Sometimes I Think Abt What If Pervy Brothers + Innocent Mc That Unintentionally Does Stuff That Turns

cw: breeding

dabi who practically explodes when you call him his real name while fucking. the revelation that it’s not just the villain you love - it’s all of him - the villain, the tortured child, the man who loves you - every part of him.

your mouth lets out a weak “touya” while he’s inside you and suddenly he loses all control - hips rutting ‘nd bucking into you like a dog. he practically cums on the spot, shaking and grunting loudly through a world-shattering orgasm.

then, he’s practically drooling; doing and saying anything to hear it drop from your lips.

“say it again, babygirl. c’mon, say my name.” he moans - dick as deep as it can go, before sliding out all the way to the tip and shoving back in, kissing your most plush, sensitive spot with every stroke.

“t-t-touya~” weakly rolls its way out of your lips as white cream from just before spills out of you onto the sheets below with every thrust.

“no, louder baby, c’mon… say it for me”

“t-touya-”

“that’s it. who’s making you feel good?”

“you are, touya~” you squeal, his hands gripping the meat of your thighs to push you further into a mating press.

“whose pussy is this, doll?”

“yours, touya. it’s j’st for you!”

“that’s right. all mine. and i’m the one you love right? i’m the whose baby you want - whose cum you need, aren’t i?” his blue eyes stare down at you in a mix of possessiveness, love, lust and desperation.

“yes. yes it’s you, touya - I love you, touya. want you, touya. want to have your baby, touya.”

dabi touya swears he’s never cum harder in his life.

STUDY BUDDY.

An easy afternoon date with your favorite tutor <3

tutor izuku 🥺 + fem reader. cunnilingus + size kink + pussyjob. messy relationship dynamics (is he ur tutor? is he ur bf? we don’t know anymore) but ur in love w him ok? insp by @oh-katsuki & this post by @kazuwhora ♡

betaed by my baby @ihatebnha :3

“are you even listenin’ to me?”

your eyes flicker up from the pretty girth of Izuku’s neck. you can’t really help yourself—all of him is just so pleasing to look at. the swift curve of it leads into the broad stretch of his shoulders. shoulders that blend into thick arms that give way to a pair of hardworking hands. they’re covered in scars, his hands. palms and knuckles, alike. he must’ve been a fighter as a kid.

the thought of nearly makes you burst into a fit of giggles. izuku? a fighter?

he wouldn’t hurt a snake if it bit him.

you smile at the frown settled into ‘zuku’s mouth. your fingers bat away at a few stray strands hung over his eyes. he lets you.

you sigh sweetly, adoringly. little hearts beat in your eyes. “your hair’s so much longer now.”

Izuku sighs, exasperated as he leans into your touch. the unfortunate frustration in his voice is a symphony to you.

“i know it’s complicated. let me walk you through the steps, okay? it’ll be so easy after that! i promise.”

you groan, shifting forward on the blanket to sit next to him and smush your face into his shoulder. your whining comes muffled against the cremé cashmere of his sweater.

the study date is in the middle of a field near your college campus, both of you entangled at the legs atop a large pink blanket you’d brought from your dorm. you’re curled into his side, humming a pleased little moan when he shifts closer to you.

it’s a multipurpose field. normally, it’s buzzing with laughter and vibrant energy when you come out here. but oddly enough, there aren’t a lot of eyes out this Wednesday afternoon. but you suppose that may be a good thing. the sun showers the earth in gold, easy winds surf through the air, and you and izuku soak it all up for yourselves.

“i don’t care about statistics, izuku.” you nudge his knees apart with the your achilles—he jumps. squeaks in surprise when you nudge your way onto his lap. his hands jump to your hips reflexively, and he eases you down into his lap as if he’s done it a million times before.

izuku’s always been very patient with you. lenient and forgiving; he indulges in your whims more often than he cares to keep track, but what can he do when his favorite little minx is just so—

“can’t you just do it for me?” you whine, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck. he’s slumped enough that, like this—kneeling at the top of your knees—you could give him a face full of tits.

pretty tits. your tits.

“tutors don’t do the work for you.” he chastises, shaking his head to rid himself of the thought. he’s happy enough to simply sit and soak in the warmth you give, settled comfortably into his lap and curled around his torso. he’s content enough just looking at you. with pink blush dancing across your cheeks. and your hair pinned up so pretty. and your lips, so glossy and sticky..

if you…

izuku swallows.

if you leaned in, even. just—just a liiitle more. he could—no, izuku. stop that.

he tries again, “don’t you wanna learn how to do it without me?”

you mull over his words. weigh your options carefully for two, maybe three seconds before you lean up again to wrap an arm around the top of his shoulders. the other gently sweeps his hair back to reveal his forehead. adrenaline rushes through you when startled viridian eyes blink up into your own.

izuku doesn’t move an inch. he doesn’t even breathe.

finally, you pout, then pull back to cup his chin and gently tilt his mouth up towards your own. it’s harmless, really. just a girl having a tiny bit of fun with her tutor.

heh.

“i don’t wan’a do anythin’ without you, Izuku.” you promise like the good girl you are, batting your lashes and lovingly groping him all over. a sweet squeeze to his bicep, a hand over his pec, fingers pressing along his stomach. he’s yours to touch, after all.

izuku gapes up at you.

you, he riots to himself, you little—you damn succubus!

your warmth caresses his skin, melts into his entire body when you wrap around him like predator around prey. you feel as soft as you look. body so achingly soft, izuku let’s you take up all of his space—as much as you want. his eyes flutter shut when you lean your face down to bump your nose to his. he parts his lips for you, then, instinctively. a soft groan rumbles through his chest, and finally, he cups the back of your neck and lurches up to meet your mouth with his own.

“mmf!”

izuku doesn’t let up, doesn’t pull away until he’s had his fill. a thick, wet tongue greedily licks into your mouth. his fingers—thicker, rough, but they feel so good—sink into your hips to keep you still. but they’re everywhere, cupping your jaw, sliding up the delicate curve of your spine to bring your chest into his, to curve your body against his. once he’s impatient enough, he starts squeezing at your thighs to shift you even closer.

“wait,” you whine, helplessly clinging to him. a string of spit connects your lip to his after he finally remembers he has to breathe. “izu, izu—,”

“mhm?” he hums, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. like he’s reminiscing, lost in the memory of the feel of your mouth opening so prettily for him. his hands slide to cup the curve of your ass cheeks and gently lift. the lower half of you slides just the tiniest bit up his stomach as izuku bends his legs in at the knees to sit criss-cross beneath you.

“yeah? y’okay? did i hurt you?” he snaps out of his stupor. his hands massage up your spine, lulling you in by the waist as his eyes urgently flicker over you. “c’mere, let me see.”

izuku is strong. you’re not sure if he plays a sport—you don’t think he does. what kind of male college sports player does their own homework? let alone helps someone else do theirs? but he practically manhandled you into his lap earlier! and you’re not the easiest to lift and just plop down. you can tell just by looking at him that he’s stacked. but feeling it? that’s a completely different story.

“m’fine,” you huff, a hand at izuku’s chest to keep at bay. he’s so fussy. you’re just.. a little frazzled. the softer parts of you ache just a little from his wandering fingers. your mouth is buzzing, your nerves frayed. “didn’t think you’d—you’d—,”

“yeah,” izuku sighs wistfully. his fingers lightly stroke at your tummy from beneath the hem of your shirt. “me neither.”

you can feel his heartbeat kiss your palm from over his tit—feel it come in quick, eager thumps. he’s excited.

izuku wraps his fingers around your wrist. “knew you liked me,” he grins. “at first, i couldn’t tell. but then kacchan said i was real dumb if i didn’t see it.”

“kacchan?” who?

warm fingers give a quick squeeze to your thigh. “my roommate, baby.”

baby. your tummy flutters. “oh.”

izuku huffs a chuckle at the lost look in your eyes.

“you’ve seen him before,” he reassures you. his hair flops as he leans his forehead down to rest it on yours.

“the blond one?” he whispers, like it’s some big secret between the two of you. “gives me a hard time when you’re late for our sessions.”

“uh huh.” you nod. you remember him—vaguely. he hasn’t spoken much to you, but you do remember the fleeting sensation of being pissed off because of him.

there’d been an astringent of foul names—mostly including “shitty deku,” and a few minutes of loud pot-banging, followed by something snarky like, “someone’s always in the fucking kitchen when i need to fucking use it.”

“i don’t like the way he talks to you,” you scowl, matching the serene quiet of his tone.

izuku smiles at the irony of the serious twist in your face and reaches a large hand to engulf the side of your face. big fingers gently stroke down your cheek as a thank you, for worrying about him.

“i don’t like you either,” you say pointedly, around the thumb he has pressed to your lip. just to see the smugness in his eyes come falling apart. “you make pretty girls do math instead of just doing it for them. that’s’a crime.”

“i know,” he coos, bringing your hand to his chest, eyes glittering and a lazy smile curls across his face. “i know. m’sorry. don’t know what a villain like me was thinkin’.”

“you should be.” a quick huff to accentuate your distress. it’s hard to keep it up when he’s so adamant on touching you, feeling you, trying to lure you in and kiss you silly all over again. s’difficult to think anything when you can feel him all over you, with every inch of your skin fiending for his attention.

s’hard to focus on anything but izuku when everytime you shift your hips, everytime he adjusts beneath you, you feel it pressing into you. shamelessly bulging and throbbing against your panties.

“mhm,” izuku innocently bumps your jaw with his nose. “on my knees, begging for forgiveness, even.”

“you’re hard,” you whisper, almost petulantly. satisfaction blooms in your chest when izuku goes still against you. his mouth falls open, freckled cheeks budding hotly with pink. “and you have been. s’been sticking into me since i sat on you. don’t y’think you should handle that instead of mocking me?”

one beat.

not a lick more than one.

“izuku—!” you shriek lowly, toes curling as he suddenly throws himself forward to lay you down backwards. the palm of his hand at the back of your head cradles it from any thumps.

“how am i supposed to handle anything with you?” he pants over you, eyes dark and attentive, still so sweet on you as he frowns from above.

“you’re evil,” he groans, even as you tug him down to kiss up his jaw. “bring me out here to study, then sit on my lap? i can’t keep lettin’ you toy with me, baby.”

“s’not my fault.” your breath hitches. izuku hooks his fingers in the waistband of your skirt, uses it to jerk you off the ground by your hips, then smoothly yanks it down. while all you do is stare up at him with stars in your eyes and a hand balled in the neckline of his shirt.

“someone’ll see,” you whisper. you feel so small laid out beneath him like this. but your toes curl at the thought, the implication of being caught—someone finding you here, fucked open and stupid and dripping onto your pretty pink blanket in the afternoon sun under izuku midoriya of all people.

“they can watch,” he mumbles back, pressing his hands into the backs of your thighs. “they can watch me take you apart. can’t let you wiggle away f’rm me again.”

he trails a messy line of kisses down your neck, your chest, pauses and places one on both of your nipples—for good luck—and then suddenly, he’s having a showdown with your pussy. his warmth concentrates over your panties, and all you see of him is a sea of wavy green.

izuku ducks his head. his fingers clench at the plush yield of your thighs as he drags you closer to his face, buries his nose into the damp cotton of your cherry-patterned panties. your thighs clamp nervously around his ears—he almost misses the pitched, little “yeah,” you whimper in return.

something unintelligible rises from izuku’s chest when the smell of you wafts through his nose, when the ghost of your taste fills his mouth. he bumps his nose closer into your clit, and flicks his tongue up against your leaking hole through the cotton when you whimper about it.

“what’re you…?” your hands spring to twist in his hair when izuku tilts your hips upward and gently sucks at the material covered in your slick. “you’re so weird!”

but the man pays your embarrassment no mind. izuku breathes you in, hefty, deep gulps of your cunt. blunt nails pinch into your ass cheeks, then he drags you by the hips to pull your cunt over his face religiously. his eyes roll up at your assault on his senses. you’re everywhere, making his mouth water and destroying his brain cells—a vixen. but all of you sounds so sweet. you start to keen and whine when his nose bumps your clit over n’ over again, n’ izuku knows he’s addicted.

“thought you hated me,” he shudders. “so this—this is—,” his forehead burrows between your hips, fingers curling around the crotch band of your panties. he almost tears ‘em apart when he goes to tug them aside. when green eyes burn black and his grip on your thigh tightens enough to make you whine out loud, you think maybe he’s forgotten what he was going to say.

broad shoulders shift and flex under your legs. just this angle of izuku is enough to get your pussy flowing even messier, clenching around the tough muscle of his tongue. all you can do is hang on and cry when the man leans forward so much, he’s raising the lower half of your body into the air. sucks greedily at your puffy cunt, and you can feel it all. your toes curl, eyes rolling into your skull as izuku takes and takes and takes, swallows every wave of slick, meets every roll of your hips to smother your pussy against his face like a pro with a forceful slurp of his own.

your voice trembles, like the rest of you. “yeah, well, this’s why, y-you freak.”

soon, he’s pulling his other hand from your ass to wiggle your panties down your thighs, then off your ankles. the cotton falls from your toes and plops onto the far bottom of the blanket behind him, then izuku’s attention is lavished entirely onto the junction of nerves between your thighs.

green eyes fall low, dark and focused as he presses his tongue into your cunt without another word. he brings a thumb up to gently lift the hood of your clit and takes everything you give him, the saltine sweat and the tangy taste of pussy—the entire lower half of izuku’s face is sticky.

“y’mean that?” he asks, husky.

you don’t have much of an answer to give him, still twitching and huffing with aftershocks of a not-quite orgasm.

and when you can’t make words, izuku dips back down to plant kisses that flutter along your skin. sweet sucks to your slit, quick nips to the insides of your thighs, he takes his time carving the memory of you into his mind. wants the softness of you to imprint against his body. to haunt him for all his days and all his nights.

“so pretty,” he rasps, throaty and raw. in desperate need of oxygen, izuku has somehow managed to tear himself away from your cute, puffy pussy. one hand rubs soothingly at the curve of your waist, the other stationed next to your cheek to hold his weight over you. “knew this pussy would love me.”

“what?” you gasp, eyebrow twitching at his audacity.

“think about you so much,” he coos, grins real dreamy when your eyes find his. “how could i not? i just.. wanna be covered in you. want people to look at me and know m’all yours.”

“sh—shut up,” you whine, thighs clenching nervously around his torso. his eyes flutter at the feeling. “shut up, you’re so embarrassing.”

“i know, i know,” he sighs. “stupid izuku, what’s he even talkin’ about?” a dopey grin curls at the corner of his mouth when he shifts up your body just a little more to press his lips to your mouth. you welcome him, even chasing after the taste of you on his tongue when he pulls away too quickly for your liking.

izuku leans backwards to sit straight up and brings you with him with his hands splayed across your spine. follows the first kiss with a second, and then a third. and another, and another, and another, while he cradles you in his lap again. chaste, and sweet, and lovely. he’s in the heat of your fourth kiss, this one a little less tame and more tongue than the others, when you gently force your cheek to his and nudge his mouth.

“i wanna feel you.” you pant, eyes wide and begging as your breath fans over the one side of izuku’s freckled face. your arms tighten around his shoulders.

“what?” he sputters, eyes bulging from their sockets. he adjusts you in his lap with the arm around your waist, the other below your ass—you keep slipping because he’s kneeling, not sitting.

(“sit back, baby,” you purr in his ear, low and cool enough to not disrupt the meltdown he’s undergoing.)

“are you—are you sure?” he wheezes, fidgets around until you nearly slip out of his arms. “shit. sorry. i just don’t—i don’t have any condoms. i could pull out, if you really wanted? no, i want that.”

you bounce as he sets you down on the blanket in front of him, then, head hung in shame, he follows suit and plops back down to sit across from you. “and s’not safe. and i’m.. not the most reliable.”

“your pull out game’s weak?”

“what?” he stops twiddling his fingers immediately. his head snaps up to you.

“hush,” you wave him off. “lean back s’more, i’ll make it work.”

“whatever you want,” izuku softens. he plants his hands on the ground and shifts back to give you space. “could have anythin’ from me’ y’know that?”

“hm,” you hum, crawling forward to get your sticky little paws on the button of his jeans.

“a car?” you pop the button with a swift, little pinch.

“i can take you to class,” he offers instead.

“you do that now,” you tag down his zipper and pout. “sometimes.”

“you should say thank you every once n’ awhile,” he teases. radiant veridian eyes gaze down on you sweetly.

your fingers tug his jeans apart at the opening. you shimmy his jeans down his hips and reach forward to peel back his tiddy whites next.

“never,” you grin. “what would i ever thank you for?”

izuku’s cock flops out of his underwear quick enough to scare you. it throbs in the air for just a moment before slumping down n plopping onto his abdomen. it’s curved, you realize, stars spawning in your pupils and a greedy little grin curling in your mouth. you tuck the band of his underwear beneath his balls, fat and heavy under your fingertips. the contact makes izuku shiver a little.

the ardent wonder of it all dissipates slowly when you realize, subsequently, just how stupid fat it is.

you inhale sharply, eyebrows pinching at the intimidating mass of cock before you.

“why is it so…?”

“…yeah?” izuku looks down at you. a subtle frown in his mouth and a worried pinch in his brow. too—small? he’s not the biggest.. he knows that.

“so, what?” he presses, tries not to sound too forceful or anxious.

it’s heavy, you decide, finally taking the appendage into your hands. heavy, and daunting.

he’s hard, unmistakably. izuku groans when your hand stretches around the base of it. he mutters something about how soft your hands are, and the hulking, throbbing mass of veins and muscle between his thighs throbs in agreement.

“th-thick.” you frown.

izuku hisses when you grip him, cheeks flushed pink at how you faun over his cock—like it’s.. like it’s a pet, or something. his hips buck. your mouth waters as it leaks from the tip, your fingers becoming sticky after just a few pumps.

“i’m—will it—would it fit..? inside?” you gasp apprehensively, eyes skirting away at the thought of izuku being too big for your poor kitty. he’d—he’d ruin it, wouldn’t he?

you crawl back into his lap and give an experimental roll of your hips. izuku’s cock pulses against your pussy. drops of precum splatter across his navel. his hips buck up, his cock slots hungrily between your lips again, then again. it’s like he can’t stop himself.

your gaze flickers up to his face. your cheeks puff with the pout in your mouth. “you’re too busy humping me to answer.”

he yelps when your fingers find his nipple under his sweater and twist.

“i—,” izuku’s tongue becomes cotton. it’s so soft, he thinks. softer than he ever could’ve imagined. and he’s tried. “of course, it’ll fit, baby…,”

his lashes beat against his cheeks. his fingers dig into the fat of your hips as your pussy flutters along his cock. up, to the leaky tip, then down, to the wide base. your cunt spills and kisses all over the twitching muscle without mercy—you’re gonna kill him. “just gotta—gotta stretch you on m’fingers first.”

you lean back and rock your hips the way you want to. you build a steady, consistent rhythm, one hand at your clit and the other tweaking at your nipple. you make sure to roll your hips up and grind them back so your clit bumps into the head of izuku’s cock—the pressure is direct and delicious, strikes of pleasure roll up your navel and make your cunt drool over the rest of him.

you hunch forward, reaching a hand down to keep his dick in place, to make sure you can hump at it as much as you want. the soft, tightened grip makes izuku shiver. with every bump of his cock to your clit, a surge of heat splatters from your fluttering pussy.

you’re soaking him.

your eyes roll up as your chest heaves, and you even pull your hand away from the nub of nerves to unconsciously sink your nails into the thick of izuku’s chest—you need something sturdy to hold on to.

“knew you were trouble,” izuku squeezes you, utterly hypnotized. his breath fans over your cheek. “knew it when—when you’d show up to our sessions and practically sit in m’lap.”

you whine.

“always wanted to keep you there, too,” he grunts. “give you somethin’ to bounce on, right in my lap—since you wanted to be there so bad.”

something desperate escapes the back of your throat. it’s all you can do to appease him. something mean tightens in your gut, sits and swells in the deep of your pussy long enough to make tears spring to your eyes.

“but—,” you sniffle, unable to look him in the eye. your heart softens at his confession, but petulance flickers across your tongue. “but you didn’t?”

izuku groans when you tighten your grip on him and drop your hips to get closer. it pulses uncontrollably in your hand, all while you hump over the top of his cock like a kitty in heat.

“wanted to take you out first,” he admits. “have you get all pretty for me. swing you around, hold your hand. make you mine.”

“izuku,” you gasp, trembling with the aftershocks.

you find your breath as your orgasm wanes. you pull your hips back to sit over the base of him. your cunt clenches desperately around nothing. pussy juices slates along the top of izu’s shaft. a cute, little snail trail.

“oh,” izuku breathes, eyes widening at the tale tell signs of your trembling pussy. “look at you. fuck, are you cumming? shit, baby.”

the coil snaps. you hump and cum and gush all over izuku with a broken wail of his name. dark waves pull and tighten in your tummy, and your entire body shudders. the hand at izuku’s chest slackens in grip, and soon follows suit is the rest of you.

“m’sorry lucky,” the words are drenched in izuku’s encouraging voice. he rumbles it right into your ear. “the prettiest girl in the world is fucking cumming all over me. god.”

you whimper, rolled tightly into his neck while the aftershocks clatter up your bones. you’ve taken refuge against his chest. the side of your head thumps with his every heartbeat. izuku’s hands flood warmth over your hips, your back. he rubs you gently, carefully easing you back down from the high of cumming all messy and drenching him in it.

you’d fall asleep if it wasn’t for his cock poking your ass.

“was it good?” izuku murmurs cheekily, eyes heavy and cheeks flushed.

“looked so pretty from down here—ugh!”

you slap his abdomen, right at above his navel, then reach down to smear the tip over his cock over your gooey entrance.

“i wanna feel you cum now,” you demand. “inside.”

“in—in—? fuck,” the words slip from izuku’s mind as you lower your hips. his cock pops through the ring of tightness at the entrance of your cunt, slick and slippery with your cum.

izuku is melting. you’ve got one hand on his abdomen to keep balance, the other wrapped meanly around his cock. you pump furiously at the base of him. in, out, in, out—your pussy clenches around the tip. hot beads of slick roll down the thickness of him, gifting your fingers a little lubrication to stroke harder beneath your pretty hole. the sight of you is a gift.

“just—just a little,” you whine, toes curling at the stretch on the inside of you. you give another roll of your hips, your nails pinching into izuku’s tummy. “can’t help m’self, m’sorry.”

“i know m’mean, but i don’t mean it,” you sniffle, press a hand to his stomach, and rock backwards on your knees.

“l-like you s’much, izu—uu!” a cry escapes you as you sink down more than you meant, the entire upper half of his cock spears into your cunt. the shock of suddenly being stretched so much sends you spiraling. you cum, again, with izuku’s name falling from your tongue religiously, mixed between squeals and squeaks.

izuku gazes up at you, fresh tears at his waterline. tries to blink them away as he gnashes his teeth together. he’s overwhelmed still, so easily—and you. you’re nothing if not overwhelming.

“fuck,” he growls, mouth pulled into a snarl. your eyes roll up at the wide, pulsing stretch of his cock. he reaches a hand for your cheeks and drags you down quickly. mwah, mwah, mwah. one kiss, two, three—and now he’s to return to splitting you open.

he grunts, “can’t believe you’re lettin’ me—sweetheart, i can’t—,”

his thighs flex. he spreads them apart beneath your weight, and bends his knees to plant his feet on the ground. leverage, that’s what he needed.

izuku plants his feet on the ground and humps greedily into your cunt until it’s stretched around too much of his stupid dick. your eyes cross as the sudden girth piles in and out of you. the sound of your own sloppy, shlurping pussy makes your body burn hot. your velvet walls flutter helplessly, the rest of you bouncing in likeness while izuku uses you. he’s just so big and heavy and strong—you know the inside of you is going to be so sore.

“you’re so deep,” you cry, tossing your head back. all of you trembles, rolling with aftershocks and overwhelming rolls of pleasure spiraling up and tightening again just beneath your navel. it drives you crazy enough to claw at izu everywhere you can get your fingers on him.

“m’too sensitive,” your nails claw at his knees.

“forgive me, baby,” izuku begs, “promise i’ll make it up t-to you, uhn.” he thrusts deeper, hits the top of your pussy as thick, hot ropes of milk fill your cunt.

“so cute when you try to be mean, y’know?” he rasps. “just to make a mess on me like th-this.”

the tears welling in his green eyes roll down his rosy, freckled cheeks. his head tilts back, stomach clenching sporadically under your fingers.

“i’m cumming,” he gasps, whines, coos. twitching and shaking underneath you, grabs a hold of you tight to ground himself. “c-cumming, m’cumming, oh no. oh no.”

there’s so much of it, goops of it spilling back down over izuku’s shaft and splattering onto the blanket below.

you fall forward with a whine, spread your thighs a little farther so izuku can get as deep as he likes. his arms come up to wrap around your waist immediately. he holds you there, thrusting helplessly as his cock pumps load after load of cum.

“s’so warm,” you sigh dreamily into his ear, lightly running your nails over his forearms. his cum pools beneath you, strings of it attaching your cunt to his cock as he jerks himself in and out of you.

“how d’you feel?” he mumbles in the come down, low and soft. a big hand soothes circles into your spine.

“m’all sore now.” phantom aches of what’s to come curl across the softer parts of your body—your thighs, your hips, your cunt. you stretch your chin up and snag the lobe of his ear by your teeth. it’s meant to be mean, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

“what else?” green eyes focus intently on your face. his other hand slithers up to cup your cheeks from beneath your chin, to tilt your head to him and make you look him in the eye.

“i—,” you blink. what’s he looking for? “what are you asking me?”

his lip curls up at the directness in your tone. “ah,” he smiles, but it’s twitchy. nervous. “just wanted to make sure you don’t hate me.”

“oh.” you blink, again. just a little dumbfounded at the relief in his voice. “no,” you whisper, tender and soft and gooey. “never.”

izu’s head thumps backwards onto the blanket. his chest rises and falls as you lay across him, and even when you wiggle around, he just won’t let you pull away.

“but i will start hating you if you make me do this math homework.”

the man groans, miserably.

NEED a fluffy sickfic where george loses his voice and reader dotes, 64 or 66 era pls - LOVE UR WRITING BTW!

whisper in my ear, a wish

george harrison x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none !

summary: sick day with geo

a/n: omg this is such a cute idea and thanks sm!!! <333 (btww i rlly liked writting this, maybe pt. 2?)

she'd never seen george this quiet before.

he wasn’t one for loud entrances or anything like that, but he was always present. a dry joke at the right moment, a gentle hum while tuning his guitar, the soft way he’d whisper some lyrics.

but tonight, as the five of them shuffled off the tour bus and into the hotel lobby, george didn’t say a word. his steps were slow and he was leaning against her more than usual, when she looked up at him under the dim light, she noticed the flush in his cheeks, and it was not the good kind.

“you okay, georgie?” she whispered, keeping her voice low so the boys wouldn’t tease.

he didn’t answer. just shruged slightly and blinked slowly.

inside the shared hotel suite, the boys were still hyped from the show, paul was messing with his bass, john was pacing in circles with a pen and paper, muttering something about new songs, and ringo had already claimed a spot on the floor to play cards.

she sat george down on the bed in one of the rooms, fingers already brushing the hair off his forehead. he felt hot, and again, it was not the good kind.

she held the back of her hand to his forehead.

“george,” she said gently. “you’re burning up.”

he opened his mouth to reply, but when he tried to speak, only a hoarse, whispery sound came out. his eyes widened slightly, surprised as he tried again, but nothing came out, just a raspy squeak.

“oh, love,” she murmured, cupping his jaw.

he looked so embarrassed and glanced away quickly, jaw clenched like he was holding back frustration or maybe just the urge to apologize even though he couldn’t. she leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.

“don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.”

she made him tea first. well, she tried to, with boiling water from the little electric kettle in the corner, the only teabag she could find, and honey she'd begged from the concierge. but when she held it to his lips, he took it without question, eyes glassy.

then she sat behind him on the bed, letting his back rest against her chest as she rubbed slow circles into his shoulders. he melted into her touch, long lashes fluttering shut.

the boys peeked in an hour later, much quieter than usual.

“alright if we crash in the other room?” paul asked softly. “we’ll keep the tv low.”

“sure,” she whispered. “he’s asleep.”

ringo tiptoed in and placed a little wrapped chocolate on the nightstand “he’ll like it when he wakes up,” he whispered with a wink.

...

her fingers threaded through his hair, the rain started tapping against the hotel window, soft and rhythmic.

Then a shift.

george stirred a little. he reached for her hand and pulled it gently to his lips, pressing a tiny kiss to her knuckles without opening his eyes.

“hey,” she whispered, brushing her thumb along the side of his face. “that’s my line.”

he opened one eye, and tapped his chest lightly twice with his finger. a silent "now it's mine.”

she giggled quietly. “oh well, i guess you’re allowed to be the baby tonight.”

george gave her a tired little smile.

then, slowly, he reached for a notebook by the nightstand and scribbled a shaky message:

“everything hurts, but you make it better.”

"well, that's my job"

he smiled and blinked a few times, then leaned over, pressing his forehead to her shoulder. she kissed the top of his head, humming softly into his hair.

Time and Time Again

*** This fic is something I've been excited for ever since @dicetheroll, @rainiishowers, and I brainstormed the concept for it in the Hive Discord! It the most voted for the recent "Help Me Choose" post, so alas, Barbatos simps, this one's for you. I hope you all enjoy it ❤️-B ***

Summary: Barbatos loves MC. He has loved them for nearly as long as he has known. He goes back and relives every second that he can with them, over and over again. But, after experiencing a time line so many times, one begins to notice certain patterns — MC getting hurt, for example. And after one too many times, he decides that he can't stand idle by any longer.

*Spoilers up to Lesson 16*

The confusion, but glittering curiosity that shimmers in your eyes never ceases to excite him upon the inevitable first meeting. It's one that he's lived a thousand times, yet still, it remains one of Barbatos's favourites.

Sometimes, when he first gets there and hears Lord Diavolo and Lucifer discussing your new pact with Mammon, he'll see you — the slight twitch of irritation in your brow in the way they converse as though you're not there. The proud puff of your chest as they remain in awe of your achievement. The flickering of your gaze around you, ever alert and cautious — and he'll forget you're not an MC who knows him yet.

But there comes the moment, where your observant stare falls onto him and your soft lips purse.

"Who are you?" You ask, just as you have a thousand times before. He's memorized the question and the way your voice dictates the words.

To him, the question reads like poetry. Who are you? So innocently unaware of the history you've shared with him. As friends. As allies. As enemies. As lovers. You ask the question, completely unaware that you are his polar magnet — a ruthless force that constantly draws him in no matter how he may resist.

And resist he did — at first at least. He had responsibilities and duties. Diavolo was meant to be his priority, not a rambunctious human who had no concept of self-preservation. And yet

"Ah yes. Pardon me," he responds with a subtle grin. "I suppose we haven't met before, have we?"

There it is. The slight flush that painted your expression as he took your hand into his and kissed the back of it.

He already knew which way this route will be going, he decided it before he even entered the timeline.

He has seen you choked, and broken, and ripped to shreds. He has seen you destroyed both mentally and physically to the point that had become nothing but a shell. He has stood as a bystander as you lived a life with each and every one of the brothers, his lord, and even Simeon and Solomon — and he has witnessed both the good and bad endings of each of those relationships.

Time, as it seems, was not kind to you, despite all the kindness that you gave. It would chew you up and spit you out with every chance that it got.

But not this time. Barbatos would be sure of that.

This time, he spared no mind to being suspicious to others or acting out of character. His only concern was you and your safety — and in order to ensure your safety, he needed to become close with you as quickly as he could.

He spent your lunch hours by your side — claiming he needed your aid with paperwork or surveying the students. It would hurt your connection with Mammon, sure, but for all his efforts, Mammon never was all that great at his job of protecting you.

He, much to Diavolo's delight, would often invite you over for tea and dinners at the castle — it was a joy to be the one to introduce you to your favourite Devildom delicacy. The honor was usually reserved for Beelzebub, but he found he couldn't help himself.

It was after one of these dinners, as you aided him in doing the dishes that he dared to spark a conversation he had only initiated a handful of times before.

"MC?" he questioned as you scrubbed the porcelain plates with the same care and ease as one would when handling an ancient artifact.

"Hm?" You hummed in response, squinting your eyes to glare through the soap suds at a particularly tough stain.

He smirked knowingly as he set down his drying towel and faced you. "Make a pact with me."

He quickly reached down and caught the plate slipping through your fingers before you had time to even process you had dropped it. You blinked at him with wide eyes as he carefully set it back on the counter.

Barbatos could feel your gaze on his back — filled with pure shock and confusion. It was one he knew all too well.

You had told him once, after the first time he had ever proposed the pact, that you had never expected him to ask you this. Not in a million years. You knew he had a pact with Solomon, but no one truly knew how that particular agreement came to be (and he would much rather keep it that way). But you also knew how much trust went into bestowing a pact with someone. It was not something to take lightly.

"Barbatos," you breathed with awe on your tongue. "You ... Why?"

To protect you. To ensure that he could be by your side in an instant the second you call out for him. To keep you safe from the world — from time. To love you.

He smiled and went back to putting away the dishes as though he hadn't just offered his entire being to you. "You already have Mammon's. And I hear that you have a contest with Leviathan soon approaching to earn his. It seems you've become a collector of sort."

And if the promptness of the decision had anything to do with the lingering threat of Leviathan's rage during said competition, well, Barbatos was hardly one to offer spoilers.

You huffed and placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to face you. He reveled in the closeness. "This is serious. I- You're not usually one for jokes. I- I mean, pacts are a big deal, right? I'm just beginning to understand that. I-"

He gently scooped your hands into his own gloved ones and peered deeply into your eyes. "We're friends, are we not?" he couldn't help the flare of pride that ran through him as your expression grew flush. "I like to keep my friends close. I like to protect them. And this, this pact? It's the best way I can think of to keep you as protected as possible."

A frown dug at your lips as you tilted your head in confusion. "Isn't that what the brothers are for? Do you not trust them?"

Quite honestly, no. He didn't. More often than not it was them who were the very cause of your pain. He would never understand why his Lord thought that it was best to keep you there, with the brothers who had barely agreed to the program in the first place, over keeping you in the castle with them. But that was out of his control.

This, however, was not.

"I think they do the best they can," he answered instead as he peered down at your joined hands. He would never grow tired of just how nicely they fit together. "But this is different. It's a personal comfort that you're alright," your breath hitched as he his thumbs caressed your knuckles. "Would you allow me that one little peace, MC?"

"Okay," you whispered, and that oh-so-beautiful burn ran through him and branded itself into the base of both of your throats, just under your voice box.

He couldn't help but smile. Teal always looked so good on you.

He lifted a single hand to touch the mark — it was still warm to the touch. "Perfect," he muttered.

The pact was good. It meant you two were connected now. But it wasn't enough.

He knew from experience. The pact alone wouldn't prevent you from nearly dying in the competition. It wouldn't stop you from getting Leviathan's cursed album and finding your way to the attic.

It wouldn't stop Belphegor.

The night before the competition he made his way to the House of Lamentation with one goal in mind — to take the pendant of the Lord of Corruption's lost wing that Solomon had given you.

You hadn't spoken in detail with Simeon as Satan had advised you. Meaning this pendant was your only chance of winning the competition. Without it, you would lose, Leviathan would never go into a frenzy, the two of you would never form a pact, and most importantly, he would never give you the cursed TSL album that would allow you access to your doom.

Barbatos knew what this meant. He would be completely shredding apart the timeline and creating a number of unknowns.

But it had to be done. To save you.

As he was making his way out the door, a large hand on his shoulder stopped him in place.

Barbatos felt his heart nose dive from his chest to his stomach as he stared at the door not five feet in front of him. "I have to do this," he said firmly even as dread began to swirl within him.

"You know you can't," came the Young Lord's voice — calm, for once. Thick with morose solemn.

The butler swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. "They're going to die.

"They will." "I can stop it." "No. You can't," Barbatos felt his hands begin to shake at the finality in his tone. "You know this. It's fate."

Anger boiled deep in his stomach at those words. "It's fate," Diavolo would always tell him, as though that excused the endless hardships you were forced to endure.

It wasn't fair, he knew that. Diavolo loved you just much as Barbatos himself did. But he didn't understand. How could he?

While he may be able to see through lies, he couldn't travel through time as Barbatos could. He didn't have the power to actually change fate like Barbatos did.

He wasn't the one who could do something, but has been forced to stand by and do nothing every single time and just watch.

Watch as your back broke and blood trickled out from your lips. Watch the soul leave your eyes as your face remained frozen in eternal horror. Watch as you died. Time, and time, and time, and time, and time, and time, and time again all because it was fate.

His hands twitched at his side. "Why?" He pleaded in grievous whisper. "Why not just this once? They live, and they'll be safe."

The grip on his shoulder tightened. "It's MC's fate to sacrifice themself for the betterment of the Devildom and those within it. Just as it was Lilith's fate to die so her brothers could fall and take their rightful place here. If it didn't happen here, and now, it would only happen later on. But in ways that we won't be prepared for."

"I know" he damn-near growled. Where Diavolo could only speak based on theory, Barbatos had lived it.

One time you were kidnapped by a rebellion who disagreed with the exchange program and publicly mutilated you as an example. The next, your head was sent to Mammon by the witches he loved to infuriate. In another, your soul was claimed by the very nature of the Devildom — torn apart by beasts and plants alike. And one more, the angels stole you to "train" and shape you until you're the perfect weapon against the Devildom that they'd been searching for.

And again, and again, and again.

"I hate it," he spits as exhaustion bleeds into his tone and his voice cracks. "No matter how many times I reset the timeline. No matter how many things I change, I-I can't-"

"You can't save them, Barbatos," a sob escapes him as Diavolo speaks. "I'm sorry, but you can't. It's ... It's impossible."

And that was it. Wasn't it? There were simply somethings that, no matter how hard you tried, you could simply never change.

A little over a week later, his pact ignited. He felt the air cut from his lungs. He felt his spine break into two. He felt the blood trickle down his throat and flood his lungs. He felt his stomach flip as he plummeted.

He felt you die. Just as you had before. Time and time again.

***Oh this may be on of my favourite fics I've written yet. I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did! Thank you all again for endless love and support. You guys are the best community I could ever ask for. Love you all! ***

Tag List: @thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @rul-of-demise @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21 @theother4 @todoroses @circus-of-freaks @fuzzyphotography @avatar-mikazuki @curatoroffiction @sunlightocean @taare-ginn @dragon-rider-with-a-book @korneatto @rphantom1

there were very few things that could take barbatos away from his work. timeline glitches or the occasional furry rodent, perhaps. today, one of those things just happened to be you.

your head laid on his chest, while the rest of you sprawled out on top of him. however heavy you might be, barbatos knew he could've gotten up to continue working at any point in the night. hours later— now 2am, barbatos remained, counting your breath by the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders.

this was nice, he couldn't help but admit.. you were nice. you were kind and inquisitive, always finding opportunities to surprise him. you also constantly searched for ways to give him longer breaks. which, while unneeded, was appreciated nonetheless. this escapade to the castle guest room just so happened to be one of those attempts.

he found your weight against him rather pleasant, like a heavy blanket, draping him in comfort and warmth. barbatos glanced down at your sleeping face, the corners of his lips pulling up softly. his fingers traced feather-light shapes along your back. though he was starting to grow restless as the hours passed, he had no intention of possibly waking you by moving.

and admittedly, he thought, maybe he might've needed this. maybe.

you've been tired these days as well, haven't you? besides your breathing and the occasional murmur, you haven't moved at all since falling asleep on him. your steady heartbeat was nearly in sync with his own. if he stayed here another several hours, would it fall in line at some point?

maybe you both needed this, he finally decided, contemplating what he should tell the little ds when they inevitably come looking for him for tasks to fulfill.

dividers from @/clutteredfun

・✶ ｡ﾟyou finally let mammon feel all of you for the first time. warnings : f. reader, some possessive talk, mammon goes raw for the first time.

“fuck.” mammon spits quietly as he kneels over you, the base of his fat cock in his hand while he guides the blunt head through your folds.

“ya sure ‘bout this, baby? t-thought about this s-so much—“ he curses softly when he fumbles slightly, the other hand that’s resting on your waist tightening as he tries to line himself up again, a little too eager to sink into your tight cunt and feel all of you.

your lips part to answer him but you only manage a whimper and a nod when the fat head finally pushes into your already flexing walls and mammon groans, gliding past the spots that have your thighs twitching around his waist to force even more of his cock inside of you.

he feels like the rooms spinning, your walls tightening and sucking him in the deeper he goes and he can feel every flex of your muscles against his cock until he’s almost hunched over you, resting his forehead against your shoulder when he finally bottoms out, the hand that was previously on your waist moving to twist in the sheets beside you.

“o-oh fuck, baby. you’re so tight, fuck! ya feel so good.” mammon grunts, the muscles in his back expanding with each of his shakey exhales as he tries to catch his breath above you—a little embarrassed at how close he already feels but how can you blame him when he can feel every twitch and flex of your pussy around him, arousal pooling in his lower stomach as he hisses through his teeth before finally drawing his hips back.

“‘ts g-gonna feel so good fillin’ up this perfect—fuckin’—pussy, all mine.” his voice is low, slightly shakey with anticipation and need as he follows each word with a sharp thrust, cursing under his breath when you babble and grab at him so needily with each smack of his hips against yours, his cock thickening and twitching against the addictive, needy hug of your body—your walls almost desperately trying to pull him back each time he rocks his hips “oh, baby. ‘ll give it to ya—it’s all y-yours too.”

mammon growls wordlessly, leaning over you once again as his hands grab at the pillow next to your head—his other hand digging almost painfully into your waist to help with pulling your hips down to meet each of his heavy thrusts, your body clapping against his as he fucks into you, panting over the skin of your neck before his lips are gliding over the most sensitive parts that have you keening below him.

“‘s it feel good? yeah? shiiiit—ya drive me fuckin’ crazy. ya love—“ he takes a ragged breath, rolling his hips into yours a little sloppily before he groans again “y-ya love how good i make ya feel, don’t ya?” and you whine, grabbing at his broad shoulders to keep yourself some what grounded as his thrusts speed up, and he curses roughly when you leave red marks on his smooth, tanned skin, his pace stuttering when it only makes his cock throb inside you—his lips parted as he pants and growls in your ear, his thrusts loud and clapping.

“goddamn, wanna feel all of ya, baby—ughhhh—“ the silver haired demon babbles, his brows furrowing as he drinks in the sound of your sweet moans and the feeling of your walls around him, memorising every dip of your body. “f-fuckin’ cum for me. holy shit—i gotta feel ya, fuck!”

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

3 days...

Minors do not interact.

Masterlist

You do it just to spite him, he thinks. Hanging out with his brothers, laughing so freely right in front of him, having such a good time. It irks him. He could make you laugh like that if you'd just let him.

No, that's not fair, he chastises himself, he's gross, and weird, of course you don't want to hang out with him.

So how did he end up in this situation? Stroking his cock the way he always does when he thinks about you, only this time you're watching him. You're watching him -- and you're touching your gorgeous, wonderful, juicy pussy right in front of him! Because of him!

Levi watches with rapt attention the way you pump your fingers into your core, use your other hand to play with your clit. His gaze is trained on your pussy, and if it were anyone else, you might feel shy from putting on such a show. But he is enamored, so focused on watching you that his hand has slowed on his cock.

"Levi," you hum softly, somewhere between a pant and a moan, "I want to see."

He starts slightly, moves his hand again in the same quick rhythmic pumps as before. He can't imagine why you'd want to watch him when you get to touch yourself like this. That's far more interesting to him than having to watch the gross way he jacks off, but you keep insisting, and he'd give you anything you asked for.

He won't last long. He knows as he flicks his wrist at the end of his stroke, that he'll blow his load so much faster than you will reach your high. Maybe you'll let him eat you out after, he thinks.

"I'm close," he warns, breath light and airy. His eyes are still watching the way you play with yourself, and you are far too focused on watching him than truly seeking your own release. He's pretty like this; long limbs outstretched, one hand splayed over his belly while he slides the other over his cock. A slight sheen of sweat coats his body, makes him glisten in the low light.

He comes with a whimper, spilling his seed over his knuckles and the using the extra slickness to finish the job. It's messy, fitting. He loves the way your eyes devour him.

"Now- now can-" He's about to ask if he can help you through yours, but you surge forward, seal your lips around his cock, slurp up all of his spend and he thinks he might pass out from how sensitive he is and how perfect you feel.

His voice peters off into a whine, "oh god. That's- that. That's -- fuck that feels so good."

Just wait until you sink onto him, you think, popping off of his dick like a lollipop. You move to straddle him, delighting in the way his eyes go wide and he starts to stammer something unintelligible.

"I'll do all the work," you whisper right next to his ear, "just relax."

HighSchool!Cartman x Reader Smut

Basically I have a high school au where Cartman goes to fucking therapy and becomes a slightly better person

He doesn’t support hitler anymore and isn’t racist/homophobic, just a general bitter asshole now. He joins the high school’s boxing team and earns the nickname “The Bull” because of how strong and big he is, and he gets one of those funky nose rings and a tongue piercing (which will come into play later 😳👉👈). He’s still friends with the others but trying to focus a little more on his academics as well so he’s not seen as some kinda dumb jock.

Reader is afab with gender neutral pronouns because I’m kinda half writing this for myself but I want all y’all to read this too 💀

Some ideas of what they look like ^^

OK ON TO THE FIC

—————

You stepped out of the car and onto the icy ground, shutting the door behind you. You waved your mom goodbye and turned to look at the entrance of the school. South Park high, one of the shittiest schools in the country.

Walking up the steps, following the stream of people, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You were about to turn and look before a gloved hand clapped you harshly on your back and slid down to your waist, hooking you tightly to the side of the person grabbing you. You immediately knew who it was.

“Kenny! Off, off you perv!” You shoved the taller guy off of you, his muffled laughs getting louder as he took his hood off.

“Sorry babes, I just can’t help myself with that pretty little waist of yours.” He purred, looking you in your eyes with those piercing blue points. You scoffed, not fazed one bit.

You had moved here in your freshman year, two years ago, and quickly became acquainted with Kenny and his group of friends, eventually joining them on their outlandish adventures. You were used to Kenny and his perverted nature, although he had become more persistent towards you this year. You supposed you had hit some sort of growth spurt over the summer, but you were all together during the break so you couldn’t understand how he would be able to tell a difference.

The others caught up to you and Kenny, panting and almost slipping on the ice. Stan smacks Kenny on the head.

“Stop creeping on y/n, Kenny.” He scolds him.

Cartman chimes in. “It’s not his fault they got so fucking hot over the summer.” You blush and look up at him, he’s staring directly at you. He has an almost hungry look in his eyes. You turn away.

“Don’t talk about them like that!” Kyle spouts, towering over Cartman.

Kenny laughs, “Kyle, you’re just saying that because you want a turn with their gorilla grip pu-“

“Can we please change the subject?” You interrupt him. They all look at you sheepishly, except for Cartman. He’s still eyeing you hungrily.

“Right. Sorry y/n. We’ve uh, reached class anyway.” Stan apologized for his friends.

You all sat in your respective seats and listened as Mr. Garrison (who according to the group really shouldn’t be teaching anymore) drawled on about nonsense in his personal life.

You caught Cartman staring at you a few times, to which he would resort to playing with his nose ring and looking at the back of Bebe’s head.

He had always been a bit interested in you, but recently you kept catching him looking at you all the time. You wondered if he would make a move at some point. You would definitely accept if he did, you knew that. He had grown more attractive each year you knew him. This year he let his hair grow out, and every time he would box, two locks would fall in front of his face and his hair would get all messy. You loved it.

His reputation as “The Bull” had grown recently when, during a match, he knocked his opponent straight out of the ring. To celebrate his victory, he took his shirt off and flung it into the crowd, spurring a movement of girls to start fangirling over him at every turn. They called themselves “The Bullshitters” which was literally the worst name they could think of. Cartman acted like he hated the attention but you could tell he secretly loved it. They followed him everywhere when he wasn’t under the protection of the friend group.

Anyways, by the time Garrison actually got to the topic you were supposed to talk about that day, the lunch bell rang.

You got your lunch from the lunch lady, the group making their usual remarks about how they missed some guy called Chef. You all sat at a table, you taking your place next to Cartman.

After talking for a while, Cartman laughed at something and placed his hand on your thigh. You froze and looked up at him, but he kept talking with the others and didn’t move his hand. You bounced your leg once to try and get him off, he didn’t budge. He gripped a little tighter and rubbed it with his thumb.

You knew you weren’t able to move his wrist, he was one of the strongest kids in school, so you just accepted your fate and kept eating.

Suddenly you noticed a girl walking over wearing a shirt with Cartman’s face on a Bull’s body on it. You groaned.

“Bullshitter, four o’ clock.” You muttered to the occupants of the table. They all turned to look at the girl approaching. Cartman finally took his hand off your thigh so he could stand up.

“I got this, it’s fine guys.” He waited for the girl to fully approach. He hulked over her like a beast. “What do you want? An autograph? Lock of my hair? What.” He crossed his arms, clearly trying to seem intimidating.

“i want bnnbvjvjbmb” she mumbled softly.

“Speak up.” He held his stance.

“I want to have sex with you.” She said, looking him in the eyes. He kept his cool, although you could tell he wanted to laugh in her face.

“No.”

She teared up and tried to punch him in the stomach, but he caught her fist, twisted her arm behind her back, and pushed her on the ground, leaning over her.

“Stay away from me and my friends, you hear me?” He growled into her ear. He glanced at you through his peripheral, making sure you could see his smirk. Almost as if saying ‘wish this was you.’

He let her up and she ran off crying. He sat down like nothing had happened and started eating again. After a second of everyone staring at him, he said, “What? She attacked me.”

They all shrugged and agreed and continued eating until lunch ended.

——

After school, Cartman got the attention of the group before you all split up.

“You guys wanna stay over at my place tonight? My mom’s out, probably fucking some guy, and the house is free. I have Zombie Destroyers 4~” he said, a lilt in his voice on the last word.

“Sounds good.” Kyle said.

“Yeah fine with me.” Stan.

“Mhmhmhh!” Kenny mumbled through his hood, you all took it as an ‘absolutely!’.

“Yeah, I’ll ask my mom.” You said, texting her. You got a quick response, a yes. “Yeah I’m good, let’s go. I have extra clothes with me already.”

“Sweet.” Cartman said, mostly directed at you.

——

After hours of playing Zombie Destroyers 4, watching badly directed pornos, and gorging yourselves on all the snack cakes and cheesy poofs you could fit in your stomachs, you were exhausted. Everyone except you, Cartman, and Kenny were sleeping. Kenny was still up watching some shitty porno on the living room floor and you were sitting next to Cartman above him on the couch.

Cartman had snaked his arm around your shoulders a long time ago and pulled you close into his chest. You could feel his warmth radiating into your body.

Currently the girl on screen was getting nailed by the guy and moaning like a bitch in heat. Cartman started to breathe heavier, you could feel it on the back of your head. You turned up and looked at him.

“You good?” His stone cold gaze twitched down to meet yours, and you could tell something was up.

“Follow me.” He grunted, yanking you from your seat. You looked back at Kenny, who waved and wiggled his fingers, smirking.

Cartman dragged you all the way up to his room where he threw you onto his bed. He leaned over you and pressed all his body weight into you, knocking all of the air out of your lungs.

“Cartman..?” You wheezed. “What’re you doing..?”

“You have NO idea what you do to me.” He groaned, grinding into you. You whimpered and closed your eyes.

“Please don’t hurt me...” you cried softly. He stopped. He lifted himself off of you and backed away, looking almost scared.

“Hurt you? I- I would never- Jesus Christ y/n what makes you think I would ever hurt you?!” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Because you’re so big... and like...” you mumbled. You saw the thought run through his head but he didn’t dare say it. “You almost broke that girl’s arm earlier..” You crossed your arms over your chest.

He paced the short length of his room. “Yeah, but, I would never do that to you.” He paused. “Y/n, I dragged you up here to rail you.” You clenched your thighs together under his gaze.

“You don’t actually want to do that, do you? I’m not as pretty as those Bullshitters.” You frowned.

“Y/n, it’s literally taking every bit of strength in my body not to hurl myself at you and go fucking haywire right now. I don’t give a shit about those bitches. Please give me your consent or I’m gonna go throw myself into the snow to keep me from going into a frenzy.” He huffed, his voice strained. He wanted you. Bad.

You slowly uncrossed your arms and spread your legs to him. “Ok.” You whispered. As soon as it clicked in his head that you were saying yes he rushed back over to you and gave you the strongest kiss you’ve ever had. He strung his fingers through your hair to pull you impossibly closer.

“Fuck, y/n, I’ve needed this for so long...” he groaned into your open mouth before resuming his barrage of rough kisses. He moved down to your neck and sucked deep hickeys into your skin, not caring how visible they were.

He quickly lifted your shirt over your head and gave you a sharp toothed smirk once he saw you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Doing my job for me, huh?” He purred.

“I was just trying to be comfy...” you shied away from him, covering your chest. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head on the bed and snarled in your ear.

“No way, cupcake. If you want out, you gotta say... hmm...” he thought for a second. Then he smiled. “Kenny fucking sucks.” You frowned.

“Whyyy?” You whined. “I don’t wanna say that about him.”

“If you want me to stop, that’s what you’ll have to say.” Then he pinched your nipple, spending a bolt of pleasure down your spine. You squeaked and gave him the stink eye. He grinned.

He made his way down to your navel, giving your s/c skin sloppy wet kisses the entire time. He pulled down your pajama pants and underwear at the same time, not being patient at all.

He lifted your legs over his shoulders and sneered up at you. “You ready?” You looked confused.

He stretched his tongue out to its full extent, showing off the little black piercing on the tip, glinting in the light of the moon shining through his window.

You shivered. You had always heard rumors from his hookups about how that piercing enhanced the feeling while he was eating girls out. You often imagined what it felt like, and now you were about to experience it for yourself.

He stretched your folds open and licked a stripe up the middle, hitting your clit with the piece of metal affixed to his tongue. You jumped at the sensation between your legs.

Then, he held you down by your hips and ate you out like you were his favorite fucking meal. Your body shuddered as you tried to keep your scream inside. He shoved a finger inside you and started to curl it towards him, making it harder for you to be quiet.

He maneuvered that little piece of metal around your clit like it was an 11th finger, at the same time pressing into your g-spot with his middle finger as hard as he could.

You arched your back, whimpering and screwing your eyes shut. It felt like heaven, what he was doing to you, yet you knew this act would be looked down upon there.

You grabbed a chunk of his hair and pushed his face in farther, moaning as he went faster. He dug his free hand deep into your hip, anchoring you to the bed so you couldn’t squirm away. You were gonna end up with some crescent-shaped bruises there in the morning.

He entered another finger and you knew you were reaching your end. You groaned and threw your head back.

“M’ close-“ you grunted, clenching your teeth together. He abused your clit, making it sore and sensitive.

The then somehow hit just the right spot, making you writhe underneath him and put both of your hands on his head as he finished you off.

He kept going through your orgasm, and as you tried to pull away he held you to his face. Your eyes rolled into your head and you saw stars. You finally collapsed into his bed. You couldn’t take any more.

“Kenny fucki- ng sucks-!” You choked out, tears from overstimulation streaking down your face. He pulled away immediately.

“Good job, using the safe phrase. You alright?” He asked, petting your head. You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to calm down. You felt like you couldn’t move and yet everything inside you was going insane at the same time.

“Cartman, I knew you had a good tongue but I didn’t know you were THAT good! Who knew you cared so much about your partner’s pleasure?” You said, astonished. He scowled at you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just kind of have a reputation for being a selfish asshole...?”

He huffed. “I’ll show you selfish.” He stomped over to his bedroom drawer and rummaged around for something.

After finding it, he came back and sat down on the bed. You heard a belt unbuckle and his zipper unzip, and his pants fell to the floor. You lifted yourself on your elbows to see what he was doing.

He had his cock out and was putting a condom on it. It wasn’t that long, maybe around 5.3 inches or so, but it sure was thick. He was gonna fill you up and you didn’t know whether to be scared or excited.

He stood before you and lifted your legs again. He glared sternly down at you.

“Are you ready?” He asked, tapping the inside of your thigh.

“Not really but I doubt you’re gonna let that stop you.” You laid back down, preparing yourself as best you could.

“Damn fucking right.” He rammed himself inside you to punctuate his sentence, making you let out a choked moan. He was just slightly too big for you, stretching you out a little farther than you were used to.

He leaned over you so that his body pressed into you once more but allowing for you to breathe a little better than the first time. You could feel his breaths on your lips as you looked into his eyes. Something felt different this time. More… intimate. You looked down at his lips, back up at his eyes, down at his lips again, and leaned up and closed the gap between you two.

It was a sweet, gentle kiss that you held for a few seconds before he broke it and dropped to your ear. His breaths grew heavy and you could feel his length twitch inside you.

Right. He was still inside you.

He put his lips up close to your ear.

“You are my. fucking. cocksleeve.”

You whimpered, and at that, he fucked into you once more, earning a louder whimper. Again. A louder sound. Again, harder. Again, louder. Cause and effect. He picked up a steady pace, digging his face into your neck and his hands into your hips.

He got harder with every thrust, and it got easier to take his girth, but more difficult to be quiet. You slapped a hand over your mouth to which he immediately grabbed and pinned down by the wrist.

“No. Let them hear. You’re mine now. Let the whole fucking world know, I don’t care. Just make those beautiful fucking noises.” He groaned into your neck, lifting your hips with his remaining hand so he could angle his dick deeper.

“Oh, fuck it!” You exclaimed, finally wrapping your legs around his waist to get as close to him as possible. “Cartman~” you moaned, grabbing on to his hair with your free hand.

His pace slowed and he growled. “Say my name.” You whined from the lack of friction.

“Cartman.” You said again. He groaned.

“No dumbass, my other name.”

You were confused. “The Bull?”

“Eric! My name is fucking Eric!” He snarled, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head, fucking into you at a manic pace.

You shrieked, your fingers opening and closing, grabbing at nothing. “Eric! Fuck, Eric! Oh fffffuck~” your moans grew louder. Tears started to stream down your face, you were so fucking overstimulated. You were so close, and he was not. Your eyes were cloudy and you couldn’t see anything, but you could tell he leaned closer again. He started to kiss the tears off your cheeks, all while railing you like an animal. It felt so… good.

“Ngh, Eric…” You moaned, clenching your fists. You could feel the knot building up in your stomach. “M’so close- FUCKNH~” you screwed your eyes shut and the tie broke. He fucked you through it, keeping his pace up. His cock stretched your walls deliciously, even as your orgasm threatened to push him out. He shifted a hand back down to your hip and gripped it tightly, holding you in place.

You were so fucking blissed out at this point. Stars danced in your vision, distracting you while Eric used you as his personal fleshlight. He pulled out at one point, flipping you over and pulling you to the edge of the bed.

When he reentered, it brought you back to consciousness a little bit. You turned your head enough so you could see his face, and he made eye contact with you. “M’tired..” you whined, clutching at the bedsheets. He continued to fuck you, but the look he gave you was a gentle one.

“I know. Almost done.” His voice sounded a bit strained, so you believed him. Your thighs were wet with your own arousal, the sounds of skin on skin filled the room for the longest time.

It suddenly felt like he had some kind of energy boost, and he rammed into you as hard as he possibly could. It felt like he was in your stomach, and it was delectable.

He grabbed your shoulders and slammed you onto his cock over and over, making you release guttural moans that were sure to be heard by the others downstairs.

You came once more, electricity shooting across every nerve in your body. Every sense was alight. Your skin felt so cold but so hot at the same time.

His grip on your shoulders loosened.

He leaned over you one last time, encapsulating you in his arms as if he was protecting you. He gave a few more hard thrusts. “Fucking. Mine.” And he stilled. His hot breath felt heavy on the nape of your neck. He didn’t move.

“Yours.” You whispered.

That finally caused him to stir, kissing your neck, down to your back, before unwrapping you from his arms and pulling out. You heard him dispose of the condom before returning and flipping you over. You sat up slightly so you could see him.

He looked so… ethereal. His hair framed his face, two locks coming down in the middle just like you liked it. You guessed you looked worse, and rubbed your eyes with a sore wrist. You laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. You were so blissed out you could barely think.

“Fucked ya stupid, didn’t I?”

You didn’t answer.

He sighed and stepped over to get something, before pressing the cloth of your panties to the base of your legs. He helped you into them before sitting you up.

“Arms up.” You complied, lifting your arms over your head. A shirt three times your size was placed onto your figure, and your foggy brain managed to compute that it was his shirt.

He put on his own clothes and tried to help you stand. Your knees wobbled like crazy, but eventually he got you to walk with his aid.

You went back downstairs to, no surprise, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny all awake and staring at you two. Kyle’s mouth was agape as his eyes searched your sex-riddled figure, while Kenny just smirked at Eric. Stan glared at you both.

“Jesus Christ, Cartman, what did you do to them? You guys look terrible.” Stan huffed, punching his pillow a few times and slamming his head back down into it. “We’re having a talk in the morning.” He grumbled.

Kyle just laid back down, unable to take the sight of you like that when it wasn’t done by him. Cartman led you over to the couch, stepping over his body.

“Can I have a turn with them next, Cartman?” Kenny gave you a cheeky grin as you laid on Eric’s muscular but cushioned chest.

“No.” His voice rumbled throughout your body. “They’re mine now. Isn’t that right?” He asked you, rubbing your back. You hummed and nodded your head, too tired to form words.

“Worth a shot.” Kenny shrugged and went to sleep.

“You do want to keep doing that, right?” Eric whispered to you. You nodded again and snuggled deeper into his chest.

“Mine.” You mumbled. He hummed.

“That’s right. Yours.” He petted your hair gently.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Stan called.

“Shut up asshole, I’m tryna have a moment here!”

“Fuck you, fatass!”

“Fuck you!”

Eric turned over and enveloped you completely into him. You felt so tired, and finally succumbed to the exhaustion.

This was the best sleepover ever.

i don't know why but i've had this thought stuck in my head for the past few days... perv!eddie and innocent!reader (established relationship) where he teaches her how to touch herself 😵😵 just imagine them sitting on eddie's bed, him behind reader forcing her legs apart with his thighs and just showing her how good it feels when she touch her little clit 😵😵 while telling her he loves the little sounds she makes,, im obsessed

omg sorry i took so long to get back to you!! cw: smut, 18+ONLY MDNI, eddie teaching reader, perv!eddie, kinda innocent!reader

he’s behind you, legs hooked under yours to keep your thighs spread and his lips by your ear.

eddie’s been trying to teach you how to make yourself come for at least thirty minutes but you lose focus fast the second he angles your wrist and you hit that spot.

“cmon baby, you wanna be good for me don’t you?” his words make your bleary eyes open and your head tip back.

“y-yeah.” you mumble, body malleable as eddie rearranges you.

“touch your clit for me then.” he tries to stop himself, really, he does, but his hips buck into your ass when your moans go breathy and high.

“just like that sweet girl,” eddie’s praises fall easily, his eyes trained to your body’s every reaction. “go faster baby.”

your stomach tightens as you follow his instructions and eddie chuckles when your thighs start shaking.

“you sound so pretty for me, angel.” eddie attaches his lips to your jaw when your hips start bucking up to meet your fingers.

“eddie,” you whine, so close but not having just enough to get there. “need your help.” you whimper when he only hums.

“want me to finger fuck you?” he coos and you nod, tears in your eyes as he slides his hand down between your thighs and slips two fingers into your sopping cunt.

eddie can’t get a word out before you’re coming around his fingers. “atta girl.” he coos softly, watching with pride as you come down and your hand falls limp at your side.

Needy Touches

You get affected by the gold hellfire newt syrup ((or,,, you get affected by an aphrodisiac kekeke)). 

Barbatos, Lucifer, Mammon x Reader

A/N: this came from a long line of word vomit -hence the double luci mention bc i could not figure out how i wanted to write this-…. i also tried writing a version where the reader eats enchanted pudding but i didnt finish it soooo perhaps ill post that later…. i just desperately needed barbatos smut

WC - 2.2kish

SMUT // NSFW ((reader w a pussy lol))

~~~

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