BEST FRIENDS & BAD IDEAS

♡ — jean kirstein x f!reader

Big aspirations and even bigger dildos—in which a poorly thought out plan makes it incredibly hard to act like your feelings for Jean Kirstein are platonic. Not when they’re anything but. And especially not when you’re half naked in his lap.

18+ ONLY

wc — 2.7k

prompt — cockwarming, creampie

additional content — NSFW, 18+, best friends to lovers speed run, dildo use, implied masturbation, unprotected p in v, praise kink, jean kirstein’s big dick

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come,” Jean growls, and his low, rough tone sends you off-kilter, shoving you headfirst over the precarious edge you’ve been foolishly dangling from.

In retrospect, perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.

–

In the long list of questionable decisions you’ve made today, one of the first catalysts guaranteeing inevitable disaster was your lack of foresight to lock your bedroom door before stripping off your shorts and underwear and preparing to lower yourself down onto the ridiculously large dildo that had been delivered in an even more comically large Amazon box this morning.

Your best friend of many years and college roommate, Jean Kirstein, came home just as your makeshift “stand”—you’d hastily attached the suction cup at the base of the dildo to the last clean plate in the cabinet for lack of a better surface—went flying across the rug, ripping the few inches you’d manage to ease down onto right out of your lube-slick channel. You’d hit the floor with a thud, growling in frustration. This, understandably, had the unfortunate effect of attracting the concern of said roommate, who swiftly burst into your room as if you were in the middle of being robbed.

The concern quickly morphed into hysterics as he spotted the giant purple dildo wiggling uselessly a few feet away from where you were lying on your stomach, punching the carpet and yelling at him to get out with as much dignity as you could muster.

“That’s my shirt,” he commented dryly, ignoring your pleas for him to forget everything he had just seen.

“Well it was in my drawer,” you spat back, trying to push the dildo-plate behind you, although the damage was already done.

Jean leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. “I have so many questions.”

“Our business hours are between 8 and 5, so you’ll have to call back tomorrow. Sorry,” you said with a dismissive wave, subtly kicking the plate and dildo beneath the bed.

The suction cup chose that moment to pop off, and all ten inches came rolling back into view right where a bar of sunlight was stretching across the floor from the window. It would have almost looked artsy.

If it weren’t a fucking dildo.

“I thought you ordered a lamp,” he observed mildly, motioning to the huge cardboard box you’d yet to take out to the recycling bin.

“I’m gonna order you a fleshlight if you don’t shut up,” you grumbled, shoving on a pair of sweatpants.

Jean crinkled his nose, running a hand through his hair. “That thing’s so big, the landlord might start charging us for three tenants if he sees it. Is this a cry for help?”

“I’m trying to prepare myself for seducing Eren at the party Saturday night,” you whisper-yelled, as if anyone else was going to overhear you in your otherwise empty apartment.

“Jaeger?!” he barked out with a disbelieving laugh.

“Everyone says he’s huge. I don’t want it to be a disaster.”

“He’s not that fucking big!” he exclaimed incredulously.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Can you like, go be somewhere tonight? Go get so high with Conny you forget you saw anything? I’m gonna go try in the bathroom instead.”

“You’re kicking me out of my own apartment so you can shove a giant, sparkly purple dildo inside of yourself imagining it’s Jaeger’s dork ass?”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me, Jean.”

He groaned. “The bathroom sounds like an even worse idea. You’ll slip, hit your head on something, blood will go everywhere, and we’ll lose the security deposit.”

“Or my plan will work, I’ll get laid this weekend, and you can stop complaining about how grumpy I’ve been lately,” you reasoned matter-of-factly.

Jean’s hand came to rest on your shoulder as you attempted to push past him to leave the room, aforementioned dildo jiggling menacingly in your hand. “You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he said a little more softly, raising a brow as he cast another look at the offending object.

“I have lube!” you shot back defensively.

Jean glanced up at the ceiling, muttering something about regret under his breath before exhaling, “Let me help you.”

–

In all the years that you’ve known Jean, you’ve done an excellent job at keeping your little crush on him your best kept secret. A secret kept under the most formidable lock and key, buried deep in the depths of your psyche. Tucked away in the very back of a dusty, old cabinet like an expired can of corn.

Objectively, you know Jean’s handsome. You’re well aware.

With his intense, hazel eyes—ones that see everything.

His tall, solid form.

His sinfully curved, pink lips (and his habit of idly sliding his tongue along the bottom one).

His long, dexterous fingers—a dangerous thought.

That fucking mullet he let grow in, which shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as it is when he rolls right out of bed and leaves his room looking like a pillow-rumpled supermodel.

He’s hot, okay?

And sure, you’ve drunkenly kissed at a few parties over the years. Jean’s seen your ass more times than you can count. Definitely your boobs that time he ran into the bathroom to puke while you were showering. Sometimes he has a habit of putting his head on your lap when you’re both on the couch, nudging you till you card your hands through his soft brown hair like a damn dog.

But it’s always been platonic.

Friendly.

Two people who are just very, very comfortable with one another. Comfortable in knowing that neither intends to ruin their stable, solid friendship by carelessly sprinkling feelings into the mix.

Comfortably going so far as to share the sordid details of your sex lives (or lack thereof, lately) while leaning against the kitchen counter eating take out food without batting an eye—though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t try to one up him sometimes when you feel that familiar, unwelcome twinge of jealousy yawning awake inside of you.

But this?

This is asking too much of your restraint to keep your heart walled off and your mouth clamped shut. In your defense, it was already left in pitiful tatters after grinning-and-bearing it throughout the seven-month-long nightmare that was Jean dating fucking Pieck.

—

The next phase of your slew of terrible ideas today began with Jean sitting at the head of your bed, back against the wall, holding the dildo between his legs. Like your own personal fucking dildo holder. Grinning like this wasn’t the single most awkward thing the two of you have ever done (save for the time you both fell asleep with your head in his lap on the couch and woke up to his accidental boner poking you in the ear—neither of you ever mentioned that again).

And it would have been totally fine if it worked out like you imagined in your head the moment he pitched it—you sinking down onto the silicone schlong a few times, stuffing in as much as you could while he held it still. Then letting him carry on with his day while you lay there in bed for a little while with it lodged inside of you, getting yourself used to the stretch. Totally fine.

The reality of the situation was far different, entailing a sticky, slippery mess of lube coating of your hands and a dildo that bent and flopped in every direction as you tried to carefully impale yourself on it while maintaining some sense of dignity.

You had given up fairly quickly, butting your head against Jean’s collarbone and sighing as you asked if he thought Eren would go slow.

He was quiet for a moment.

“…do you trust me?” Jean had asked carefully, like his next suggestion wasn’t going to send you spiraling.

Like “Just sit on my dick, as a friend!” wasn’t the most fucking confusing statement your heart, brain, and vagina had ever heard.

–

Which is how you find yourself in your current predicament, straddling Jean Kirstein’s lap with far more inches of him than you’d realized he’d been keeping tucked away buried to the hilt in the velvety heat between your thighs. Raw, skin-to-fucking-skin, because you’re both in a miserable dry spell with not a single condom to be found between the two of you. And somehow the combination of “known you for half of my life” and “just got tested” and “IUD” sounded better than one of you being tasked with trudging to the pharmacy.

Or, god fucking forbid, going down one floor to ask Conny for one.

Nope.

You have three days to prepare yourself for whatever may come with Eren, so sitting on your best friend’s intimidatingly large dick sans condom the least of your worries. Even if it feels so incredible you’re literally silently choking on the moan threatening to spill past your lips.

Even if you fucking swear you heard his breath hitch when the thick head of his cock began to slip past your entrance, stretching you open wide as he breached your damp channel.

Even if he hardly had to touch himself to get hard for this.

Even if his gaze darkened when you choked out, “Jean, your dick is huge.”

This was a terrible idea.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.”

“Doing what?!” you ask, exasperated.

He rests his hands on your waist, “Doing this,” and squeezes firmly, “on my dick.”

“This isn’t even sex,” you tell him, ignoring the way the close proximity of his hazel eyes sets a flurry of emotion stuttering in your chest. “It’s like, cockwarming at best. You can’t come from cockwarming if you’re not even turned on.”

Jean raises an eyebrow. “Do you even know how tight you are?”

“That’s obviously why I was worried about Ere—”

“It’s like this,” he cuts you off, wrapping a hand around your throat. It’s a loose hold, only meant to prove a snarky point, but a spark of arousal seeps through your body anyway at the mere suggestion. His eyes widen a fraction at the traitorous way your walls clamp down on him even harder in response. “What, you into being choked?”

“I’m into a lot of things, Jeanie,” you tell him haughtily, trying to ignore the heat blistering beneath your skin.

“Like dumb idiots named Eren Jaeger?” he counters, making to grab for the tongue you’re currently sticking out at him.

If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think Jean sounds like he’s jealous.

Which he definitely isn’t.

But you poke the bear anyway.

“What, are you jealous?”

He shifts slightly, and you bite your lip to stifle the moan as your cunt spasms around the pressure from his cock.

If he notices, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, his brow furrows as the corners of his mouth tilt downward slightly. “I just think you deserve better.”

You tug on his earlobe, letting out a weak laugh in an attempt to dispel the sticky, messy feeling of hope trying desperately to cling to the arousal stirring in your gut. “Says the guy who’s currently fucking me.”

Jean scoffs and deadpans, “I thought this wasn’t sex.”

Who are you kidding? Certainly not the tension coiling ruthlessly in your abdomen.

You move a little, trying and failing to relieve the sensation of hot wax dripping down your spine. Instead, you let out a tiny, strangled noise when your throbbing clit presses down against his pelvis, the resulting flood of pleasure setting every nerve ending in your body on fire.

The way he growls out your name through gritted teeth is a warning, but his low tone only serves to stoke the flames licking their way up between your thighs.

You move again, inhaling sharply through your nose.

“Fuck,” he groans quietly, head hitting the wall behind him with a resounding thud.

You’re not sure if he does it on purpose, but his hands find their way back to your hips, calloused fingertips pressing directly against your skin as he slides them up beneath your shirt. His shirt.

The next time you rock against him, his grip on you tightens. And then, you feel it—he tugs you forward.

You lean further into him, without really meaning to, forehead coming to rest against his. “What are we…”

“Just keep going,” he murmurs.

He shifts again, sinking down lower so his back is pressed against the mattress, and you realize the angle gives you more purchase to grind down against him when he pulls at your waist, thumbs lazily skimming your hip bones.

“Jean…” you whisper, not really sure what else you intend to say.

“I want you to feel good,” he says softly, pushing his hips against you, even though he’s snugly bottomed out.

It feels so fucking good—

—laying atop Jean while he stares back up at you, pupils clearly dilated in arousal—

—watching his eyes fall shut as you run a hand along the stubble on his jaw—

—knowing he’s well aware the slickness between your legs is no longer from the lube, your cunt gushing with arousal at the feeling of being stuffed deep with his thick cock.

So you tell yourself you’ll figure the rest out later when you start to shamelessly grind down against him.

“You don’t have to be quiet for me,” Jean teases when you cough to cover up a gasp.

Your answering moan is nearly a whimper, and Jean’s muscles tense beneath you as he continues to guide your hips. He doesn’t try to pull his cock out from where it’s lodged inside of you, doesn’t start thrusting and fucking up into you. He just lets you chase the clitoral stimulation you so desperately need while you’re cockwarming him, groaning along with you at each needy drag.

“Good girl, that’s it.”

This is far more intimate than you bargained for, the gentle slide of his hands up your back scraping your heart out bit-by-bit.

“Holy shit, you don’t know how close I am to coming right now,” he moans in a gravelly, unsteady tone.

All you can do is whimper his name when the rubber band suddenly snaps in response, your body trembling as a wave of white-hot pleasure crashes over you.

And then Jean’s hands are cupping your face, his lips crashing into yours. He kisses you fiercely as you whine and shudder through your orgasm, moaning into your mouth as you card your fingers through his hair. You can feel his cock throb inside of you, pulsing with need as your tight cunt spasms and contracts, relentlessly squeezing his shaft while you soak him with your release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he’s groaning, both of you too drunk on pleasure to move when he suddenly climaxes, cock pumping thick, hot ropes of cum deep in your pussy.

Chests heaving, Jean slowly sits up, forehead falling against your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist.

After a few minutes of silence, he finally murmurs, “Don’t fuck Jaeger.”

You tilt his head upward, finger resting just below his chin, skimming the stubble that’s there. Too many emotions are swimming in his hazel eyes, more than you can identify—save for one that you recognize with a jolt of clarity. It’s the way you look at him, when he’s not paying attention.

Longing.

Desire.

Soft, gentle, unfiltered affection.

This time, you’re the one to close the distance between your mouths, brushing your lips against his.

“Who?” you ask, smiling into the kiss.

Jean chuckles, the sound like warm honey, and he deepens the kiss, one hand sliding to the back of your head. Though you remain seated on his softening length, cum begins to seep from your slick heat, pooling on his balls and abdomen.

He goes to move, but you don’t budge. “You wanna get cleaned up?”

You shake your head, the corner of your mouth tilting upward with a smirk. “I’m comfortable.”

Jean bites his lower lip, huffing, “My cum’s dripping all over, and I’m two seconds from getting hard again if you keep squeezing down on me like that.”

Feigning a look of innocence, you flex the muscles in your tight, soaked channel one more time for good measure. He chokes, and you grin.

“Good.”

— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!

More Posts from Bookvvitch and Others

bookvvitch

4 months ago

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

CW: dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex, praise kink, fem dom, teasing, heavy petting. Proof read but no beta.

This chapter is possibly the horniest thing I've ever written lmao. Enjoy 💜

Chapter 7: Good Boy

“Gah, son of a bitch!” You drop one of six bags of groceries you’re bringing in at once.

You hate when it’s your turn being the grocery shopper. It seems like you always get stuck with this shitty job, probably because you’re the least recognizable out of everyone—which you do understand. But still, everyone here eats like a horse, so you end up having an entire two carts full of goods to bring in. You’re already pent up and mad just thinking about how you have to put this all away.

Unfortunately, there’s a meeting for the Vanguard Action Squad going on, so while everyone would normally be scrambling to help you bring everything in, you’re dealing with it alone this time.

“Piss, fuck, shit and hell,” you mutter under your breath as you drag the bag you’ve dropped into the bar with your foot.

Twenty minutes later and you’ve finally got all of the groceries put away. You nod proudly at your work, then turn to see Dabi leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets and blue eyes fixed on your form.

You startle, “Jesus. How long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” he rasps, whiffs of smoke on his breath.

“And you didn’t offer to help me because...?"

Dabi grins like he knows the punchline of a joke he hasn’t even told, “Thought maybe you could use some punishment for going out like that after I told you not to once already,”

Your brows pinch in confusion before you realize he’s talking about the leggings you’re wearing. Regular, commonplace, black leggings that he apparently thinks he can reprimand you for leaving the house in, despite seeing several other women in the exact same pair at the store.

Right.

Because he thinks he’s the one in control right now.

That's alright, this can be a good lesson for him.

“Sit on the couch,” your voice has grown husky, low in your chest, sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine.

He scoffs, “You think I'm just gonna—“

You narrow your eyes and dole out, “I said sit,”

Dabi isn’t sure what the hell has come over him, but he does as he’s told. He listens to your command, skulking silently to the couch, then taking a seat dead in the center as an act of rebellion so you won’t have a seat for yourself. You walk over to him calmly, like a stalking predator, a glint in your gaze that says you’re up to something. He gulps down the knot at his Adam’s apple, doing his best to stay still, concealing the shake in his hands as he peers up at you through his eyelashes.

“Good boy,” you coo at him with a grin, and his breath hitches, eyes shot wide.

“Don’t,” he clears his throat, “D-don’t fuckin call me that,”

“You don’t like it?” you tug at his earrings playfully.

He blushes bright pink at your question, pursing his lips, avoiding your eyes in the hopes that looking at the floor will quell the heavy stirring in his pants. He shouldn’t like this. Dabi is the one who should be in charge right now, not you. This is wrong.

So why is he this fucking hard right now?

“I didn’t say that,” his voice cracks, you taking control having made him feel bashful and small.

“That’s good,” you sit on his lap, eliciting a grunt from him, “Because I think you’re the one that needs punished. But don’t worry,” you lick your lips, “I’ll reward good behavior,”

Your eyes flick towards him from over your shoulder, pupils blown out, the pheromones coming off of you close to knocking him back.

Okay. Calm down. He’s been through way too much to let this get a rise out of him, and there’s no chance in hell he can give you the satisfaction of knowing that this is absolute torture. He tries to think about horrible things to keep himself from becoming too excited, but it’s too late; you have, quite literally, gotten a rise out of him. You press yourself further into his lap, sighing, planting your hands on either thigh.

Fuck, okay, just concentrate.

He shifts to rearrange the pressure in his pants, and a small noise gets caught up in your throat, something breathy, a wisp of a moan. Dabi pauses, aware now that his role is the prey you’ve been stalking in the night, before he gives another experimental nudge of his hips. You sound off with his movements once more, your cheeks pinched rose, lashes fluttering over top those starry eyes. They’re glassy and warm when you look at him, rocking into him with more purpose.

“Fuuuck,” he smears his face with his hand, sweating, pulse in his fingertips, “If you don’t stop I’m gonna take you seriously,”

Two pairs of eyes meet when you tell him, “Then take me seriously,”

He doesn’t recognize the needy little whimper that rackets from him, rutting his cock against the searing heat of your sex beneath your clothes, matching your thrusts and grinds, eager hands grabbing at the inner plush of your thighs to spread them more.

“There you go, good boy. Nnn, yeah. You like that?” You slip your clit up and down the length of him lightly as you murmur into his ear.

He nods his head softly, apprehensive to show you just how much he’s enjoying the dominion you have over him.

“Say it, then. Say you want my pussy,”

Dabi swallows thickly, maddened by the delicious writhing of your body, by the needful expression you wear in spite of the command in your voice. You haven't hardly touched him and he's already wrecked. And he has a feeling you won't relent until he fully admits that.

“Ahh—God, fuck, I-I want your pussy,” he stammers unsteadily from behind you.

You trace a featherlight touch up his arm, then guide his hand to your aching cunt, his breaths becoming ragged heaves as you do. He groans when he sees your lids flutter at the way he rubs you in long, laving strokes through your pants, whining and bucking beneath you quite shamelessly now, the fingers of his other hand biting into your hip, unsure if he wants to push you off or hold you in place. You pull down your shirt and place both of his rough hands at your exposed breasts, and he groans, almost painfully, while he tweaks at your nipples. The sound sends a bolt of lightening straight through your center, and you abandon trying to pace yourself, grinding on his cock once more, the noises you’re making sinful and lewd.

“Stop, wait, I—fuck, hold on,” he gasps urgently, and you turn to smile at him with a wanton deviance, ceasing the brutal rocking of your pelvis.

“What’s gonna happen if I keep going, hmm?” You trace a finger up the pulsing length of him through his pants.

“Mmhh, gonna.. gonna…” his brows knit, shoulders tight and tense, and you can’t help but giggle at how spent he already looks.

“Gonna what? What am I gonna make you do?”

He groans, hips twitching involuntarily, “You’re gonna make me cum,”

“Poor thing,” you reach back to card your fingers through his hair, “We can’t have that so soon. Or maybe even at all, since this is a punishment,”

You shift to face him, cupping his cheeks with your hands, then press your lips against his, tongue ring clicking the backs of your teeth, savoring the little grunts that flit from him in gentle puffs. He prods at your cunt sloppily, fingers petting you roughly, and you gasp at the pressure, rolling your hips in little circles to encourage the same movements of his digits. The coil within you tightens, winding deep and close to snapping, worsened by the way he’s panting. His eyes are cracked open just enough to watch your expression as he dips his hand past your waistband, the tip of his index finger working your clit, a pleased gasp escaping you when he moans into your mouth.

Arousal has clouded his mind until he no longer cares what comes out of him, pleading with you, “Lemme eat your pussy,”

As soon as you nod, he’s got you slung over his shoulder, wordlessly carrying you into his bedroom. He closes the door behind him with his foot, then throws you onto his bed, calloused hands ripping off your leggings and then dragging up your thighs. He pulls you to the edge of the mattress, eye contact unbroken as he takes the elastic of your panties between his teeth, and you yelp when they snap back against you. With a deep inhale, he licks you through the material with one long stroke, palming at his cock as your breath hitches.

“How do you like it?” He asks darkly, voice having taken an octave lower.

Your body burns along with the cerulean of his irises, cunt clenching around nothing as you try to hold onto what’s left of your power grab, “Lick my clit and put your fingers inside of me,”

He pulls down the damp panties that cover you, clicking his tongue, breath shaking.

“And I thought I was worked up,” he murmurs, “You’re fuckin soaked, doll,”

You buck into his face, and he grins wolfishly, the tables having turned now that you’ve shown your hand. He pulls you apart with his thumbs and ghosts his lips across your apex, gentle kisses tracing the little bud, and you writhe at the sensation of his panting against your sex. He chuckles mirthlessly as you let out a heady moan, slides two fingers into the velvet of your walls to feel you clamp around him.

“You like feelin full?” He asks into your twitching cunt, and your desperate nod has him adding another digit as he growls, “There ya go, babe,”

“Oh, fuck, Dabi,” you mewl, arching your back, toes curling in your socks.

He flicks his tongue across your clit, slow and methodical, a faint whisper of a touch that has you reeling for more. The ball of his tongue ring grazes you gently, sending your walls fluttering. You're not going to stand being the one getting teased like this. He makes a loud, strangled sound when you grab a fistful of his hair, pressing him by the back of his head into your pussy, muffling his cries as his eyes roll back.

“Open,” you pat his cheek with your free hand, and he complies, hanging out his tongue so you can glide yourself across it.

He works his fingers in and out of your sopping cunt, arousal dripping down to his wrist, and he curls his digits into the soft ledge within you until you cry out for him. His eyes are glazed and half-lidded, a groan rippling through his chest, cock pulsing within his pants as you graze your clit over the firm muscle of his tongue.

“Take your cock out for me,” you yank his hair as you speak.

“Uh-huh,” he obliges with his mouth full of your pussy, too fucked-out to disagree, his free hand releasing his dick from the confines of his zipper and relieving some of the growing pressure there.

You yank his hand to your mouth, licking a big, wet stripe up his palm, “Play with it,”

He slams his eyes closed, brows tilted up as he pumps himself, heavy and hard in his hand.

“Good fucking boy. Ahh—now suck,”

Dabi takes your clit in between his lips, capturing it fully, his tongue laving against the underside as he suckles your swollen bud. The moans pitch higher in your throat, sweeping through gasping exhales, nails scratching at his shoulder blades and causing him to grunt in approval.

“O-oh, just like that—just like that, Dabiii-aahhh!”

He runs his grip harshly over his shaft, thumbing his tip when his hand reaches the top, precum leaking to mix with your spit and lubricate him further. Your legs are shaking, hips stuttering as he coaxes you into an orgasm so intense that you’re seeing stars, and he hums against you when he feels the clamping of your cunt around his fingers, little moans and whimpers slipping pitifully from him as he watches you fall apart all over his face, feels you spasm around him.

You pull at his shoulders until he parts from you, panting, mouth glistening with your slick, his eyes glassy with lust. His length bobs in front of you, long and dripping, rosy and flushed at the tip, curved up slightly and so hard that it touches his stomach when it bounces.

You hum, a bit shocked at the size of him, “Pretty cock for a pretty boy,”

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his face burns pink, stating lowly, “I’m not pretty,”

“You are, though. You’ve got such pretty eyes, pretty lips, a cute little nose,” he looks awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to do with your praise, trying in vain to figure out a way to tell you just how beautiful he thinks you are. These thoughts are knocked loose when you purr, “Now c’mere,"

With shaking arms, you guide him until you’ve lined up his dick to where it rests teasingly between your folds, squeezing him at the base and dragging your still sensitive clit along his length.

“Hah—lemme fuck you before I bust, holy shit,” He’s close to begging, the words sitting right on the tip of his tongue.

“Well that doesn’t sound like much of a punishment,” you hiss through your teeth and circle his tip against your apex, the buildup of another orgasm tightening in your cunt, “‘Sides, this feels really good,”

“C’mon, Jesus, mmmnn.. You lemme lick your pussy. F-fuck, please,” his voice falters at the end, dangerously close to cumming his fucking brains out.

“Did you like it?”

He nods his head, brows knitted, eyes falling closed, “You taste so good. Made all those noises for me. Wanna hear more’a that. Want you bad—want you so bad,”

Unable to withstand the temptation any longer, aching to be filled, you slip him into the damp plush of your center, unraveling as he stuffs himself in to the hilt, broken cries bleating into the air as he gasps at the feeling of being inside you.

“Goddamn, babe, you cummin again already? Fuck, yeah, you are,” he only gets a couple of thrusts in before the dam starts to break, babbling, drunk off of you, “That feels good. Oh, fuck, feels so good, tight little cunt milking my cock like this. You like that, doll? Yeah ya do, just look at you. Gonna cum in this wet pussy while you cream on my fuckin cock—I’m—I’m gonna—ahh, fuck!”

He yanks your legs apart, convulsing atop you, fingers gripping into the meat of your thighs as he whines, ruined, completely broken after experiencing the burning heat of your pleasure. You can feel him pulsing as he empties himself, throbbing, electricity racing up and down his spine. He's never felt anything so good as having you cum all over him.

“Good job,” you pat him on the cheek, “mmm, such a good boy, fucking me with that pretty cock,”

He kisses the side of your neck, chest heaving, bathing in the post-sex bliss of softening within you.

“You’re so crazy,” he whispers.

“For sleeping with you or thinking you’re pretty?”

He chuckles under his breath a bit, “Both,”

With a grunt, he pulls from your walls, watching as his cum leaks from your raw pussy, the spasms leftover from your orgasm causing rivets of white to gush onto your thighs.

“So hot,” he whispers to himself.

Dabi takes off the shirt he was wearing to dab you clean, careful not hurt you, gentle in a way you hadn’t expected of him.

“You don’t think you’re pretty?” You ask as he crumples the shirt, throws it to the floor.

He looks at you as if you’re stupid.

“Are you stupid?”

Well, you guess you should’ve seen that question coming.

“No, I just think you’re really cute,”

Dabi snarls, gestures to his entire body, points at the staples on either side of his face.

“So?” He rolls his eyes at your remark, “No, really, I think you’re cute. Those things just give you character,”

You cuddle up to him, his body stiff as a board, pressing your head to hear the beating of his heart. He tries to shrug you off, but you remain steadfast.

“This is what matters, even if you don’t think you’re a pretty boy like I do. You’ve got a good heart,”

“Gonna harvest my organs or something?”

Grinning, you tap him playfully on the arm, “No, jackass. I meant you’re a good guy. You’ve been nice to me since I got here. Even that thing you said about not liking the way I dress was because you didn’t want people looking at me,”

“Actually, doll, I didn’t want you figuring out how you drive me wild in those tight clothes,” the words escape his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Well, either way. Don’t sell yourself short,” you tell him with a stretch.

“We, uh.. we gonna do this again?” He fidgets with the button on his pants as he asks you this.

You shrug, “If I feel like it,”

“What? C’mon, that felt good. I know it did, you came twice. I can make it feel even better if you’ll let me fuck you right next time,” he tries not to seem too eager to convince you.

“I dunno,” your voice lilts, “depends on how well you behave for me, I guess,”

“Behave for you?” Dabi repeats, watching you practically skip out of the room.

Behave.

So he has to play along with whatever game you've got in mind for him, then.

You’re going to make him absolutely crazy.

Tags

mha boku no hero academia fanfic smut fanfiction dabi mha dabi league of villains ao3 dabi smut dabi x reader x fem!reader shameless filth sub dabi

78 notes View Post

bookvvitch

2 months ago

Walmart is out here charging 5 dollars for a pool noodle.

28K notes View Post

bookvvitch

4 months ago

Kissed By The Baddest Villain Masterlist ⋆｡°✩

Synopsis: At the behest of your Uncle Kagero, you agree to be a member of the League Of Villains, loaning out your quirk to aid in their cause. Everything seems to be going as planned--until the guys all start acting weird. Why do they bicker every time you're in a room? How are you going to get used to all this attention?

And who are you going to decide to give it back to?

●Mature Themes ●Explicit Language ●Sexual Implications ●Suggestive Themes ●Smut

Hey everyone! Here is the masterlist for my current fic in progress, a LOV x fem! reader fic where you shamelessly flirt with the League Of Villains guys who are pining hard over you. It's rated Explicit as of Chapter 5, so this is a fic for those who are 18 or over! I do not go easy on the smut, my fics become filth with substance, I cannot stress this enough that it is for adult readers only!

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it ♡

Ch1 Dibs

Ch2 Getting To Know You

Ch3 Hail To The Queen

Ch4 So Kiss Me

Ch5 Practice Makes Perfect

Ch6 I Want You To Want Me

Ch7 Good Boy

Ch 8 If He's Rex Harrison, You're Audrey Hepburn

Ch 9 Ready Player Two

Ch 10 How Lucky

Tags

mha boku no hero academia fanfic mha smut x reader smut fanfiction crack fic league of villains fluff masterlist dabi x reader mha fluff mutual pining shigaraki x reader x fem!reader twice x reader reverse harem sexual tension slow burn mr compress x reader spinner x reader crack taken seriously lov x reader

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bookvvitch

1 month ago

"He's..."

"Fine."

There should be an equivalent to asking "how's the wife and kids?" that's like "so how's that fictional man of yours doing?"

Tags

why do i have to fall for such damaged men

55K notes View Post

bookvvitch

4 months ago

Tags

mha boku no hero academia memes hawks mha timeskip

517 notes View Post

bookvvitch

4 months ago

Me looking at myself in the mirror and seeing all the shit that still needs to come off of my face at the end of the night

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bookvvitch

2 months ago

I would just like to point out that Julius Caesar was 55 years old when he died. This means he survived FIFTY-FOUR Marches over the course of his life. Statistically he was actually VERY GOOD at surviving March.

Ides of March Georg is an outlier adn should not have been-

Tags

spiders georg

22K notes View Post

bookvvitch

2 months ago

Let this serve as a warning for those who are following my Spinner fic

Tags

mha boku no hero academia fanfic writers on tumblr fanfiction memes mha spinner league of villains ao3 my hero academia fanfiction writerscommunity

42 notes View Post

bookvvitch

2 months ago

what they don't tell you about making friends is you gotta be a lil annoying. you gotta push past the fear of "what if they don't want to talk to me" and simply ask someone how their day is going, send a meme. you cannot connect to people if you're both just awkwardly waiting for the other to start.

Tags

OKAY BUT i am very abnormal

80K notes View Post

bookvvitch

4 months ago