I know some places.”
“Dinner then. Meet me here at six.”
“Here?” You looked around the store. “You want to meet here?”
“Well, I want to drive you.” He pushed up and walked around you. “But I don’t want you to think I’m actually stalking you.”
“Fine, dinner.” You were trying to hold back your smile. Dinner didn’t mean it was a date. “Wear something nice. Just in case.”
“Deal.” He raised his cup as he backed out of the aisle. “See you tomorrow night.”
"Yeah, see ya."
Excitement roared through you, and you almost dropped the next set of books you picked up. You had a potential date with Dabi. A date with Dabi! You weren't usually someone who squealed from happiness—at least not in public—but it was a fight not to do it a few times at work. Every time the thought came back to you, you wanted to jump for joy.
Actually getting to spend time with him outside of work was insanely exciting. Yeah, there was the worry you wouldn't get along or there wouldn't be any chemistry. But that was low on your list of concerns, considering how just the one conversation stuck with you until you went home and went to bed.
There was also the worry that Dabi only wanted one thing from you—but he wouldn't have come back day after day just for sex. Or he was just extremely dedicated. Now that thought stayed with you, but not in the ways you'd been expecting. You'd been on dates where your partner expected sex. But those were always bad dates. They lasted one or two times, they were awkward, and way too heavy-handed.
You weren’t against sex or a one-night stand, but all the prospects had been so…uninspiring. Boring.
There was no spark.
And you needed a spark. A spark ensured a sort of insurance for your insecurities. But Dabi didn’t need to know about those, not until you got to the money shot. If at all. You could try and fake it—probably.
If there was a spark—and you were fairly certain there was going to be—you had nothing to worry about. Even if that’s all Dabi wanted. You weren’t that old-fashioned.
You couldn’t find anything to wear. You ransacked your closet trying to find something that was just right, but there was nothing. It was already three, and you'd gone through so many different outfits you were going to drive yourself insane. If you weren't already there.
So you bit the bullet and drove to the closest clothing store—a small boutique about five miles away that had an assortment of different clothes. They were in the middle of restocking when you got there, making their sizes extremely varied from item to item, and the few things you did find and like weren’t in your size.
Not the black romper or the purple blouse or the flowy red skirt.
But then there was a little white sundress. The sales clerk that you'd managed to bond with during the extent of your time there—it was just the two of you in there, after all—held it up. You came out of the dressing room with a frown, dissatisfied with the previous ill-fitting items when she held up the sundress.
"How about this?" She handed the spaghetti strap dress to you and you eyed it carefully. You'd intended on taking Dabi to a hole-in-the-wall Italian joint—white clothes didn't always go well with red sauce—but the dress was really cute. "My girlfriend swears by sundresses for date nights—they're easy to dress up or down. Guess I do too because she always rocks them."
"Let me try it." You smiled, slipping back behind the curtain.
It was a little tight in places but it was the places you could get away with that. Specifically in the chest, and since it was slightly low cut, it accentuated your cleavage. It hugged your figure a bit along your torso and flowed out around your hips. And when you spun, the skirt flared beautifully.
It was a bit see-through, though. You were wearing pale pink underwear and it was very clear what color they were. So you led with that when you stepped out, the sales clerk beaming when she saw you.
“That’s it, that’s the one.” She held up her hands. “Sorry, I’m not trying to make a sale—that dress just looks damn good on you.”
"Yeah but…" You angled your hip forward and the sales clerk pursed their lips.
“Got any white underwear at home? You should be fine with that.”
“I don’t.” You owned about every color of underwear under the sun except white.
“One sec, hold on.” She ran into the back for a minute, and when she returned, she was holding a white bra and underwear set that made your cheeks burn. “Now, it’s a little spicy, but…if you look good underneath, your confidence will, too."
“Alright, let me try it on.”
You ended up getting the set. The bra had a bit of a push-up effect, accentuating your chest even more in the dress. And the underwear was a sheer and thin lace, so when the fabric fell over you, even under direct lighting, there weren't lines or any color sneaking through. If you pulled the skirt back, though, the little bow on the front was visible. But odds were that wasn't going to happen, so you paid it no mind.
You slid on some black strappy sandals and grabbed a red purse to carry your stuff. A glance in the mirror showed that the sales clerk hadn’t just been hyping you up for a sale. You looked damn good.
You looked damn good and you had a night planned to prove it to Dabi.
Excited and practically bubbling over with excitement and nerves, you drove over to the bookstore, slipping out of your car just a few minutes before six.
Dabi was already there, waiting outside the front, and you swallowed your nerves as you approached him. He wore his black dress-shirt way too well. Dressed in all black, he looked like the vampire version of him that you'd thought of the first time you saw him. The skull-themed rings and jewelry did nothing but accentuate that image in your mind.
And you wore the white dress and all.
“Wow.” He pushed up from the wall, hands sliding out of his pockets. “I wondered what you looked like outta that apron, but my imagination did not do you justice. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Your body flushed. “You look good too.”
“So tell me,” he murmured as he sauntered up to you. “Where am I taking you tonight?”
"Let's go, and I'll show you."
Despite Dabi being a man of few words, the small talk was fairly easy as you walked to his small car. A small black four-door with a navy and gray interior. You sat comfortably in the passenger seat, even if the small space put you close to Dabi, your eyes occasionally dropping to where his hand rested on the shifter. His thumb ran over the leather knob and you were scaring yourself with what that did to you.
“Left here,” you blurted after staring a little too long at it. “And you can park in the small parking lot on the right.”
Luckily, Dabi liked Italian. So you’d picked well. He got your door for you, which surprised you, and his hand went to your back as you walked towards the entrance. He whispered after you as he opened the front door and you smiled at the hostess. It may have been small, but you’d called ahead and set a reservation just to be safe. Dabi grinned behind you, hand returning to your back, acting as the only physical contact he’d given you so far.
And you wanted more.
It was sort of awkward when you got seated. You were at a two-person table in the corner, setting it up to very clearly look and feel like a date when you hadn't discussed the nature of the outing. But Dabi seemed unbothered, looking over the menu silently and ordering easily when the waiter took your drink order.
The conversation wasn’t bad, but you were overly aware of how hard you were trying to not come off as an excited interrogator. You wanted to know more about him, but you didn’t want him to feel like you were asking for his life story. But Dabi answered the questions with a sly smile each time.
He was in town for college. It was cheaper to stay with a friend locally and drive to the campus than paying for all the on-campus amenities. He tutored students in chemistry on the weekends, and worked part-time on campus some days. He lived on the other side of town, and he'd moved in two days before you met at the bookstore, his friends showing him around.
“I was told that was the only spot worthwhile on this side of town.” He sipped his drink. “Glad I listened to them.”
His eyes were darker under the romantic lighting of the restaurant. And they were doing things to you that you couldn’t explain.
"So, is this where you take all your dates?" He cocked a brow when another worker walked by and said hello to you—marking the fourth time someone there had greeted you by name.
“No, no. It’s just close to my house and I like the food.” You held up your hands, the words stammering out. It was hard to ignore Dabi—whether purposefully or accidentally—referring to himself as your date. “I swear, I just eat too much takeout.”
Dabi grinned and sat back as his plate of noodles was set in front of him. You mimicked him as your own was sat down.
“Besides, I don’t really date anymore.” You nodded as the waiter added some fresh Parmesan to your dish. “Kinda hard to in a small town like this. I tried it, it didn’t work out, so I stopped.”
“Oh, so I’m a special case.” Dabi’s grin widened.
“You…” You bit your lip and peered up at him. “You are a special case. I actually like spending time with you.”
Dabi’s eyebrows raised and you sat up a bit straighter.
"Wait, that came off more pretentious than I intended." You sat your fork down. "That's not what I meant. No, the previous guys I went out with just weren't…compatible. There wasn't that spark or attraction and then when there was, it was minuscule and they tried way too hard to act on it and so they kinda shot themselves in the foot."
“How’d they manage that?” Dabi sat back and tipped his chin up.
“What?” You blinked at him, fork half raised to your mouth.
“You said they shot themselves in the foot.” He took another sip of his drink. “I’m curious how. I’d hate to repeat their mistakes.”
Your mouth closed around your fork, and you chewed slowly, buying yourself some time. That wasn't talk you typically did in a small restaurant where there were others around you. Granted, not all the tables around you were occupied, but it still felt weird discussing it in such a public place.
You swallowed the bite and wiped the corners of your mouth with your napkin.
“They were…overzealous about…” You opened and closed your mouth. You weren’t against telling Dabi, but from past experiences, the thought of it made anxiety twist in your gut. “Behind closed doors stuff.”
Dabi looked utterly amused by your wording. “So they expected sex.”
“Yes. No.” You could cook on your cheeks they felt so hot. “I don’t mind that, it was that they turned into this white knight, overconfident version of themselves when they found out that I’m…”
You couldn’t exactly blurt it out as your waiter walked by or the hostess sat a family nearby. But you didn’t have to. The recognition on Dabi’s features set in and nerves settled in you. His smile never faded and neither did his amusement. There was a hint of surprise, but that was all he gave you as he took his next bite.
“So you really are a goody-two-shoes.” He grinned when you choked on your drink. “Nothing wrong with having standards.”
“Hey.” You sat your fork down. “It’s not like I’m protecting it like some fragile flower. I just want it to be with someone where I’m not trying to pretend there’s an attraction.”
“Well, attraction will make it easier.” Dabi gave you a knowing smirk and you crossed your legs. “As I’m sure you’ve discovered with yourself.”
When you can’t muster up a response, Dabi sat up and that’s when the surprise really took over.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never—”
“Sometimes.” You had your eyes fixed on your plate and moved what little remained of your food around. “Just not…often.”
The waiter came back and when they asked for dessert, you both declined. Your stomach was in knots so you weren’t sure you could handle more food. Dabi, you assumed, probably had his focus shifted on something else entirely.
"I'm not…experienced…in that department," you said softly when your waiter left to get the check. You hated how it made you feel, and this was where every guy had overshot. Determined to teach you everything or tell you to sit back and relax, they'd rock your world for you. "Kind of hard to be when everyone here is nosy. Can't buy anything without someone else knowing, and can't go on any dates without guys getting way too cocky about…it.”
Dabi nodded, staying silent as the waiter came back. You tried to cover the check, but Dabi stopped you, throwing a fifty down. He didn't say anything until the waiter took it and left.
“You’re insecure about it.”
That hit you right in the chest and you bit back your response until Dabi got his change, a tip was left, and you rose from your seats. You walked a little stiffly from your table until Dabi’s hand found your back again. It stayed like that until you left, walking towards his car in the empty parking lot.
"I'm embarrassed." You settled into his passenger seat, and he started the car. The cool air from the vents felt nice against your skin. "Not the being a virgin part, but what's come with that."
“The right partner won’t care about that.”
“I know. Hence the need for a spark.”
Dabi put his car into reverse, and you watched his hand on the shifter. Again.
“Like there is between us?” He glanced over and you met his gaze with a panic.
“What?”
"Earlier, you said 'the previous guys' never had the spark." His smirk was evil. “I read between the lines.”
It was dangerous territory to navigate. You weren't sure what Dabi was implying. Because if the feeling was one-sided, you weren't sure if you'd survive the embarrassment. You barely were about discussing your lack of a sex life. If Dabi felt nothing towards you after the dinner and was getting you to spill all your secrets like this, you'd crawl into a hole and never come out.
You also didn’t want to imply you were only going out with him to finally get laid.
"You…there's…" Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you studied his profile. "You're one of the few customers I don't hate seeing regularly."
“Ouch, just a customer?” Dabi reached over and fixed one of your straps as you shifted in the seat. “And here I thought I’d at least been upgraded to a date.”
His fingers against your shoulder were almost too much. It was such an innocent touch but it went straight between your legs and you pressed your knees together. It was supposed to be subtle but the way Dabi's eyes shot down to your lap told you he was extremely aware of it.
Unable to hold his gaze when he glanced back from the road to you, you looked out the window. You recognized the ride back to the bookstore, and a portion of you felt disappointed—he was ending the date. You’d had a few other ideas in mind, but it seemed dinner was enough.
And then his hand fell to your thigh, just below your hem, hand burning hot against your skin.
Your legs parted subconsciously and Dabi absolutely fucking grinned.
His thumb ran light lines along your inner thigh, and his hand shifted up just barely and caused your dress to bunch a bit. You couldn't take your eyes off it. He was so close yet still frustratingly far from where you were getting wetter by the second.
“You are,” you said when you realized you hadn’t responded. “Upgraded to a date.”
“One with a spark?”
Your exhale was shaky.
“Yeah, one with a spark.”
Dabi parked a few spaces away from your car—it was near the back of the lot where employees typically parked. His hand moved to put his car in park, and you immediately missed the contact.
"So, if I asked about seeing you again this weekend, you'd be interested?"
“I work until three Saturday and close Sunday, but yeah. I’m interested.”
“After work Saturday, then. I’ll pick you up.”
“You going to take me out in my work clothes? I don’t know if jeans and a polo are date appropriate.” You chuckled softly. “It was a struggle finding an outfit for tonight. I had to buy a whole damn set just to wear under this dress.”
Dabi’s breath hitched and his eyes dropped from your chest to your lap.
“Did you?”
“The dress is very see-through,” you muttered. He was practically undressing you with his eyes and you flexed your thighs. His hand wasn’t there to stop you and Dabi’s eyes narrowed.
He took a deep breath. “Saturday. Meet me at the old theater in town at four. I won’t make you sit through a movie in your uniform.”
It wasn’t a dismissal, but the topic change was obvious enough to tell you what Dabi was thinking about. It was no secret to yourself that part of the reason you agreed to buy the set was because you hadn’t dismissed the thought of Dabi seeing it.
And you really wanted Dabi to see it.
“Wanna see it?”
Your breathing was quick and Dabi’s hands tensed on his steering wheel. When he said nothing, you moved your hands to the bottom of your dress and started to lift it. The setting sun was coming through his windshield directly over you, and it was hard to ignore how that light basically acted as a spotlight right on your lap. Meaning whatever the lace pretended to cover in the shadows wouldn’t be.
But Dabi grabbed your wrist just before you could flash him.
“I do, but not here.” He peered up as a group of people walked by, bags of books hanging from their hands. “I want to be the only one to see it.”
“Oh.” You hadn’t even noticed the people and you looked away. The thought of them almost seeing made the embarrassment double and you let go of your skirt.
“Wear it Saturday.” His other hand came up and cupped your jaw. “This dress, too. Can you do that for me?”
“You want me to wear this again?” Your eyes dropped to his mouth and Dabi smirked.
There was a pause before he leaned forward and closed the gap, his mouth pressing against yours. His smirk remained when you gasped against his lips, and his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You'd made out with someone before, but it'd always been so desperate on their behalf. This wasn't that. This was slow and deliberate. Like he knew each second his mouth was on yours, how his tongue touched you, how his hand slid down over your jaw and to your neck, made you want to squirm.
No, you were squirming. Moaning a bit, too.
You crossed your legs to try and satiate the growing pressure and it took all of a second for Dabi’s hand to fall to your knee.
“Open them,” he practically commanded against your mouth. When you didn’t immediately comply, he repeated himself. “Open your legs, (Y/N).”
You did, and Dabi swerved at the same time, mouth trailing down your neck. His teeth grazed your jugular as his hand slid up your thigh. But he didn’t touch you—he stopped short. You had to bite back the whine you almost let out, on the verge of begging for him to touch you.
“How inexperienced are you?” He pulled the strap of your dress to the side and kissed along where it’d been.
“I…” You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say. It also wasn’t easy to say when he had you wound so tight that you thought you were going to burst if he didn’t touch you. “I’ve done some stuff.”
"I need specifics." He lifted his head and kissed beneath your ear. "Like if I were to sneak my fingers into that pretty cunt of yours right now, would I be the first?"
You shivered—visibly shivered—and Dabi laughed against your neck.
“Dirty talk and praise kink.” His hand shifted on your leg ever so slightly. “Dirty girl.”
“Hey, I—”
“Answer my question, (Y/N).” He dug his teeth against your shoulder and kissed the indentations he left. “How inexperienced?”
You bit your lip and closed your eyes, enjoying how his hair tickled your neck.
“You’d be the first.” You swallowed hard. “I’ve only done over the clothes stuff.”
Dabi cursed against your neck and his hand lifted from your leg and slammed against the dashboard.
“And do you want to do that with me?” He pulled back, his eyes meeting yours. His pupils were blown and he licked his lips as he waited.
“Yes.” You glanced down at your lap for a second, then back up. “I want to do more than that with you.”
"I can work with that." He leaned in and gave you another kiss before he forced himself back and slid out of the driver's seat. He got your door and helped you out, pressing you against it as soon as he had it shut. His mouth stole another long, heated kiss. "Wear this again Saturday."
“I will.”
“Good girl,” he whispered against your lips. “Four o’clock, old theater. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.” You staggered away from his car, your knees weak.
“Oh.” He grabbed your wrist and hauled you back, an arm wrapping around your waist as he held you against him. “And don’t go touching yourself before then. I want to be the one to make you cum.”
"Okay," you breathed, eyes a bit wide, and Dabi grinned.
“Atta girl.”
He watched you get into your car, not leaving until you did. It took you a second to drive because you were wound so tight. Replaying the scene only made it worse. But you replayed it all the way home—it was hard not to.
He'd been so close to touching you and the way he fucking devoured you with that kiss was cruel. You would've let him fuck you in the back of his car if he wanted. That was dangerous—you were getting drunk on his actions and he hadn't even done anything besides kiss you and talk a little dirty.
You took a long, freezing shower when you got home. Stayed in there until you were shivering and covered in goosebumps. But it barely helped. You were still hard thinking about him when you got into bed. You dreamed of him too. Of his hand sneaking up where you wanted it. Teasing your clit through your underwear, whispering about how badly you wanted his fingers in you.
You woke up soaked. So soaked that you had to take another shower. And for the first time in a while, you actually wanted to take some time and alleviate the pressure between your legs. But the desire to hear Dabi call you his good girl again was bigger. Even if that only made it harder to keep your hands away from your cunt.
You went to work horny and wired. It was fucking awful.
Especially when Dabi came in halfway through to get a coffee and found you in the romance section again.
“Hi,” he purred behind you.
“Hi,” you muttered back. He looked really good in his v-neck, exposing a sliver of his chest.
“We still on for tomorrow?”
“Mhm.” You were trying to hide your anticipation for whatever he had planned. A movie, that part was obvious. But he wanted you to wear the dress and underwear set again. That meant there had to be more, right?
“And have you been a good girl?”
Your eyes locked and you held your breath as a customer walked behind you, looking at the books on the shelves just a few cases down. He cocked a brow, still expecting an answer.
“Yes, sir,” you answered in your most polite customer service voice.
"Good." He stepped behind you, hand coming to gently squeeze your waist. In a lower voice, barely audible to you, he added, "keep that up, and I'll reward you for it tomorrow."
He winked before leaving, a silent see you tomorrow. You barely heard the customer beside you when they asked for assistance.
You were distracted for the rest of the shift, during your attempt at chores after work, even through your cold shower, and the entirety of the next day. You tried to help the customers as much as possible—that always made the shifts go by faster—but you kept going back to thinking about Dabi. It was increasingly hard not to.
Especially as three o'clock got closer and closer until you could finally clock out. You rushed home, desperate to get ready and not look like you'd spent the day at work. You rinsed off under cold water to give yourself a fighting chance before slipping back into your now clean clothes from your first date.
Dabi was once again waiting outside when you rolled up to the old theater. It was showing three different movies. An action, a horror, and a romance. About as cliche as the theater could get, and Dabi held up two tickets as you approached. They were for the horror movie that started in about thirty minutes.
"Hey there, pretty lady," he said, his hand skillfully sneaking into yourself as you walked into the theater.
"Hi." You liked the feeling of his rings as he held your hand, and Dabi laughed when he caught you staring.
"Oh, come on, I know you're not that inexperienced. You've had someone hold your hand before." He smirked before handing the tickets off to the same employee that'd been working there the past twenty years, and she didn't even need to glance up to tell you where your theater was.
"I have. I just wasn't expecting it, that's all."
"C'mon. Let's get snacks."
Popcorn, a shared drink, and a handful of napkins. You held the drink and led Dabi towards your theater. But as soon as you entered, he side-stepped and pulled you into a corner. There were maybe two or three other people in the theater, and they were near the center. It wasn't like the theater was big, but you were practically sectioned off in the corner, away from the few whispering people.
“Bear with me.” You laughed nervously. “I don’t do the best with horror. I don’t get like super scared or anything, but the jump scares always get me.”
Dabi grinned, his thumb running over the back of your hand. "Don't worry. You probably won't be that focused on the movie anyway."
“What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” He brought your hand up to his mouth and gave it a gentle kiss. “You do as I asked?”
You blinked at him for a moment before it hit you, and you glanced away. "Yeah."
“You didn’t touch yourself at all?”
"Dabi." You motioned towards the people sitting near the center, and Dabi just continued to grin.
"They can't hear." He leaned a little closer as the lights started to dim, and a few commercials flickered onto the projector screen.
“No. I didn’t,” you said once the sound started to play from the speakers. “I had to take a few cold showers to help, too.”
“Poor girl,” he murmured as his hand slid from yours and went to your knee. “I’ll make up for that, don’t worry.”
“You will?” You studied his unreadable expression and he reached over, turning you to face the screen as another commercial started. “How so?”
“I’m not fucking you tonight.” He kissed your jaw, then your neck. “We’re taking this slow.”
“So, there’s a this?” You were trying not to gasp as Dabi dragged his teeth over your ear.
“Wouldn’t have invited you out again if there wasn’t.” Dabi’s hand slid up your leg.
“So then…how?” Your breath hitched as the skirt of your dress bunched around Dabi’s wrist. “How are you going to make it up to me?”
“We’re going to do some over the clothes stuff.” His hand shifted and he cupped your cunt, making sure to grab as much of your dress as possible to act as an infuriating barrier between his hand and you. “After the movie.”
He gave you one squeeze before moving his hand, sitting back as the previews started and his other hand rested lazily on your knee. He was grinning as you verbally fought to catch your breath. When you tried to close your legs to get some pressure relief, Dabi's grip tightened and he kept your legs open.
And that was the position you stayed in during the movie. He was right. You didn’t pay attention to the previews and you didn’t pay attention to the movie. It was too difficult to when Dabi’s hand occasionally slid up your leg, his fingers skimming the sensitive skin. Or when he started playing with the hem of your dress.
He’d get close to your cunt, making sure your dress touched it but not his fingers. And that was all he gave you. Little grazes of your dress that drove you wild. Nobody else had ever done this to you—nobody had ever made you react this way to them. And he knew it too, he was extremely aware of every little reaction you gave him.
He had you wound so tight by the end of the movie, you couldn’t move. But he wasn’t waiting for you to tell him, he was standing and giving you a look that said I know you’re wet, but I’m going to pretend like I sat there the whole time not almost touching you.
You were walking towards the back of the building, enjoying the fresh air, when you remembered you were at the theater.
“Wait, Dabi, you said after the movie. But where are we—”
Dabi pressed you against the wall of the theater, the old brick making the fabric of your dress snag. His mouth pressed against yours as he snuck a leg between yours, pushing just enough of his weight against your cunt.
“Right here.”
“But…” He kissed you again, a little harder before he was leaving kisses on your neck again. “People might see.”
"You weren't worried about that in my car when you were going to flash me." His hands fell to your hips, and he guided you along his thigh. "Getting so shy now?"
The sudden friction against your cunt had you throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in the crook of it. Dabi chuckled, watching you move your hips on your own, chasing what friction the act gave you. You attempted to remain quiet and even semi-polite, not wanting to draw attention to the two of you even if you'd found yourself at the back of the building, away from the typical crowds. But Dabi wasn't having it.
“Look at you,” he whispered. “So needy for contact. Has anyone ever touched your cunt before?”
You whined in response, but that wasn't enough of an answer for Dabi.
“Teased that clit until you begged them to finally actually touch you?" He moved his leg, lifting one of yours with his hand under your knee and pressing you back against the wall. Only a small fraction of your dress covered your cunt and you closed your eyes as Dabi pulled back and glanced down. He used one finger to lift your dress and he sucked in a slow breath at the sight. "You weren't kidding. It's real sheer.”
You kept your eyes shut, trying to balance on one leg as Dabi kept you spread. You were trying to hear for any potential people coming, but your focus was pulled in too many directions.
“Hold it up.” He guided your hand down and put your dress into your fist. “Keep it like that unless I say otherwise, understood?”
The warmth and desire that spread over you were hard to control. Dabi had you with your dress up in public—nobody else would ever be able to manage that.
“Mhm.” You were shaking from more than anticipation.
"That's my girl," he murmured, and he dragged his thumb over your cunt. "So fuckin' wet and so easily.”
His thumb ran a single line over your cunt until he decided to really have some fun. He found your clit, pressing his thumb against it and running slow, deliberate circles. It fucking shot fireworks off in you and he was barely touching you.
“Show me the bra.”
"What?" Your eyes opened, just barely. It was a struggle when Dabi's thumb kept working your clit.
“Pull the top of your dress down and show me the bra.”
“But we’re—”
"(Y/N)," he whispered, pushing your leg a little higher and working his thumb a little faster. "I got you spread eagle, gushing into my hand. Someone walks by, they're gonna see me teasing this pretty cunt of yours. Don't think it'll matter if the top of your dress is up or down."
You bit your lip, hesitating as you brought your free hand up to pull the top down. The second you did, Dabi smirked and leaned forward, kissing the newly exposed parts of your chest. It was only a few inches between what the dress covered and what the bra didn’t, but Dabi gobbled it up.
“Get another question for you.” Dabi bit down on one of the cups and pulled back slightly. If he looked down, he’d see in, but he kept his eyes firmly on yours.
“W-What’s that?”
“Over the clothes stuff means nobody’s ever tasted that sweet cunt, have they?”
“I…” Your head fell back against the wall. “No, they haven’t.”
"What a shame." He switched his thumb for his fingers, getting a more precise touch and you used your free arm to hug him closer. "Never had anyone hold your hips down and lick that clit until you cry."
You were getting close and you could hear a group of people closer than the last few that'd walked by the building. Which meant they were close to you, which meant they could walk by you. They could see you—they would see you. But you were getting so close.
“Dabi.” It was a warning for both. “I’m…and people are…”
"I'm not stopping until you cum." He dragged his tongue over your collarbone. "So you better cum quick or they're gonna see how needy you are for me. Couldn't even wait until we got to your bedroom to get off."
He changed the angle of your leg slightly and that was it—that put his fingers exactly where you needed them. The sounds of the people were getting closer. You figured you had about thirty seconds, but you only needed about ten. Struggling under Dabi's hold, you buried your face in his neck as your orgasm hit you hard enough to whine—making you forcibly silence yourself as much as you could.
You trembled against him as you tried to hold onto him, his fingers not stopping as your hips twitched up from the wall.
You'd never cum that hard before. You'd never cum from someone else before.
"Good girl, that's it, cumming so hard for me," he murmured in your ear.
“Dabi.” It was a plea this time and he moved his fingers, pulling your top up after setting your leg down.
He jerked you against him, face against his shoulder, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. He was letting out the first puff as the group of people walked past, hand gently running along your arm as you silently panicked in his hold.
When they passed, Dabi pulled you back, cigarette between his fingers as he puffed out another cloud of smoke.
“See?” Dabi’s hand slid into yours. “Didn’t get caught.”
"Came close," you muttered, panting and swaying on shaking legs, and Dabi just smirked.
“Yeah, and you came pretty hard cause of it.” He stopped as you got to the front of the theater. “Next time, it’ll be around my fingers.”
You already wanted that now. Even with wobbly legs, you wanted to drag him to his car and let him do whatever he wanted to you.
“Next time?” You were trying to play coy, but you sounded exactly how you felt: horny.
"Yeah." Dabi nodded. "Next time, I'm going to fucking ruin you."
You tripped over your own feet as you walked towards the parking lot. Dabi caught you and chuckled.
“Why not right now?” You spotted his car and pulled him towards it. “Ruin me, right now.”
“What,” he purred as he pushed you back against his back door. “Want me to fuck you right here in my car?”
“Maybe I do.”
“(Y/N).” He slid his hand between your legs and pressed your clit. “When I fuck you, I want to see every inch and hear every sound. And I want to be the only one who does.”
His fingers slid down and he found your entrance, pressing as far as your underwear would let him.
“And as much as I want to throw you in the back of my car and see how tight that cunt is around my fingers, I’m sticking to my word.” He kissed your cheek. “Next time, I promise.”
“Does that mean next time we’re going to…”
“Fuck?”
“Yeah.” You stared up at him with accidental doe eyes.
"No." He lifted his hand and dragged his thumb over your bottom lip. "But I am going to lick that cunt until you're begging me to fuck you."
"Okay." You glanced around as Dabi puffed his cigarette, blow the smoke away from you." Okay, next time. After work, tomorrow. Are you free?"
“Needy, aren’t we? And even after I made you cum.” He pinched your chin and kissed you. “Busy the next few days. How about Wednesday night? Nine o’ clock, your place. I’ll grab take out from the little Italian joint.”
"Wednesday?" You could hear the neediness in your voice, and Dabi laughed.
“What? Don’t think you’ll survive until then?” He reached into his car and grabbed a piece of paper, handing it to you to write down your address. “Poor girl.”
“Dabi." You struggled to write legibly, and pouted when you handed him the paper. He cupped your cheek almost tenderly.
“It’ll be worth the wait. I promise.” He kissed you again. “If you get needy, just pretend your hand is mine. But if you do, I wanna hear about it.”
“You do?” You breathed, leaning back for support against his car.
“Mhm.” He picked you up as soon as you got comfortable, his hand going for yours as he walked you towards your car. “Every little dirty detail.”
“Wednesday. Nine o’clock.” You bit your lip as Dabi got your car door, helping you in. “Don’t be late.”
“For you?” Dabi pinched your chin. “Never.”
The days passed way too slowly. Saturday night dragged on, Sunday, too. Dabi stopped by for a coffee and pastry on Monday, staying no longer than the time it took to whisper hanging in there? When you got all flustered, Dabi smirked and stole a quick kiss, lingering to push you back against the shelves before parting.
“See you Wednesday, (Y/N),” he cooed.
Then he was gone. And you had to wait another two days before you saw him again. That was even worse—so much worse. Your cold showers stopped working Monday night, but you weren't sure you'd survive telling Dabi about…taking care of yourself. So you didn't give in to the desire. No matter how much you needed it.
Although you regretted it Wednesday afternoon when you went into work wired. Your whole body tingled with anticipation for the evening. Dabi wanted to ruin you. You already knew what the evening was going to entail: his mouth between your legs. But what was going to lead up to that and what was going to happen after and what was it going to feel like?
About half a dozen customers asking for assistance managed to accidentally scare you since you were so lost in thought. The manager on duty even pulled you aside and asked if everything was alright. After apologizing and saying you just had a lot on your mind, they nodded and let you get back to work.
For once, you were grateful you worked so close to closing. No duties of the closing cashier but it got you close enough to nine that you weren’t losing your mind with time when you got home. You had just enough time to rinse off in the shower, change into a low-cut blouse and jeans, and clean up around the place before Dabi got there.
He was there exactly at nine. You nearly tripped over yourself trying to answer the door when he knocked. Frantically fixing your shirt, trying to tuck it back in, you opened the door. Dabi smiled, a paper bag in one hand, his other in his pocket.
“Hi, come in.” You jumped aside and held out your arm, showing off your little apartment to Dabi. “I hope parking was easy—it can be a bitch sometimes.”
“It was fine.” His hand went to your waist and he pulled you in for a kiss. He smelled a bit like smoke and the flashback to your time behind the theater was quick and clear. “How was work?”
“Fine. Long. Very long.” You brought him into the kitchen where you had a small table for dining. “You had classes today, right? How were those?”
“Boring. Would’ve preferred to have been elsewhere.” He sat the bag down and started unloading the food. “And long? Any particular reason for that?”
"I wonder." You gave him a knowing but somewhat shy glance, and Dabi chuckled. "What do I owe you for the food?"
Dabi snuck up behind you and spun you, pushing you back against your kitchen wall. His mouth pressed against yours and he was real quick to reach down and hook his fingers through your belt loops. He jerked you against him, and you could feel something strikingly hard in his pants.
“Owe me nothing.”
You clawed at his shirt, suddenly entirely uninterested in the food on the table.
“Let me show you my bedroom.” You tried to tug him in that direction, but he didn’t budge.
“After.” His hand snuck around and he squeezed your ass. “Gotta save dessert for after dinner, baby. Come on.”
You ate dinner with a bouncing leg and a wicked grin from Dabi as you talked about work and school. You weren’t so blinded by need that you didn’t pay attention, but Dabi was having a field day watching you squirm. He even purposefully slowed down when he got to the last few bites.
“You get a little taste and you get all needy, don’t you?” He finally said as he rose, putting his takeout dish in the trash. “Poor girl—last few days must’ve been torture.”
“They were.”
“Did you do anything about it?” He leaned over you, one had on the back of your chair as he shoved it back, coming down to be face to face.
“No. I didn’t.”
Dabi’s eyes widened. “You didn’t?”
“No.” You pressed your mouth into a fine line. “Not once.”
“Oh, you poor girl, you really are needy.” He kissed your cheek. “Let me see that bedroom.”
You jumped to your feet and dragged him in there. It was spotless—it was the one room you'd dedicated yourself to cleaning. And Dabi looked around with those same curious eyes he'd had when you first saw him. Taking in every small detail as he looked over the space.
When he finally had his focus back on you, your legs were against your bed, and Dabi shoved you onto your back. By the time you registered you were on your bed, Dabi was on top of you, kissing you so deeply you thought you were going to get drunk off of it.
You didn’t get to touch Dabi last time—this time he was letting you. Your hands skimmed over his arms, his chest, down to the waistband of his pants. He stopped you there, taking your wrists in his hands and pinning them against the bed.
“Tell me,” he muttered as he kicked your legs open and slotted a knee between them. “Am I still allowed to—”
“Ruin me?”
“I was going to use different words, but yeah.” His teeth captured your bottom lip and you whimpered. “Am I still allowed to ruin you?”
“Yes.” You nodded. “Yes. Please.”
Dabi sat back, moving your wrists to one of his hands and skimming the other down your chest, stomach, all the way to your jeans. He toyed with the button, making you squirm as he finally undid it. He moved the zipper even slower, sucking in a sharp breath when he saw your sheer pink underwear.
You’d gone back and gotten some more sets to wear.
"You want me here?" His fingers toyed with the bow on the front and you nodded. Dabi scoffed and grinned, moving back up and untucking the rest of your shirt. "We'll get there. I want to see those tits, first."
He slowly unbuttoned your shirt, watching you as your wrists twitched in his hold. He made sure his fingers skimmed over your stomach as he moved up, only stopping once your shirt was entirely open and displaying the equally sheer pink bra. It left nothing to the imagination, and Dabi's grin grew sinister.
“You wore this for me?” His hand slid over your breast, thumb swiping across your hard nipple. You gasped at the contact, and Dabi repeated it. “That’s not an answer, (Y/N).”
“Yes, I did. I bought it for you.” You closed your eyes—it was the first time anyone had seen you in something so sheer.
“You did?” He pinched your nipple before swiping his thumb back over it. “So sweet to me, aren’t you?”
"Mhm." It was more of a whimper, and Dabi kissed your jaw.
“Shame that it looks so good on you—gonna need it off to really have some fun.”
He gave you no time to respond before he yanked the cup down, freeing your breast. There was a momentary pause before his thumb swiped your nipple, and then you felt his breath against it. You pressed your head back as his mouth closed around it, tongue swirling it gently, and the feeling went directly between your legs. Where his mouth was going to do the same thing later. At least that's what you assumed.
He pushed down on your wrists as you squirmed, and without warning, he moved to the other side of your chest, freeing the other side and taking it into his mouth. He slid a knee back between your legs, giving you just a tease of friction as he devoured your chest. He left love bites all over your chest, grinning each time he made you whimper and whine as he teased your nipples.
“You gonna leave your wrists there if I let you go?”
“Do you want me to?” You only slightly opened your eyes, and as soon as you did, you caught sight of your chest. Covered in love bites, hard nipples, rising and falling as you huffed.
“Mhm. I do.” He ran his fingers along your waist and cocked his head to the side. “If you don’t think you can, gimme a scarf. I’ll keep them in place.”
“A scarf?” Your brows furrowed and Dabi dropped his head, kissing your stomach. “For…?”
Dabi jerked his head up, brows pinched as he studied your expression. There was a realization dawning on him and his expression was a mixture of seriousness and mischief.
“Where are your scarves, (Y/N)?" It was a demand—a burning behind his eyes made your heart skip a beat.
“Closet. Hanging.”
Dabi moved so fast, and you tried to compose yourself as he retrieved a scarf. When he got back, he sat beside you, wrapping your wrists practically expertly before yanking them farther back and tying them to your metal headboard.
“That’s what it’s for,” he said as he gave it a hard tug and it didn’t budge. Softly, he leaned down and spoke in your ear. “You don’t like it, you tell me, got it?”
“Mhm.” You tugged on it a few times and Dabi watched with an amused expression.
“Got a question for you.” He slid down the bed and slowly started to pull your pants down your legs, leaving your underwear on. “How many times have you made yourself cum in one sitting?”
“I…twice. Just twice.”
“Care if I break that record?” He moved to his knees and sat between your legs.
You tried your best to maintain composure, but it was getting really hard.
“You that confident?”
“(Y/N), I’m pretty sure I could blow on your clit and you’d cum.” He cupped your cunt and you realized just how wet you were. “I could give you half my effort and still have you cumming on my fingers.”
“Then prove it.”
Dabi snickered and tugged on the bow. “Oh, baby, you don’t know the challenge you’re starting.”
Dabi wasn't joking about ruining you. You were still in your underwear when he had you grinding your hips against his hand. He was just giving you his thumb against your clit, but he was taking his sweet damn time touching you. Last time had been about getting you off before someone caught you. Now it was dragging it out at an agonizingly slow speed.
“Oh, so needy. Poor cunt having nothing to fill it.” He cocked his head to the side. “You want my fingers, (Y/N)?”
“Yes,” you groaned. “Please, yes.”
You never thought you’d ever actually beg anyone to finger you—you never thought you’d find the person who’d make you.
“Beg for it.” He pushed down on your stomach, keeping your hips still. “So desperate to finally have someone fill that cunt. Beg for it.”
“Dabi, please. Please, I need you to. Fuck.”
“Need me to what? Say the words.”
“Fill me. Use your fingers. Please. I need you to.”
“Poor guys who never got this far. Never got hear how sweet you sound when you beg.” He shifted, pulling your underwear down your legs. “Never got to see those tits, and never got to see how sweet you look when you cum. And this? Open your eyes.”
When you looked down, you were naked. Dabi was pushing your legs open, and he waited until your eyes fell from him to your cunt before he moved his fingers. He cooed as he spread your folds, grinning as he very lazily leaned down and blew against your clit.
“So wet and needy. Keep watching.” He did a quick glance up before exposing your clit and pinching it, grinning as you squirmed and gasped. “So swollen. Sensitive.”
He swiped his fingers across it a few times, watching you twitch under the direct contact. And you could feel yourself practically gushing between your legs, and Dabi was clearly enjoying the realization that was donning on your features. You were naked, tied to your headboard, legs spread for him. For him. Drenched from him. Aching for him.
And then he pushed a finger in, and your eyes fluttered closed.
“Fucking tight, damn, (Y/N).”
You weren’t one to use your fingers like that whenever you wanted to alleviate your needs. It was always outside action. Whenever you tried inside action, you never got the same reaction. You couldn’t find the spot that made you see stars the same way your clit did.
But Dabi found it. And he fucking teased the hell out of it as soon as he did.
"Oh, right there?" He rubbed the little spongy spot, and you yanked on the restraints. "Got one finger in you, and you're already squeezing me like you're ready to cum. I still gotta fill you up, (Y/N). I ain't even getting started."
He worked you open like that for a while, going slow enough to make the pleasure almost painful. Watching with mischievous amusement as he finally got to the point where he could put in a second finger. And then he worked you harder, faster, almost mocking how you tightened around him so quickly.
His other hand went to your lower stomach, thumb swiping over your clit just as fast as his fingers worked your cunt. You weren't ready to cum yet—despite everything, despite how worked up you were, despite how badly you wanted to cum—you weren't ready yet. You were enjoying the feeling of Dabi's fingers stretching you, how they filled you. Once you came, he'd take them out, and you weren't ready for that. You wanted it to last a little longer.
But Dabi wasn’t having any of that.
“Wait, Dabi…”
"Hm? You like my fingers that much?" He spat down onto your clit, letting his thumb glide even easier over it than before. "You waited this long for someone to strip you naked and fuck you, and you want to wait?”
He worked his fingers a little deeper and faster, and you weren't trained enough to be able to hold on.
“No, I want to feel you cum around my fingers. Fucking gush. Squeeze my fingers like you want to squeeze my cock, baby. Yeah, just like that, so fucking needy.”
You came, the attempt at holding it back slipping right through your fingers. Your heels dug into the mattress as you raised somewhat off the bed, and Dabi laughed, continuing to pump his fingers. Your eyes closed harder and your moan choked itself out of you, the first wave of pleasure slamming into you unapologetically. And Dabi's fingers dragged it out, fucking you until you came back down, feet kicking beside him as he continued to hit that sensitive spot inside you.
“Look at that.” He pulled his fingers out and held them up, showing you how wet they were. “Good girl, doing just as I asked. Cumming nice and hard for me.”
He brought his fingers down as he lowered himself to his stomach. He glanced up at you from between your legs and blew on your clit.
“You got thirty more seconds, then this?” He blew again. “Is mine.”
It was closer to twenty-five seconds when he spread your folds and closed his mouth around your clit. So swollen and sensitive, your hips immediately lifted off the bed and he had to hold them down.
He went slow, giving you every bit of sensation of his tongue sliding over your clit, between your folds, even swiping over your entrance. He sucked and kissed and licked, holding your legs open and hips down.
And when your thighs started to shake, he sucked your clit into his mouth and hummed.
When he started licking it quickly, you could feel tears joining your impending second orgasm. He was getting you there so fast, so relentlessly, you almost couldn’t keep up.
There was no warning when you came the second time—not from him, nor from you—you just yanked on the restraints and cried out a half whimper, half moan. Dabi, once again, didn’t stop until you were squirming, unable to withstand the contact.
“All those people you work with,” he murmured as he ran his fingers over your clit. “They see you as this perfect little worker. Don’t break the rules. So innocent and sweet. They got no idea you got a guy like me tasting exactly how sweet you are.”
Your response was a whine, and Dabi laughed.
“You think they’d even believe it if they knew you were begging me to fuck you in my car? Or that you let me tie your pretty wrists up as I play with your cunt?” He slipped his fingers back into you, finding your sweet spot instantly, chasing your next orgasm without restraint. “That you flashed me that sweet cunt behind the theater and came even when someone could’ve seen?”
Dabi licked your clit a few times before returning his fingers there.
“Inexperienced, sure. But innocent?” Dabi scoffed as you squeezed his fingers again. “I think you’re far from it.”
You groaned as you came again, a sheen of sweat covering you as Dabi kept finger fucking you.
He was serious—he was going to fucking ruin you.
He made you cum two more times before he crawled up and untied your wrists, telling you to open your mouth and pressing his drenched fingers into it. You hummed around them, tasting yourself first there, then on his lips when he kissed you.
"Atta girl," he murmured first as you cleaned his fingers, again after he kissed you.
"You…" You nodded down at his lap, and Dabi smirked.
“I think I’ve ruined you enough for one night.” He undid the scarf from your wrists. “I ain’t fucking you tonight, (Y/N).”
"No, not that." You licked your lips, and Dabi froze. "Show me how. On you."
“You want to blow me?”
“Mhm.”
Dabi studied you for a second—a long second. Then he lifted his chin and nodded at the floor.
“Then get on your knees.”
You did as you were told, sliding off the bed onto shaky legs. Dabi motioned to his belt, and you took the not-so-subtle hint, undoing it. It jingled as you opened it, then went for his button and fly. Your hands trembled as you exposed the bulge in his navy boxers, and he sat back on his hands.
“Go on.”
You bit your lip and tentatively pulled his cock out. He was thick, hard, and—your mouth parted. It was pierced.
First cock you held, touched, seen in person, and it was pierced.
“Open your mouth, put it around the tip.” Dabi’s voice was cool and calm. Only a hint of the sternness he had with his commands before. You did as you were told, and he was hot in your mouth. “Now bob your head, take what you can, adding just a little bit of suction.”
You bobbed your head slowly, going as far down as you could, and Dabi lasted only a short while before he hissed.
“Just like that, that’s my girl. Fucking hell. Taking my cock so well. That’s it.” His hand went to the back of your head, guiding you a little faster. “I take it back. I don’t think they’d believe such a sweet girl would take my cock like this. So fucking hungry for it. Sucking it so damn well.”
Despite how many times Dabi made you cum, the praise went directly between your legs. Dabi’s thumb wiped away a spare tear, but he made you keep your mouth on him, holding you steady as you swallowed before bobbing your head again.
“You wanna keep being my good girl?”
“Mhm.”
"Then when I tell you to move, you fucking move and gimme those tits to cum on, understand?" When you didn't respond right away, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged. "Understand?”
“Mhm,” you hummed around his cock.
“Atta girl.” He groaned, his thighs flexing in his jeans. “Fucking perfect.”
He lasted a little while longer, moaning as you continued to blow him. It was a bit of a struggle to fight your gag reflex, but Dabi wasn't letting you pull off. His hand kept that firm grip on your hair as he helped move your head.
And then he was there, breathing heavy and uneven, thighs flexing under your hands. He yanked your head back for extra measure when he said the one word, move. And then his fist was around his cock, pumping it a few more times as you sat up, and he came. All over your chest. It dripped down over your stomach, and you studied how his face scrunched, the soft sounds he made as he came, and the faint blush that covered his cheeks.
“Hell, (Y/N).” His eyes went from your face to your chest. “Look at you, fucking filthy.”
His thumb wiped the corner of your mouth and looked at you, surprised, aroused, and proud. Like he wanted to throw you back on your bed and fuck you right then. But he didn't. He just looked at you, your chest, every naked inch, and seemed to memorize you. He swiped a thumb over a nipple before tucking his cock back into his boxers and stood.
He didn't spend the night. You both cleaned up—mostly him wiping you down with a rag—and he helped you back into bed after you changed. He stayed beside you for a bit, letting your head rest on his chest as he ran his fingers along your arm.
“If I didn’t have a class at eight tomorrow—and I trusted myself to have the strength to not want to fuck you in the morning—I’d stay.” He kissed the side of your head.
“What if I want you to stay and fuck me?”
“Not yet.” He reached down and spanked your cunt, making you jump at the contact. You were already sore. “Need to let you recover first, baby.”
“Friday.” You played with one of his necklaces—it had a little flame pendant. “What are you doing Friday?”
“Depends on why you ask.”
"There's a mini golf place thirty minutes north. They have a deal on Fridays, and I don't work. They also have really crappy pizza and burgers."
Dabi smirked—seemingly amused that you'd asked him to play mini gulf.
“I’ll pick you up at one.”
Dabi let you fall asleep before leaving. Well, sorta. You were awake enough to register his goodbye kiss, and then you were out, missing his warmth. You ended up dreaming that Dabi had spent the night.
You woke up sore. Sorer than you expected. All you thought of was Dabi each time you winced at the slight pain. It wasn't anything unbearable—but it was noticeable.
You stared down at yourself in the shower, chest covered in hickies of varying sizes. So much had happened last night. Dinner, naked, wrists bound, legs open. His fingers, mouth, both. Then he finally—finally—let you touch him. And you took him in your mouth. That was the first time you’d done that. That was a night of firsts.
You spent the shift thinking about that. Thinking about the soreness, what caused it. You joked with your coworker, something about going to the gym for the first time in a while as a way to cover for your constant wincing. They bought it, but you weren't exactly paying enough attention to care.
Dabi was right—you needed time to recover.
A fair amount of time, too. You were still semi-sore when Friday rolled around.
It was casual, more than you were expecting. Dabi wore the same dark clothing, and you opted for shorts and a tank top. The warm breeze felt nice as he drove with the windows down, and it was even better on the golf course. Dabi got a blue ball, and you got a red, and he looked comical holding the small putt. He laughed sarcastically, still sliding his hand into yours as you walked between holes, even when he threatened to withhold it for the teasing.
It was surprisingly sweet. He'd shown his sweet side before, but this was something different. It was all hand-holding and little fun whispers. And only the occasional innuendo at your soreness.
You split a pizza when you finished the course, lingering back to let your stomachs settle before leaving. Dabi drove back with his hand on your thigh the whole time.
"Thanks for going. I had fun." You ran your fingers over the back of his hand, studying his silver rings. "I hope you did."
“I did. Little out of my usual activities, but I had fun.”
"Can I ask a question?" You traced the rings. "Well, two, actually."
“Shoot.”
“What are your usual activities?" You bit your lip, trying to figure out how to phrase the next part. "I know we haven't labeled what we're doing—and this isn't me asking to label it—but if we are going to hang out like this, I want to do things you like, too."
"I don't know if my scene is the same as yours." Dabi cocked a brow and glanced down at his lap. "I wasn't exaggerating with what I said Wednesday night. People look at you, and they see little miss innocence. They'd eat you alive where I hang out."
“Try me.”
“What’s your second question?”
“Again, not me prying for any reason other than curiosity. But do you have a cellphone?”
"I was wondering how long it'd take you to ask that. No, I don't." He grinned. "I prefer a more 'off the grid' kind of life."
"I kind of assumed." You pointed down at his wallet chain. "No rewards card, cash only. You seem exactly like the kinda guy who'd send a dirty text just to fuck with me, so when that didn't present itself as a possibility, I just assumed."
"You caught me red-handed." He held up his hands. "It's part of the reason I stop by and double-check plans with you at work. Plus, it's a good excuse to see you."
"Fair enough. I'll take the compliment. But I'm not letting it go, by the way." You leaned towards him and poked his arm. "I want to do something from your scene. I’ll even dress the part, too.”
“Oh, now you’ve got my attention. How exactly would you dress for it?”
You tugged on his shirt. “Lots of black.”
Dabi chuckled and shook his head, staring up at your apartment building for a bit. The silence that fell between you was comfortable—Dabi was thinking. For a while.
Finally, he spoke.
“You work Thursday night?”
"Off at eight, but I don't work Friday. Why?"
“Alright. I’m picking you up at eight-thirty. I’ll take you to one of the places I hang out at.” He leaned forward and gave you a teasing kiss. “You better wear that outfit—I want to see what you come up with for it.”
“I can do that.” You smirked. “I’ll see you Thursday night.”
You had a plan. You were going to absolutely nail the outfit on all fronts. The accessories, the makeup, the underwear. Going as hard as your budget could afford. And you fucking did—with the help of the sales clerk from the boutique.
“I need your most punk outfit.”
She looked at the pale pink sundress you were wearing and cocked a brow. “I’m insanely curious. Okay.”
While the boutique usually had a diverse selection, most of their pieces seemed to be of the pastel and bright colors variety. Although, near the back, they had some items that were more in the "Dabi would like this" demographic. It was still slim pickings, though—but you made it work.
It wasn’t perfect—and you were sure Dabi would probably get a chuckle out of it—but it worked well enough.
You just needed shoes, accessories, and makeup. But that was easily covered between the drugstore, another boutique about twenty minutes away, and a shoe store nearby.
You had the entire outfit settled and ready by Wednesday when Dabi stopped by to double-check that you were still interested in hanging out the next night.
“Oh yeah. I’m more than ready.” You scanned his book. “I got the outfit all ready.”
"Can't wait to see it." He handed you the cash, and you grinned. "I'm curious to see what you think my style is. Especially on yourself."
“It’s good, I promise. I think you’ll like it. Mostly.”
"Mostly?" He cocked a brow and gave you a smirk that went directly between your legs. "I really look forward to seeing it now."
His hand lingered on yours as he took the change.
It was that little touch that got you through that shift and the next. Luckily, all the shopping to make the outfit made the days pass reasonably fast. And after an annoyingly long shift with frustrating customers—and the on-duty manager being especially micromanaging—you were rushing back to your apartment to change.
Remnants of the anger remained, but the excitement took over most of it. You nearly tripped over yourself trying to change before Dabi got there.
A very specific underwear set, a cropped red t-shirt, high-waisted fishnets that sat higher than your high-waisted black shorts. A thick black belt that cinched your waist and some chunky red and black sneakers on your feet were the best you could find. A bit of silver jewelry that reminded you of Dabi's, a little bit of dark eye makeup, and a black purse. It wasn't perfect.
But Dabi’s reaction was.
He was speechless. His eyes were wide as his mouth tipped into an insanely amused grin, and he whistled.
“This is going to take some getting used to.” Dabi stepped back as you locked your door. “Looking good.”
“So you like it?” You beamed, grabbing Dabi’s hand and hugging his arm. “I did a good job?”
"It's a fun outfit, and you look good." He kissed your cheek. "But you may want to tone down the…cuteness...when we get there. Just a tad."
“What, don’t want me to embarrass you?”
“No, I don’t want them to try and fuck with you.”
You blinked at him as he opened your car door.
“Dabi, where are you taking me?”
“Nowhere bad. Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”
The car ride was handsy. Dabi couldn’t fucking keep his hands to himself. He really liked the fishnets. A lot. And the little patch of skin you were showing with your crop top? Drove him fucking wild. His hand started on your knee, and by the time you pulled up to your location, he’d dragged his fingers over the front of your shorts and was lazily playing with the button.
But he stopped to put the car in park, and you glanced up at the run-down building.
It wasn't like you didn't come to this side of town—saying one side was worse than the other was unfair. Both had their rundown and considerably dangerous sections. You just didn't go into those parts by yourself very often. You just went to and from work, the grocery store, restaurants for take-out, and occasionally saw a movie with your friends.
This was a bar. People stood outside smoking, some motorcycles were in the corner of the gravel parking lot, and loud music snuck through open doors and windows. And Dabi, walking around to get your door, looked entirely in his element as he slid his hand into yours and guided you inside.
"Stick by me; nobody's gonna bug you."
“I’ve been to a bar before, Dabi,” you said back.
And you had. It just had less smoke, and the beers were double the price they were here. But you weren't that sheltered. Dabi switched to having his arm around your waist when you entered, holding you close as he approached a group by a cornered pool table. Half were drinking, all dressed in different assortments of clothing. They almost looked like they belonged in a sitcom. Or an after-school special. Maybe both.
“Toga, Twice, Spinner, Shigs, Magne, and Compress.” Dabi pointed to each person in the group, but the way they were all mid-conversation, Compress and Magne were the only ones to say hello. “They all already know who you are.”
“They do?” You looked at him a little surprised.
"You think we wouldn't notice Dabi driving thirty minutes out of his way for another book or a random cup of coffee?" Compress wiggled his eyebrows, and Dabi shot him a glare.
“Come on,” he whispered in your ear. “Let me get you a drink.”
“Oh, I don’t really drink.” That garnered you a few surprised looks. “Often. I don’t drink often. I’ll take a beer.”
“Don’t feel pressured.” Dabi pinched your chin and kissed you—it felt like a clear sense of she’s mine, back off to everyone who glanced over. “You’re here to have fun with me, not mimic me.”
"A water then," you muttered, and Dabi's grin didn't falter.
“That’s what I thought. Atta girl.”
He left you alone, even if you weren't even remotely close to being alone. But Magne held out a hand and waved you over, practically shoving Compress out of his seat.
“Let her sit, Compress. Be a gentleman.”
"Dabi would kill me if I didn't." Compress did jazz hands at his seat, and you reluctantly sat down. He leaned against the pool table, beer in his hand. "Speaking of, you gotta tell us—what's Dabi like when it's just the two of you? Is he secretly a softy? Is his favorite color actually one of the ones on the rainbow? Does he smoke around you?"
You took half a breath. It smelled like stale beer, cigarette smoke, and like something had caught fire a few days ago and was never cleaned. It was certainly a change of pace from the fresh pastries and brewed coffee from work.
"He's a mystery. I don't have anything to compare it to, so I don't know what you consider soft for him. I had the same question about his favorite color. And yes—he has smoked around me." You sat back and blinked at him. "My own question: does he actually read the books he comes and gets, or are they just excuses to come to the bookstore?"
“I read them.” Dabi handed you a bottle of water and curled his fingers, instructing you to stand. As soon as you did, Dabi slid into the chair and pulled you down onto his lap. “I was there originally to find books, you know. I just happened to find someone far more interesting instead.”
You’d never sat on Dabi’s lap before. Just like the kiss before, this was a show of who you were with there. Especially as Dabi’s hand came down and slid into your front pocket. A physical representation that not just you, but he was off limits too. A sentiment that became clear when you saw a few side eyes from some women in a corner.
Some damn gorgeous women, too.
But Dabi's move had basically issued a challenge. Luckily, none of which were any guys coming over to greet you. You already dealt with creeps at work. You really didn't want to do that here.
For Dabi, though, it was different.
It took a matter of minutes before a few girls came over and leaned over the table.
"Care to play a game of pool, Dabs?" She cooed the words so effortlessly, and you tried not to show your reaction on your face. "Usual bet? Winner takes the other home. Win-win."
You steeled your expression—this was Dabi's world. This was where he hung out, the type of people he'd normally be interested in. Hot, confident, dressed like they weren't wearing a costume for a night.
“Not interested.” He sipped his beer, his hold tightening a bit in your pocket, pulling you back on his lap.
"Even if all three of us play again?" She batted her eyelashes, leaning a bit more forward to show off her really nice cleavage, and you weren't even mad at her. She was good at what she was doing—and she managed to accomplish it in less than twenty minutes. "I know you liked that last time."
But you weren't weak-willed enough to let it show on your face—customer service has taught you better than that.
"Mind if I take that bet?" You cocked your head to the side and did your best innocent gaze you could muster. "Although I'd prefer you fuck off and leave us alone instead of getting in bed with you. But I'm amenable to that."
“I don’t believe I was talking to you—”
“And I don’t believe we invited you over.”
“Dabs—”
"You heard the lady," Dabi said over your shoulder. His mouth grazed your neck, and his hand left your pocket, slinging itself over your shoulder so he could basically hang off you. "Fuck off.”
They lingered for a second before giving up and turning, sulking back to their corner with the rest of their group. You were tense on Dabi's lap, and he was aware of it, turning you to face him. The kiss was slow, and he tasted slightly like the bitter beer he'd been drinking. The insecurity, the anger, it was still there. But Dabi was a fantastic kisser. So you gave yourself the kiss, making him come to you to deepen it.
But you broke it just as it started.
“Hey,” he murmured, fingers swiping along your jaw. “Ignore them. I don’t even know their names.”
“I…” You took a slow breath. “I need to get some air.”
Dabi followed you outside, away from the smokers. It didn’t make the air much cleaner, but it was fine enough. Dabi ran his hand over your back.
“I don’t know them.”
"I don't care if you do." You shook your head. "We didn't...we don't have a label. You can sleep with whoever you want. I don't care about that.”
Dabi looked skeptical, but all he said was, “okay.”
“But you didn’t warn me about that. I would’ve liked to know beforehand I was going to walk into a space full of people you’d fucked.”
"I didn't..." He leaned against the side of the building. "I slept with one girl there. First night here. Just needed to blow off some steam, she let me."
“I would’ve liked to know that I might run into them before we went in there.” You dropped your head back and closed your eyes. “Just so I could prepare myself.”
"You handled yourself more than well enough." Dabi narrowed his eyes, and you just shook your head.
“It’s not about throwing a bitchy comment back. It’s about…” You ran your hands over your face. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. Let’s go back inside.”
“Hey.” Dabi grabbed your wrist, brows pinched. “What’s it about?”
You gave him a soft smile. It wasn't his insecurity to worry about. "Nothing. It's nothing you gotta worry yourself with. C'mon, your friends are in there."
You managed another hour before the insecurities set in deep. Dabi had you back on his lap, occasionally kissing your neck or running his hand over your waist. But your mind wasn't in the bar—not entirely.
His friends were fun—a little crazy—but fun. But they only could do so much to keep yourself out of your head. And it was starting to become hard to throw your thoughts aside and participate in the conversation.
Not until there was the harsh sound of glass shattering on the ground nearby.
Under you, Dabi cursed. He was on his feet before the first punch was thrown. The two guys landed on a table first, then on the pool table in front of you. You yelped and jumped back, and Dabi was already putting himself between you and the fight. You jumped again when another glass was broken, and you tripped over someone engrossed by the fight. Dabi caught you but your hand also caught the table where a shard of glass sliced your palm.
You cursed under your breath and the anger that flashed on Dabi's face was visceral. You thought he was going to punch the person who'd inadvertently tripped you, so you grabbed his hand and moved towards the door. As soon as you hit the outside, Dabi was on you, pulling out a white handkerchief and wrapping it around your hand.
“I’m sorry.” He led you to his car. “I thought…I’m sorry.”
“Dabi, it’s fine. I’ve cut my hand before.”
"Keep pressure on it till I get back, okay?"
You nodded, expecting him to start the drive back to your apartment. But he didn't. It was a five-minute drive before he pulled up to another apartment complex. He got your door, and he was leading you inside, up some stairs, and inside a three-bedroom apartment.
You were dragged from their kitchen and living section into a very navy, gray, and black color-schemed room. Dabi sat you on his bed, and he disappeared only to return with a first aid kit.
"So, this is where you live."
“I live with Shigs and Compress.” He opened the kit and took your hand. “This might sting.”
You winced as he cleaned the cut but did your best not to make a sound. The concern was prominent in his features, irritation too.
“Dabi.”
“What don’t I have to worry about?” His brows were pinched hard when he looked up. “What you said when we were outside. What don’t I have to worry about?”
“It’s not…it’s…it’s stupid, Dabi.”
“Tell me.” He bandaged your hand. “Please.”
He peered up at you from where he was squatting on the floor, his eyes dark and sharp. There was a deep-seated softness in his features that made you speak—it was one you'd never seen on him before.
“You had to show me how to…” You motioned down at his lap. “Blow you. The other people you’ve been with, you didn’t have to teach them. I’m…it makes me feel inadequate. Like you should be with someone whose hand you don’t have to hold through every step.”
Dabi was quiet as he closed the kit and set it aside. He rose and sat beside you on the bed, cupping your cheek as he leaned forward and kissed you. It was an uncharacteristically sweet kiss. Slow and tender.
“Never call yourself inadequate.” He kissed you deeper. “Never.”
"I am, compared to them. I'm not being self-deprecating there. It's just a fact."
"Every damn part of you is wonderful." He kissed you harder, and you gasped. "You want to talk about inadequate? You're looking at him, baby. You're not inadequate. Don’t call yourself that.”
His hands skimmed up your waist and he pulled back, turning away and breathing heavily.
"Dabi." You reached out for him, and he held up a hand. "Everything okay?"
You meant it beyond him moving away, but Dabi stuck with only answering it partially.
“We need to move to the living room.” When he glanced back at you, he just nodded down at you. “It’s easy to have restraint in your room. It’s harder when you’re on my bed, dressed like that, and I really want to show you how wonderful you are.”
You bit your lip and, mind still a bit fuzzy from everything and body wired from adrenaline, leaned back on your good hand. Swinging your legs open just barely, you glanced up at Dabi. His breath was slow and shaky.
“Show me, then.”
“(Y/N).”
“Fuck me. Ruin me.” You swallowed your nerves. “Please, Dabi. Fuck me.”
There was only a beat where Dabi exhaled again, and then he was on you. An arm wrapped around your waist as he nudged your legs open. He kissed you drunk as his hips settled between your legs and his other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair.
“You want me to fuck you that badly?” He rolled his hips against yours. “Beg for it. I know you will. Praise kink, dirty talk, loves to beg.”
He grabbed your wrist and pinned your hurt hand to the bed, squeezing it once before bringing his hand to slide underneath your shirt. He pushed it up and groaned at the bra. It was a black push-up bra that really accentuated your chest. And Dabi fucking loved it.
He pulled the cup down and his mouth was on your nipple instantly. He sucked as he freed and twisted the other. Licked as his thumb swiped. Nibbled at the sensitive skin as you squirmed underneath him.
“I don’t fucking hear you.” He pulled your shirt over your head and threw it aside. Then his hands went to your belt. “Whatcha want, baby? Whatcha want me to do to you?”
“Fuck me, please.” Your eyes closed as Dabi finally unbuckled your belt. As soon as that was done, he was pulling your shorts off.
And then he saw you were wearing crotch-less panties, and he cursed loudly. He looked fucking feral.
He ripped the crotch of your tights open and shoved your legs open.
“Really?” His eyes were so wide. “You wore these for me?”
“Mhm.” You nodded. “Just for you.”
Dabi looked back down and grinned wildly. His fingers parted your folds almost lazily, and despite how wet you were, he still spat on your clit. He kept you spread and bare, fingers going to your clit as he lolled his head to the side and watched you.
“You want me to fuck this pretty pussy tonight?” He pinched your clit. “Look at your poor clit—so needy. Maybe I’ll just give that attention all night.”
“No, please.” You grabbed at his comforter. “Dabi, please.”
"What?" He brought his other hand up and pressed a finger to your entrance. "I could tie you up just how you like and tease that clit until you can't cum anymore. Don't you wanna cum?"
He got one finger, then a second in you in easy succession, and found the spot that made you dig your feet into the mattress. Dabi wasn't going slow—it was almost a relentless pace.
“I do.” You couldn’t keep up with all he was throwing at you. “But I also want you to fuck me. I…I want you to fill me. Stretch me.”
Dabi’s fingers hesitated briefly before he was back to chasing your orgasm. He had no intention of stopping, even mocking you a bit as you started to squeeze his fingers.
"Wow, already? The fight turn you on that much at the end there?" He slapped your clit once, and you yelped. "Or does the dirty talk really do it for you?"
When you didn't answer, he tested a third finger, and you gasped at the stretch. His fingers slowed—stealing your orgasm away—but it alleviated the burning sensation.
"I forgot, you're also a slut for praise, aren't you, baby?" He worked his fingers slowly. "I mean, look at you, taking three fingers already. That's it, good girl. Doing wonderfully.”
You instinctively opened your legs more, and Dabi laughed, pushing his fingers deeper, rocking them against the spot that made you whimper.
"When you met me, you ever think I'd have you on my bed taking my fingers like this? Moaning so pretty, soaking fucking wet, wishing I'd give you my cock?" Your orgasm was closing in again, and Dabi was well aware of it. "Cause I didn't. The pretty little sweetheart at the bookstore? Never thought she'd give me the time of day. Boy, was that a pleasant surprise."
“Dabi.”
“Ain’t nobody holding you back from cumming. Fucking cum, baby. Cum for me and I’ll fuck you as long and hard as you want.”
You did, groaning loudly and pushing your head back against his thin pillows. It was like a bolt of lightning through you, and Dabi fucked you through it, keeping his fingers in you until the last wave hit you.
“Look at you all fucked out.” He slowly pulled his fingers out. “You still want more?”
You took a very careful breath and pushed yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him straight.
"I want your damn cock in me, Dabi. Now. So take your damn pants off and fuck me."
That feral expression was back, and Dabi looked excited to strip.
He had scars. They'd been covered by his shirt, so you'd never seen them. They were faint, but they littered his upper body. But you didn't ask questions—Dabi wouldn't give you any answers. Not right now, at least. There were a few on his legs too, but you weren't as up close and personal with those.
“You’re not inadequate,” Dabi whispered against your lips. “You’re not. You’re more than I could ever deserve.”
He ran his cock between your folds, grazing your clit with each little thrust. The condom was bright pink—it was the only one he had left from a joke pack Compress had gotten with fun flavors.
“Breathe.” He kissed you gently as he lined his tip up with your entrance and pushed in. It burned and stretched, but he went in easily. “That’s it, good girl. Fuck.”
He paused somewhere around halfway in and gave you a second to adjust. The only thing you could do was hug him close, eyes clamped shut, trying to get yourself to relax. Then he continued, going until he was flush against you.
“That’s my girl—fuck—taking every inch. Doing so fucking well.” He dropped his head into the crook of your neck as he shuddered. “So fucking tight.”
His thrusts were slow and shallow, carefully deepening them only when your body started to relax.
“I have so many ways I wanna fuck you. So much I wanna show you.” He moved a little faster when your whimpers turned to moans. “But tonight, I’m just gonna fuck you sweetly. Wanna feel you cum around my cock.”
When you didn’t answer with anything more than a whine, Dabi kissed your jaw.
“Doin’ alright there, baby?”
"Mhm." You were feeling a mixture of pleasure and pain, both fairly equal. A few tears snuck out, and Dabi kissed them away.
“Tell me when.”
"What?" You were slightly cut off as Dabi shifted, adjusting his hips and yours. That pleasure-pain mixture fluctuated from that to just pain to sudden pleasure, and you yelped. "There, right there."
"There it is." Dabi's thrusts were a little harder, making sure each one slammed against the spot that made you desperately latch onto him and sob in all the best ways. "Feelin' that good, huh?"
“Don’t stop.”
“Don’t plan on it.”
It was a gradual increase in speed and Dabi's hand dropped to your neck. Experimentally, as you chased the high he was throwing your way, you reached up and closed his fingers around your throat. Dabi almost stopped, his hips stuttering for a few thrusts, kissing you fucking hard as he tightened his grip on your throat.
“So fuckin’ dirty.” He groaned. “Fucking who would’ve thought, huh? Little goody-two-shoes likes to get choked. I can’t wait to find out what else makes you go fucking wild."
“Dabi, I’m…keep going.”
“You gonna cum from my cock? Spread fucking wide in my bed in those crotchless panties?” He groaned presumably because your walls tightened around him—you were so damn close. “Wore those for me. Fucking magnificent.”
Dabi closed his hand around your throat a little tighter again and slightly angled his hips, so as his cock hit deep, he grazed against your clit with each thrust. You lasted about fifteen more seconds, and then you were done. You buried your face in his shoulder as you came, biting down as that bolt of lightning from earlier was back, spreading over every inch of your body.
The pleasure twisted, and you practically gushed over his cock, and Dabi fucking lost it.
“My girl.”
He fucked you through it, slamming into the spot that made you grateful nobody else was home—you couldn't keep yourself quiet. There wasn't much pause before he was following you over the edge, hitting deep as his hips stuttered, and he groaned. His arm hooked around your waist as he hugged you.
He held you close like that as you both trembled, feeling Dabi soften inside you.
“Fucking hell, (Y/N).” He kissed your jaw, cheek, and then nose. “You okay?”
"M'fine." You blinked up at him, cheeks wet from tears and cold from the AC.
“You did so well.” He wiped your cheeks.
“I didn’t do much.”
"Mm. You did. But next time, I'll have you ride me. How about that?"
“Ride you?”
Dabi laughed and pulled out. He kissed your forehead and sat on the edge of the bed, removing the condom and tying it off. You watched as he turned and tried his best to take the fishnets off smoothly. But it wasn’t exactly easy to be suave at removing tights. Especially when your legs were like jelly.
He handed you a large shirt from his drawer and pulled on his boxers, very pointedly helping you under the covers and even tucking you in. With an arm thrown around you, he pressed his chest against your back.
“I’m sorry again about the bar.” He kissed the back of your neck.
“Don’t apologize.” Your eyelids were heavy. “Worth it. And I like Compress—he’s fun.”
“Mm.” He held you firmly. “I’m very glad Toga suggested we go check out the bookstore. Got to meet you.”
You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy Dabi’s hold. He was protective at the bar, but this was all personal comfort here. And for a moment, there was the wonder if Dabi ever got this kind of comfort. Whether he did or didn’t, he was enjoying every damn second of you in his arms. And so were you.
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