Bnha Masterlist

Nightmare Fuel

Summary: After venturing into the woods and stumbling across a statue, Gravity Falls’ newest resident meets her worse nightmare...or maybe her scariest wet dream.

Requested by @fivvy

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only. Minors DNI. DARK FIC! This fic contains darker themes such as manipulation, possession, violence, dub/con, and non/con! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Aged-up Characters, Bill x reader, Bipper x reader, slight Dipper x reader? (There's some tension), porn with plot, slight MabelxPacifica, asshole!Dipper, mind sex, mind break?, sex pollen-like symptoms?, supernatural elements, horror-like elements, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, revenge sex, choking, asphyxiation, accidental voyeurism. Lmk if I forgot anything! LAST WARNING! DARK ELEMENTS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AND NO MINORS!! AGES IN BIOS!! Seriously guys, it’s kinda messed up and I will block minors!

Word Count: 7.9 k

Gravity Falls. The town just west of weird. And your new home. When you were younger your family used to drive through the small, eccentric town on the way to visit family in Portland. Your parents just loved the scenic route, and the great nature of Gravity Falls was about as scenic as it got. You never stayed in the town long, but the curious corner of the world always drew you in. The people you would meet during your occasional diner stops or the stories you would hear piqued your interest. It drove you towards a love of writing and reading, just searching for vibrant characters that might match the town's local color. Which is why you decide to take a year off college and live amongst the people that initially stirred your curiosity.

Stepping off the bus, the sunlight speckles through the trees, the warmth dusting your cheeks, and you are welcomed back to the town of Gravity Falls. The scent of pine trees and maple surround you as you walk towards the town square, a suitcase rolling behind you. Checking the address on the post-it note in your hands, you make your way to the house on the edge of the woods: the Mystery Shack. It was probably more of a gamble than you should have taken to respond to the rooming ad for a place called the Mystery Shack, but it was the only available housing in the small town, so you'd just have to take your chances.

Skipping the town tour, you make your way to the tourist trap, but you take note of the town as you go. Everything seems perfectly normal, like you remembered it, but you hoped that wouldn't remain the case. You needed something interesting to write about, something to spark a flame of inspiration in your head. So far, nothing but your new place of residence seems out of the ordinary. You make it to the Mystery Shack, surprised by the number of cars parked out front. A number of people come in and out of the house, most being led around by a dude in a suit, eyepatch, and fez. Walking closer to what you can only assume to be a tour group, you listen in on the man rifting off facts about the obviously fake attractions.

"And here we have the rock that looks like a face, dudes," the tour guide said.

"But is it a rock or is it a face?"

"No, dude, it's a rock that looks like a face," the tour guide sighs as if he got this question often. "It's-it's not an actual face." This only sparks more controversy for the guide, so you peacefully excuse yourself from the group, bypass the entrance for the indoor Mystery Museum, and trudge around to the backdoor. You're pleased to find no tourists there. From the window, you notice a few people filing around the room and you hope they were the actual residents of the house/tourist attraction. Knocking on the door, you are almost immediately met by a bubbly brunette answering with a brooding blond watching intently behind her.

"Uh, hi, I'm—"

"Are you our new roomie?!" She beams, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she ushers you in before you even give your answer. Once you’re in the room, you take in each of the girls' features. The brunette smiles at you excitedly, a pair of perfectly straight teeth flashing between glossy pink lips. Her curly hair tumbles down her back, the front of her bangs are held back by a dark pink headband which matches a pair of leggings she wore beneath a white tee with a multicolored shooting star on the front. The blond behind her has straight hair, straight-cut bangs brushing over her long, mascara-covered lashes, a light purple dusting of eyeshadow matching a purple jersey shirt with a white diamond on the front over a pair of black leggings along with a pair of big, white hooped earrings.

"Yeah, yes, hi," you breathed out, apprehension and shock in your tone as you’re pulled in. "Are you Mabel?"

"Actually...I'm your new roommate!" She squeals before deadpanning with a, “But yeah, my name is Mabel.” You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.

"Well, it's really nice to meet you, Mabel," you say genuinely, a sigh of relief passing your lips along with a giggle.

"This is Pacifica, my gf and our other roommate," Mabel introduces. The blond nods her head, not saying a word as Mabel does all the talking. "And my brother also lives here but he's kinda...busy right now. He's sorry he couldn't be here for the greeting party though!" You brush that off. "How about we give you the tour and then we can get to know each other."

She grabs one of your two bags as she leads you to your room: a dark space with a slanted ceiling, a stained-glass window in the far-left corner which offers a muted colored light, a furnace in the far right, a bed at the center of the left wall, and a closet to the left of the bed. It’s perfect for a shut-in writer such as yourself. Mabel tells you that the room used to belong to her Grunkle Stan who was travelling the seas with his brother, her Great Uncle Ford.

Dropping the bags onto the bed, the three of you made the rounds of the house. Mabel and Pacifica share the attic, Mabel saying she has sentimental attachment to the space. While walking through their home, Pacifica tells you how she had grown up as a rich only child. Her parents had fallen on a bit of "hard times" after her dad made a bad investment in some bonds and they had to sell their mansion to the town kook, Old Man McGucket, and, yes, that is how he prefers to be called. After living with her parents until she was legally able to leave, her now living with Mabel and her brother in the Mystery Shack was not only convenient but is also like a middle finger to her oppressive parents. You learn all of this before you even make it to the living room. You really like how talkative Mabel is. Her extrovert personality counteracts your quiet tendencies.

Coming to Mabel's twin brother's room—who you found out is named Mason but is nicknamed Dipper—it’s a mess. Dirty laundry, papers, and books all scattered over every surface. You barely notice the shape of the bed or couch underneath the piles of clothing and maps. The only thing that seems to be somewhat in order was the bookshelf. It’s stacked to the brim with books except for the top shelf, where only three books rest, all with their covers facing out. Each one is a deep blue, a drawing of a silver Pinetree overlayed with a golden Big Dipper constellation and underneath is printed golden numbers 1, 2, 3. They look like journals, though you had no idea what information could be handwritten there. You gather that he’s either a brainiac or a maniac, and neither tend to have very clean tendencies. But you aren’t one to judge, knowing you could get the same way in the midst of an inspired breakthrough. Your muse could work in mysterious and very annoying ways: ergo the entire reason for moving to Gravity Falls.

"Yeah, my brother tends to be a bit...hazardous when he gets in the work zone," Mabel explains sheepishly. "If it's not his room, it’s the basement that's a mess. Or both. Mostly both."

You’ve stayed relatively quiet the entirety of the tour but your curiosity itches at you brain, prompting an inquisitive, "What does your brother do?"

"Science research...of sorts," she answers through thin lips.

"Of sort?" Your brows scrunch together at the vague implication.

"Yeah, I'm not entirely sure the specifics of his work, just that he has a few Ph.D.'s," she shrugs, a nervous laugh bubbling in her throat, as if it wasn't a great feat to have multiple Ph.D.'s before the ripe age of twenty-four.

"Wow, that's...really impressive," you breath, not knowing exactly how to respond to her nonchalance over the subject.

"Yeah, proud of my bro-bro, just wish he would wash his clothes," she chuckles, faking(?) a grimace and pulling a laugh out of you and Pacifica.

The rest of the tour went on like this, sharing stories and taking cracks at one another, giving you an idea of the nature of the relationship between your new housemates. Mabel went on and on about how much the house means to them, and how much their great uncles mean to them as well. It’s really sweet, and you believe that you’ve found yourself some interesting characters to write about.

Mabel is really nice and, while Pacifica had a very hard exterior, you can see her softer side in the moments when she lets herself slip out of that tough exterior to laugh for Mabel. They both help you unpack quickly, even brightening up the space with a lamp Mabel had decorated herself—crystals hot glued to the base, refracting a cascade of rainbows around the room. You feel so welcomed already.

An ear-shattering bang shakes the house, dust drizzling from the ceiling and effectively startling you awake.

"Fuck!" A voice screams. You follow it with a heart-pounding urgency, leading you to the gift shop where smoke billows into the room. The vending machine swings open, and you startle, a small squeak leaping out of your throat. A figure emerge from the smoke, coughing and waving his arms with a cap in one hand to clear out the black cloud surrounding him. When the smog clears enough for you to get a good look at the man, the first thing you saw was the mop of curly brown hair, much like Mabel's, that is powdered with soot and debris. His pale skin is marred by the caking of dirt over his exposed arms and cheeks, yet the dark circles underneath his eyes were still prominent despite only being illuminated by the moonlight seeping in through glass windows. The dark grayish-green tee with a black question mark on the front was also frosted in a layer of powder. The red flannel tied around his waist seems relatively unscathed until he uses the material to wipe what is still on his face. His arms lifted to rub off the grime, showcasing the ink markings on his forearms. You can’t help but stare at him and the opened vending machine entrance, mouth hanging open at the scene. You wonder if you’re dreaming.

"Trying to catch flies, sunshine?" His deep voice rattles. You know he’s speaking to you despite him refusing to look your way.

"Excuse me?"

"No?" He smugly questions, the sarcasm dripping from his voice that is riddled with sleep deprivation and husky from his dust-coated throat. He finally looks over at you, allowing you to meet his chocolate brown eyes. "Then you should close your mouth." You wrinkle your nose at the snark of his tone. Before you can reply, the girls come down from the attic.

"Nice going, Dipstick, what did you blow up this time?" The blonde grumbles. You make a mental note to never wake the girl from her beauty sleep lest you receive the same venomous tone.

"None of your business, Pacifica," he sighs.

"I don't know why you're in such a piss mood when you were the one to wake everyone up at three in the morning, moron," she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes so far back into her head that you’re sure she caught a glimpse of her brain.

"I know that you, more than anyone, need your precious beauty sleep, Pacifica, but my lab is not any of your concern," Dipper snaps back.

"Shut up, Dipshit."

"Buy my silence then, rich bitch."

The tangible tension in the room surrounds the house residents as Pacifica's eye twitch and her nostrils flare. Pacifica, not wanting to put up with his attitude any longer at three in the morning, mumbles a quiet, "Whatever," and turns on her heel, heading back upstairs. You can’t help but admire the great restraint on her part.

"Mason, go to sleep," Mabel utters firmly, tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance as she speaks. "You're a dick when you haven't slept in a few days." He knows better than to talk back to Mabel when she calls him out like that, especially so when there is a significant lack of a nickname.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he groans, his hand dragging down his face, smearing black back onto the skin he'd just half-heartedly cleaned off.

"And you will apologize tomorrow." It’s not a question from Mabel, the no-nonsense tone leaving little room for debate.

"Yeah, I will," he mutters, followed by a nearly silent, "When Waddles learns to fly."

"Well, he already did," she argues, leaving you absolutely confused. "I'll see if I can't get her to apologize for the ‘dipshit’ comment but yours was worse so you have to make the first move."

"I know the drill, Mabel." She nods at his compliance, turning to you.

"I'm sorry that this is your first impression of my brother," she says sheepishly, though her tone scolds him still.

"This is the Ph.D. guy?" You choke out the inquiry softly towards Mabel, shock clear in your tone. She shrugs, nods, then goes off to find Pacifica.

"You must be the new roommate," he smiles then, though it’s more condescending than friendly. Despite that, he still holds out his hand for you to shake. "Nice to meet you. Stay out of my lab."

"Noted," you scoffs, taking his hand as if in a daze.

"Nice pjs," he smirks, instantly turning your cheeks red as you remember what you wore to bed. Nothing more than a thin T-shirt that barely covers your backside. You snatch your hand back from his hold. "Oh, and welcome to Gravity Falls."

Looking around, you take in the black-and-white space surrounding you. The trees still, despite the breeze grazing your skin; the birds hover in the air, wings wide spread; the wildlife turn their heads towards you yet don't move an inch otherwise. It’s like walking into a vintage photograph. Your mind wanders as your feet carry you deeper into the forest, following the gentle stream. The only color illuminating the monochrome forest is yourself and the image of a floating yellow-

"Mabel! I've said it once, I've said it a million times! I don't want any Mabel juice!" The sound of Pacifica's shrieking voice stirs you out of sleep, pulling you from the odd dream.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you walk into the den full of commotion. "What the hell is Mabel juice?" You ask sleepily, mid-yawn. You’re met with coos about how adorable the action was from Mabel, to which you blush and sheepishly wave off, already getting the sense that Mabel found cuteness in almost anything.

"Mabel juice!" Mabel announces proudly and far too loudly for so early in the morning. "A beverage of my own invention!" She shows off, presenting the drink in question that looked like a hot pink choking hazard. "Want some?"

"Hmm," you hum in thought at her hopeful intent. "Thank you, Mabel, but I think I'll stick with coffee. I do appreciate the offer though." She just shrugs, still beaming, and pours herself a glass. The sweet smell of pancakes wafts around the room as you sit at the kitchen table. "Something smells good."

"It's my ultra-chocolate-chip pancakes with sprinkles!" Mabel announces, sliding a plate over to Pacifica with a nicely decorated array of rainbow colors over a cloud of whipped cream in the shape of the Smiledip puppy.

"Wow, is this what breakfast is always like here?" You wonder aloud, Pacifica shrugs, hesitates in thought, and then nods.

"How many pancakes, Sunshine?" Mabel hums, the nickname falling easily from her lips. She obviously makes attachments very quickly.

"One, please," you say politely. Mabel is quick to oblige, whipping up similar masterpieces that look like a kitten judge, complete with chocolate syrup whiskers, a powdered sugar powdered wig, and a bacon gavel. "Mabel, this is really incredible." You can’t even remember the last time you had a hot breakfast. Or any breakfast for that matter. You didn't exactly practice a habit of self-care while taking your college courses...or any basic needs really like a regular eating schedule or exercise.

"Why thank you, Cutie-Patootie." You would respond if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed with the bacon gavel. "Sleep well?"

"For the most part." You nod slowly before your mind drifts back to the three a.m. incident. "Can I ask you something though?"

"Shoot."

"Is your brother always like that?" Pacifica snorts derivatively beside you, as if laughing at her own inside joke echoing in her head.

"Well, if you mean pushing the reasonable boundaries of his own health to finish his current hyper fixation…then yes," Mabel sighs, offering a sad smile. "But the bitchiness, no. He’s usually sweet, just sassy. But he tends to slip into bitchy mode when he hasn't gotten enough sleep…which now that I think about it is whenever he’s on the edge of a breakthrough…So to answer your question: yes."

"Hmm, that seems so stupid, though," you hum around a mouthful of the sugar drowned pancake bite.

"Pardon?" The voice comes from behind you, startling you with a bite of pastry cat judge halfway in your mouth. You would have choked if you'd taken a bigger bite. Turning your head, syrup almost dripping off your pouting bottom lip, you see Dipper. He obviously showered which was quite the improvement from last night. Now that his face is clean you can take notice of his features. You remember the big brown eyes but now, without the smudges of grease and grime on his forehead, you notice the pair of bushy eyebrows and fluffy curls that rest above those chocolate orbs. It looks like he hasn't shaved in a while, a shadow of scruff shading his chin. Instead of the question mark tee from last night, he’s wearing a dark blue sweater with the words "Disco Girl" in bubbled sky-blue font that reminds you of a 70s aesthetic mood board which he accompanies with a pair of grey sweats. You think it an odd outfit choice for the moody man in front of you, the juxtaposition boggling your mind. He cocks his head and raises a bushy brow in question when you take your time to answer.

"I mean, it just doesn't seem very productive," you shrug when you finally shallow the breakfast bite that was stuffing your mouth, the hypocrisy dripping off your words as much as the syrup. "When you don't get enough sleep your neuroreceptors lose their sensitivity to serotonin and norepinephrine which leads to impaired cognitive function. I thought you were supposed to be a genius or something." You mumble the last part while sipping on your cup of coffee. Pacifica snorts out of laugh, Mabel has to slap her hand over her mouth to cover the traitorous smile, and Dipper stares at you with his nose wrinkled and his brows drawn together, taking in your words and frowning at the implication.

"I'm going back to bed," he announces, immediately turning on his heel. “Save me a pancake gnome, Mabel!”

"Are you a science buff too, Sunshine?" Mabel asks once Dipper has turned the corner. Peering past the wall, you check to make sure he was really gone.

"Nope," you popped the 'p'. "I got that off a tv show. I just wanted to stump him." All three of you erupt in laughter.

"Okay, I’ve decided to like you," Pacifica giggles, leaning back in her chair and giving you an approving once over. "On a trail basis, of course. We’ll see how it goes."

"Honored," you chuckle.

"So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?" Mabel asks. She turns the stove off, carrying over a plate with a llama pancake for Pacifica and her own her has a pancake shaped like a dolphin…with muscular arms instead of fins?

"Well, I wanted to check out the town a bit," you answer with a mouthful of the syrupy breakfast. "Maybe walk around the forest a bit…Any good landmarks to check out?”

"Want a tour guide?"

"Yeah, that’d be great, Mabel," you answer gratefully.

The three of you make a day of exploring the town. Mabel and Pacifica show off every aspect and share all the quirky attributes of the small town. Considering the size of the town, the tour doesn't take long. The last stop is Greasy's Diner where Pacifica works. The three of you eat lunch before Pacifica clocks into work. Mabel offers to walk with you back to the Mystery Shack before she goes back out to the craft shop for more knitting supplies. You politely decline, saying that you can find your way back on your own. You part ways and you take your own time strolling back to the house, taking the long way through the mysterious woods you've been itching to explore.

After living with the trio for a few weeks, you caught on to a few things. Mabel is a being of pure chaos, but she makes it work. She channels most of her energy into her creativity, her job consisting of running an Etsy shop selling knitted sweaters. Pacifica is actually a very chill person. She was rather reserved, and you'd catch her people watching often, especially when Mabel's friends Candy and Grenda would come over. She would often observe them with a small smile playing on her glossy lips. She seemed like the perfect balance for Mabel's wildness. And Dipper hates your guts. You're not sure why, but you frequently found him glaring at you. You're not sure what you did, but the guy always has an evil eye for you. Especially when you get back from your daily walks through the woods.

That's another thing about your time in Gravity Falls that seems odd to you. You're not sure why, but you're drawn to the wilderness. It's as if something in the forest was calling out to you.

Your mind wanders as your feet carry you deeper into the forest. Your surroundings blur and blend into the verdant brush or golden glow of the setting sun. You don't even realize how long you've been traveling until your limbs begin to ache and nothing around you is familiar anymore. You hear and see nothing resembling that of a human touch, only the steady thrum of the natural world you've stepped into. The final rays of the evening sun light your path as you venture further, a meager attempt to find your way back to civilization. However, you curiously find yourself stumbling upon a mossy mass of stone, and time seems to slow down the moment you do. The trees still, despite the breeze grazing your skin; the birds hover in the air, wings widespread; the wildlife turn their heads towards you yet don't move an inch otherwise. Coming closer, you see a scrawny statue arm reach out to you welcomingly. Your eyes travel over the attached body, the monument shaped like a personified pyramid. You tiptoe around the monolith, studying the odd artwork. A breeze sweeps over you, a shiver working its way down your spine. There's a sudden subtle tickle at the back of your brain and a slight paranoia settles across your skin. Your eyes find the granite gaze of the one-eyed creature, and goose bumps bloom over your flesh. You don't understand it, but you feel a simultaneous urge to flee as well as an overwhelming draw towards the inanimate figure. The contradiction creates a harsh turmoil within you, and you feel frozen, granting your surroundings the perfect opportunity to whisper advice into the wind. You can almost hear an audible "Run!" from the wood, but you can't bring yourself to follow the orders. Instead, your hand hesitantly reaches out to the outstretched hand, your fingers gingerly grasping the stone and wrapping your digits around the stony hand. However, just as your palm settles against the carved rock, fingers grip your wrist and yank you away, pulling you back into a hard chest. And suddenly, time is back on track. You're ripped from your daze as you're spun around to meet a pair of frantic chestnut eyes.

"What did you do?" he screams, shaking you by the shoulders. His face goes pale, deathly so, and the new ghostly shade causes the dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks to drain along with his rosy completion. You unconsciously frown at that realization.

"What?" you mutter in a trance, your mind rousing slowly from the mental fog.

"What did you do?" he repeats in a panic, the desperation in his voice snapping you out of your stupor.

"Nothing!" you squeak out in defense.

"You don't touch this!" he wails in your face. "Don't ever touch this!"

"I won't!" you cry out, hands pushing at his shoulders and clawing at his fingers gripping painfully at your arms. His eyes are searching, scanning your face and person manically. Looking for what, you don't know. But he stares into your eyes as if expecting something new. Well, new to you, at least. You get the feeling that whatever he thinks he'll find swimming in your irises is something that he is plenty familiar with. When he seems satisfied enough, he pushes you away softly. Instead, he turns to gaze at the granite figure once more. A shaky hand cards through his curly bangs, showing off the constellation of freckles that were previously hidden. The movement nearly nudges his hat off his head, letting it rest haphazardly on his head. After a moment, it seems as though he settles the argument that has been playing out in his head. He grabs your bicep and starts dragging you back to the house, ignoring your protests.

When you make it back to the Mystery Shack, Dipper drags you through the attraction side of the house, stopping in front of a vending machine. He punches in a code before pushing you through the entrance that reveals itself. You're welcomed into a dark, dusty hallway lit only by a gas lantern. You then ride down in a creaking elevator, watching the numbers change through broken display glass. Once the metal elevator gate opens up again, another room is unveiled, and you soon realize that it's the basement laboratory, the one that he specifically, in no uncertain terms, told you to stay out of. You believe it was the first sentence he said to you, actually.

This room is by far more well-kept than his bedroom, but it also seems more lived in. There are contraptions, books, papers, and writing utensils scattered over every surface, but it at least seems like there is controlled chaos.

He maneuvers you to sit on an uncomfortable wooden stool in front of a wall of monitors and computer keyboards. You don't know why you've let him direct you so easily thus far, but you might be more afraid of what would happen if you resisted. He seemed so shaken, unstable even after you touched the statue.

You nearly jump out of your skin as you feel cold metal atop your scalp. You whip around to see Dipper attempting to fit a rusty colander with tubes sticking out of it over your head. You jump up finally, drawing a line in the sand.

"What the hell is going on?" You screech, a heaviness weighing on you as the fog is finally gone and you begin to understand the possible gravity of the situation.

"Relax," he sighs. "It's a cranium scanner. It's harmless. It's just meant to scan your thoughts."

You scoff. "Why do you need to do that? Why should I believe that's what you say it is? Why were you so freaked out about that statue? Why were you even there? Were you following me? You need to work on your communication because you just drag me down here and try to hook up some terrifying machine to me without my permission and without explaining and this is freaking me the fuck out!"

His jaw ticks with every word that quickly leaves your lips. Silently, he lifts the device to his head and fits it on his scalp. The moment he does the monitor comes to life. Green words dance across the screen and mumbles buzz from the speakers. You see and hear phrases like "Fuck, this girl is annoying...I need to run these tests...We have to hurry...gotta make sure he's not back...keep everyone safe, have to keep everyone safe...Man, I'm starving...When was the last time I did laundry?...Nah, that's a waste of time...Disco girllll, coming throughhhh, that girl is youuu...Shit, now that I look at her she's kinda cut—" He rips the machine off his head and clears his throat before shrugging his shoulders and waving his hands as if to say "I told you so" in a single motion. "See? Harmless. Now put this on."

You shake your head. "I still need an explanation."

He sighs out in frustration, taking the stool for himself as he runs a trembling hand over his exhausted features. "Look, this town...it's not normal, okay? There are things here...things that can't be explained...including that statue." You stare at him tentatively, noticing the way his fingers fidget together and his brow shines with sweat. "Just...do this and we will never speak of this again." You watch him for a moment, trying to gauge whether the knot in your stomach is intuition or just nerves over his odd behavior. You don't think you can trust him...but you feel like he needs this...whatever it is. And you hope that it'll calm his erratic behavior. Plus, you're a little amazed by the mindreading device, and you kind of want to know if it's accurate or not. You cautiously step forward, nodding minutely. He rises from the seat and allows you to take it. You do, wiggling around a bit to get comfortable on the incredibly irritating wood panels.

"Can I at least get a better chair?" you grumble.

He actually chuckles, a breath of relief leaving his lips as he nods. He drags an old, velvet-upholstered chair that sits next to a chess table. He smacks the cushion and allows a layer of dust previously caked on the fabric to fly into the air. You can live with it more than the splintering stool. You settle into the seat and allow Dipper to place the appliance on your head.

First comes the shock as all your thoughts are displayed on the monitor at a mile a minute, including the thoughts of your shock. Next comes the processing as you watch Dipper take a seat and start scribbling notes as he observes the monitors. You watch as every one of your thoughts is displayed and you begin to feel exposed as every one of your anxieties are advertised. Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter close, trying your best to relax.

The next moment you open your eyes again something feels off. You scrunch your brow as you look around the room, trying to figure out what's different. Looking over to Dipper, you notice that he's stopped writing. Instead, he sits staring up at the screen. You miss how the screen no longer projects your every thought and only produces static. Your skin bubbles with pins and needles, a sudden chill filling your bones as Dipper remains unmoving with his chin resting on his intertwined fingers. You can't see his face and that alone unnerves you as the silence persists.

You hesitate to speak. "Dipper?"

His hands separate, palms placed flat on the keyboard top. Other than his arms moving, nothing else does. The anxiety is slowly pressing into your chest as you patiently wait for his next action or word. You're beginning to think you should run.

"Y'know," he starts. His voice sounds different, higher pitched, and echoing slightly. "The human mind is such a delicate thing...so fragile and easy to manipulate." He stands then but still doesn't face you. When he turns towards you slowly, his features backlit by the sinister green glow of the monitor, his movements are casual, and he leans back against the desktop with his arms crossed. You can see his eyes. They're different from the chocolate chip orbs that you saw before. Now his pupils consume the entirety of his irises, and it seems as if they're slanted like cat eyes. They almost glow yellow. They nearly remind you of...

He laughs suddenly, wobbily stalking towards you as he shakes his head mockingly. His voice morphs as he continues to make the maniacal sound. It becomes high and pitchy, echoing a shrill, unsettling quality in the sinister cackle that makes your stomach drop. "I mean, look at you! Look at how easy it was to lead you to this moment. You didn't even fight it!" Your hair stands on end at his words and your limbs tremble as you're reminded that you were worried that this would happen. Is it possible to tell yourself 'told you so'? "You just followed me through the woods. I didn't even have to trick you into taking my hand, you curious little thing!" You flinch as Dipper cages you between him and the seat, his face inches from yours as his eyes study you.

"What are you talking about?" You squeak out, your voice finally working once again. Now that he's so close, you know exactly where you've seen such odd eyes before. The statue in the woods.

"Ahh, there it is," he giggles. A hand comes up and grips your chin between his thumb and index. He shakes your head from side to side while pouting at you derisively. "Figure it out?"

"What—how?"

"Hmm, maybe not," he chuckles. He taps a finger into your temple slowly, but the gentle touch feels far more frightening to you, as if it's the calm right before the raging storm. "And here I thought you were a smart girl." His voice has morphed once again, two voices bleeding into one. You hear Dipper's voice being overtaken by that discordant tone that he laughed at you with. His eyes drag down your body then, a darkness seeming to seep into those unsettling ellipse pupils. "It's always odd to look through two eyes. Everything seems so much more...third dimensional. Much more graphic. For instance," his hand cups your throat, the touch so gentle and soft, but there was an obvious threat there, "if I squeeze, I'd be able to see your skin turn red and maybe even blue if I cut off your air for long enough." He absently chuckles, as if lost in the image of what he's imagining. He leans in closer, running his nose along your jaw. "I'd be able to see your veins popping out. Maybe I'd feel your windpipe crushing too." His eyes drift up to yours, as if only now remembering that you're there. He offers a smile that could possibly resemble something sweet, but it only turned your stomach. "Don't worry, Sunshine," he whispers, gently pecking your cheek, "that's not what I want."

"What do you want then?" you ask, your voice surprisingly harsh despite how your insides knot up and your throat feels as if it's closing up.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he pulls his gaze away from your temptingly delicate throat.

"Just saying hi to an old friend," he answers, releasing his hold on your neck and placing his hands on either side of your head. As he leans into you it's as if you're witnessing a real-life glitch as the man in front of you shifts from Dipper to a lanky, tan blonde. Wild locks peek out from a tiny top hat atop his head and sweep over his bangs that cover one of his eyes. He'd look like a normal person if he weren't wearing such a predatory grin that reminds you more of a monster instead of a man, the ethereal yellow glow that radiates off his skin, or the cracks at the edges of his face with a galaxy peeking through the unnatural jagged breaks of flesh. But just as quickly as the image of the new man appeared, it was replaced by Dipper once again. He wiggles his fingers in a small wave. "Isn't that right, Pine Tree?" He stares into your eyes but it's as if he's looking through you, instead. He's not talking to you.

Suddenly, his fingers clamp over the nape of your neck, the painful pressure causing your muscles to tense and you're at his mercy. He uses this to throw you towards the dusty couch along the wall. Now that you're out of his immediate vicinity you try to get up and run but he moves like lightning and he's over you in an instant.

"Sorry, Sunshine," he says as he swings a leg over yours, locking your body in place as it's trapped between his thighs. The image of his body continuously glitches from Dipper to the person you saw before. Your arms thrash as you squirm and kick and try to get away, but he pays no mind to your struggle, capturing your wrists easily in his grasp. His fingers dig into your skin as he grips your jaw painfully. "It's nothing personal. Well, not towards you, at least." He laughs as if he said something so funny, an inside joke only for him. "Actually, I should be thanking you. You freed me, your pretty little mind is going to be my new home. And in light of that, I think you deserve a little treat, huh?" Despite your struggle, the man easily held you down with a hand wrapped around your wrists. His other hand smooths down your sides, goosebumps raising in the wake of his touch. His fingers dig into your cheeks as he presses an open-mouthed kiss against your lips, his tongue slipping in and scavenging your mouth. And the taste of his tongue rubbing against yours is…intoxicating.

It’s like the sweetest of ambrosia seeping into your tastebuds. You feel like you should be fighting more, struggling harder against the man's advances. You feel the way your veins fill with ice at the realization of what he is planning to do. But your mind feels foggy, your movements sluggish and out of your control; the same way you felt while walking in the woods. Your mind is only consumed by the taste of his lips and how it fills your every being. You need more. Your skin feels hot, burning but in the best ways possible. The feeling slowly begins to thaw the ice in your bloodstream as his touch lights your nerves. You vaguely hear the light chuckle in his voice as your lids flutter halfway and you focus on the featherlike trail his fingertips left over your skin.

You open your mouth, but no words leave your lips, and that shrill laugh rings out again.

"See?" he coos, a mixture of Dipper and the other high-pitched voice resonating through the small room. "So easy." His hand releases your wrists, but your limbs stay in place, unmoving even with their newfound freedom. His thumbs knead into your sides as they slip underneath your shirt, slowly rolling the fabric up your body. "Bet Pinetree is squirming in his seat right now. Better give him a show, huh, Sunshine?" Despite every alarm bell in the back of your mind going off, you find yourself agreeing with the strange entity, knowing nothing but the need for more, more, more. His lips curl up into a sinister smirk as he watches the confusion etch into your brows but you do nothing to stop him.

His shirt is ripped over his head in an instant, displaying Dipper’s pale skin and the curly brown hair of his happy trail before his image shift into a mirage of the other man. Golden brick-like tattoo lines and crack of glowing galaxies along his body mar the perfectly tan skin of the unfamiliar man. And the glitches stop, you notice. He is no longer Dipper. He is only the fabricated personified image of the statue in the woods.

Dark fingers that look like they were dipped in ink and absorbed up to his elbows drag over your frame, cutting away each scrap of clothing covering your body. They fall away so smoothly, as if they were merely delicate drapes just waiting for a breeze to brush them away in a gentle sigh. You want to move your hands and cover yourself, but you can’t bring your limbs to listen. They belong to him now. All of you belongs to him now. And the smirk on his face tells you he knows that.

"Wish I had a real body to truly enjoy this, y'know?" He murmurs, gaze hungrily roving over you. He unhurriedly brings himself to lay on the couch chest down between your legs, the dark tendrils of his hands curling below your hips as his head nuzzles into the side of one of your plush thighs. His hair is soft, you notice. Softer than any earthly object. And you are choosing to focus all of your attention on that fact rather than the hungrily look he gives you. "But taste is more of a mental construct, isn’t it? I don’t need a real tongue to thoroughly enjoy a meal." It’s the only warning you receive before a devilish tongue is ravishing your inner walls. Despite his initial nonchalance, he moves quickly to pick you apart with only one muscle. Your eyes flutter shut at the pleasure but just as quickly, a fist closes around your throat and your eyelids fly open once again. "Eyes on me." And you listen, keeping your eyes on the golden iris trained in you as your jaw drops open in a silent scream while he brings you to completion under his skilled tongue. You don’t make a sound until his hand claps down in your thigh, signaling the need for an audible response to your climax. You oblige, letting a high-pitched moan escape your lips. He looks satisfied enough as he comes off of you with a wolffish grin.

You keep your eyes trained on him as he leans over you once again, as if you are incapable of closing them again. You’re not entirely sure if that inability is because of your own will or because of his command. Either way, you watch as the man hovers over you, causing you to jerk when his cock surprisingly taps your sensitive entrance. You look down then, watching the angry red, mushroom head sliding between your folds. Your body seems conflicted, trying both to get away from the friction and seeking to catch the bulbous tip on your weeping opening. You realize that he’s teasing you, however. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that he won’t do anything until you beg for it. He wants you to beg for it.

You listen to his sinister chuckle, the maddening sound bouncing inside your head…or are you both already inside your head…?

"Oh, you figured it out, Sunshine!" He chuckles in that echoing voice of his. "Now you know what I want, so do it." Your mouth opens without your permission but no words escape. "Oh, c’mon, Sunshine. I know you want it too…just give in."

"Please," the word is barely audible as it escapes your lips, but he hears it, perking up at the sound.

"Please what?"

"Please…please fuck me!" You can’t keep the whine out of your voice as you finally plead for what this has all been building up to. You don’t know this man—Creature? Ethereal being?—or what kind of spell he put on you. All you know is that you need it. Everything will be better once you feel his cock pummeling in and out of you. And that’s exactly what he does, plunging into you the second the last syllable leaves your lips.

The stretch is painful and you aren’t sure if the scream you release is because of the pain of his dick tearing through you or the pleasurable drag you feel on your inner walls. It’s like you want to scream, cry, push him out, but you can’t. You can only take it, take it, take it, just as he orders you to while he snaps his hips into you. You realize that you are crying, but again, you have no idea if the tears are from the wonderful stimulation or the searing shame of this moment. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if Dipper knows. You ask yourself what he thinks of you in this moment and if you even care when you’re being speared on a fat cock.

Again that demented laughter rings in your ears, reminding you of the demon you’ve officially sold your soul to that’s treating your body like his personal property. Maybe that’s his now too, along with your sanity. You can’t seem to say much besides moans and whines and pleas for something you’re not sure you want.

"Oh, I really wish you could see her face right now, Pinetree," he giggles, as if talking to himself. "You’d fucking love it. I know I do." He chuckles then, like he made an inside joke before his hand curls around your throat and makes sure your eyes are on him solely. And he speaks but not to you, to something he’s looking at through you. "But I really wish I could see your face right now. You getting off on this, Little Dipper? I bet you are. Freaks like you and me, we gotta enjoy these little moments when we get them." His grip tightens on your throat then and the panic sets in again. Whatever it was that lulled you into a false state of complacency is gone. You feel the oxygen struggling to fill your lungs as his hips snap faster in and out of you, his lanky fingers bullying your button as you’re starting to swim in asphyxiation.

There’s a twinkle in his eye that was never there before as he watches you struggle. You realize that his sadistic demon is getting off more on torturing you than he has this entire time. The smile that spreads across his face is one you know will haunt your very being. And you hate yourself as his digits circling your clit brings you to release just as your vision blackens at the edges. You barely register the warmth flooding your insides as you’re finally allowed to close your eyes.

You wake again with a start, your body shooting up in the chair again, the odd helmet once again gracing your crown. Your eyes land on Dipper whose back is turned to you and you wander if the nightmare is only restarting again. But when he turns around, you see the dark dusting of color on his cheeks and know that this isn’t the demon you just dealt with. But if the boner in his jeans is anything to go by, you do know that he watched the whole thing.

Dipper clears his throat, awkwardly shifting as he faces you, his hands fruitlessly hovering over his crotch and his eyes refusing to meet yours. "Umm," he squeaks. "I think we need to talk."

If you enjoyed, please let me know!

Goal for part 2 is set up on my Ko-fi ☕️! Thank you! ☺️🫶🏻

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Marvel Masterlist

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Bibliophile Brew Vol. III

Summary: When managing your parent's book cafe while they're away, you meet Wonder Duo Dynamight and Deku.

Warnings: NSFW. Minors DNI. Fluff, aged-up characters, language, smut, lots of smut, this is just pure smut, threesome(mmf), fingering, oral (f and m receiving), petnames (darling, babygirl, bunny, princess, sweetheart, slut), slight praise, slight degradation, spit-roasting, face fucking, throat bulge, stomach bulge, panty stealing, overstimulation, slight choking, cockwarming. Lmk if I forgot anything! And please enjoy!

Word Count: 3.9k

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A part of you felt bad for throwing away all of the thought and effort it took the boys to get such a last-minute reservation to an elite venue such as Nonpareil…but you can’t currently bring yourself to care as you have the number two hero sticking his tongue down your throat while the number one hero works at your dress’ zipper in the back of their chauffeured car. Yeah…life seems pretty good right now, especially as you feel the peppering of kisses down your neck and a thick hand sliding between your legs, the scarred palm smoothing over the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your clothed sex. It causes you to shiver and the blonde nipping at your kiss-swollen lips chuckles at the feeling of your trembling body pressed between his and Pro hero Deku’s.

"How-how private is this backseat?" you ask softly, nodding towards the partition as you strain to hold yourself back.

"Soundproof," is the simple answer Izuku gives, but it's enough for you to give an understanding nod before you finally release the deep whine you've been holding onto for so long once Katsuki's lips find that sweet spot behind your ear.

"Mmm, we’ve barely touched you and you’re already such a mess?" He snickers. "We better be careful with her, Izuku." You can’t help the pout that takes over your bottom lip or the crease that dents your brow.

"No, you don’t," you protest, and it’s the most eloquent sentence you’ve managed the entire car ride. The way Katsuki’s brows shoot up makes you feel a bit indignant then. You feel the vibration of a laugh against your skin more than you actually hear it as Izuku brushes his lips up your neck.

"No?" Izuku asks as he presses a wet peck behind your ear, his teeth grazing the cartilage teasingly. "Think you can keep up, princess?"

"Isn’t it unwise to underestimate others?" Bakugo barks out a laugh at that as Midoriya groans behind you.

"Yeah, Deku, you should know better," he snorts. You feel a bit smug until you feel that idle digit on your thigh brought to life, kissing the edge of your panties. Now, you aren’t feeling so superior. But you still refuse to back down from the challenge as determination has been lit in your core, along with something else as those dangerous fingers skim past the fabric barrier. Reaching your smaller hand down, you grasp his wrist, guiding him closer to your waiting pussy.

"Trust me," Izuku groans in your ear as you put on a show for the two men by arching your back into the greenette behind you and making sure to look into carmine eyes with a sultry half-lidded stare. "I won’t be making the same mistake again."

"Be sure you don't," you say as your fingers thread through blonde spikes, tugging the hero into a messy kiss. A pair of scarred hands pry your thighs apart, the cold air tickling your wet entrance. You let out a muffled moan the moment his digit circles your bundle of nerves. It isn't long before Katsuki drags your panties down your legs, his hand soon joining Izuku's in stroking his fingertips through your weeping slit, teasing your entrance. Your grip tightens in the golden locks, tugging Katsuki away for a moment as you crawl onto his lap, your hips coming down to slightly grind your bare cunt on his clothed hardness. A strong pair of hands glide over your ass, squeezing the globes before Katsuki rolls your skirt up further past your hips. Your hand cups the greenette's neck and guides him to your lips as Katsuki's palms skim your freshly uncovered skin. A jagged hand cups your jaw, a surprising juxtaposition to the sloppy kisses you had been sharing before. He coaxes your lips apart, but he doesn't stray far from you, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

"You want this?" he breathes over your lips, the whisper dancing over your skin and down your spine. Your fingertips graze his jaw, gently cupping his face and making sure his eyes are on yours.

"Yes," you sigh. "I want this." You place a soft peck against his pillowy lips before doing the same to Katsuki's. "I want both of you." And it's all the confirmation needed as Izuku dives into your mouth again, Katuski's lips trail down your throat, over your collarbones, and over your shoulder as he pulls down the sleeve of your dress. The car comes to a stop too soon in front of a house, its privacy preserved by a gate and its distance from any other building. The moment the car comes to a full stop, Izuku wastes no time in opening the door and jumping out. He turns back to you, offering a gentlemanly hand to you. Your eyes look nervously at the partition again, you turn in the seat and look up at Katsuki with a sheepish expression.

"Umm, my panties?" you ask. Katsuki chuckles, reaching down and picking up the flimsy fabric from the floor. He dangles them in front of you before enclosing them in his fist as you try to snatch them up. He smirks at you and your pretty pout, leans in, and presses a barely-there kiss to your cheek.

"Mine now, babygirl," he murmurs against your skin. His palm smooths down your skirt over your thighs. "But why getting so shy on us again? Fucking loved that confidence in you before, princess. We're yours now. Use us. Let us spoil the fuck outta ya. No need to be shy." The softness of his tone betrays the suddenness of his next actions as he scoops you up and passes you over to Izuku who is quick to throw you over his shoulder.

You squeal out a giggle as he does so, your laughter infectious as he joins in. Bakugo chuckles as he follows the both of you at a more leisurely pace, twirling your abandoned panties around on his index. Izuku fumbles a bit with the keys but afterward, it doesn’t take him long to kick open his front door, making a mad dash toward the master bedroom. The moment you enter the room you’re dropped onto the heavenly mattress, staring up at the walking sex symbol you previously viewed as a wholesome green bean. But nothing about the way he looks at you in this moment says wholesome. His crooked hands make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, welcoming you to the view of his exposed scarred skin. Your eyes follow the movement, visually tracing his hands down as they travels towards his belt. He takes this moment to slow down, and you can’t for the love of All Might figure out why that is. You only assume it’s to torture you. Because it truly is torture to watch the man unhurriedly unbuckle the strap of leather locking you out of such a magnificent view. It's almost like time is in slow motion, and you let your impatience be known with a whine that bubbles from your throat. And he meanly laughs at you. His hands leave the work on his belt and you pout at that. His hand instead comes up to cup your chin, drawing your eyes back to his. He leans in and nibbles at your protruding bottom lip until you can't help but giggle. He gently kisses you, his other hand taking yours and guiding it to the half-undone belt. His grip doesn't leave you, however, only holding your hand in place.

He pulls away only a breath apart, looking into your eyes, whispering, "We can take our time, darling." His voice is husky, dripping in utter sex appeal and falling over you like silk. "We have all night. But don't worry, me and Kacchan will take good care of you, sweetness." The promise makes your digits twitch in his hold, your fingertips pressing into the smooth metal of the belt buckle. You barely offer a nod before Izuku straightens his back, offering to let you finish what he started. Your gaze falls onto the accessory in front of your face before looking up at him through your lashes once again. You sit up more, tangling your hands in the curls at the back of his neck and drawing him back into a slow kiss. His huge, jagged hands come up and cup your cheeks, pillowy lips moving languidly against your own. Izuku is right, the three of you have all the time in the world.

Your lips barely leave his skin as you make your way across his cheek, down his neck, trailing over the raised, white skin of the scars on his shoulders, chest, abs, until you make it to that protruding V-line. Your hands languidly unloop the final fastening of the belt. The sound of the accessory falling to the ground rings in your ears and the gentle zip of you opening his pants plants goosebumps over your flesh. You're finding it increasingly harder to believe that this is really happening. The sudden introduction of another warm body tilting the mattress behind you doesn't help convince you that this situation isn't just a fantasy. However, the sensation of quirk-heated hands gripping your hips from behind and the feeling of hot kisses being pressed into your neck is very persuasive.

Your chest heaves as those kisses move up your skin and your hands finally pull away the restricting fabric of Izuku's pants and—oh. No underwear. You glance at Izuku only to find a Bakugo-esque smirk gracing his features. For some reason, that wolfish expression makes your cheeks heat up more than the recent wardrobe discovery. You feel like you're being teased with the look alone.

Speaking of teasing, those hot hands resting on your hips spread out to your thighs, softly scraping back up your skin and hooking his fingers beneath the hem of your dress. He slowly extracts the fabric from your frame, his palms dragging over every inch of you in doing so. The clothing is pulled over your head leaving you in your pretty underwear in front of the two men. You hear them both take in a breath, both still as their eyes traverse over your newly bare body. a flat palm smoothes over your stomach and between the valley of your breasts before gently grasping your throat, pulling you back against the blonde's hard body. His lips are more urgent now, fervently pressing wet, open-mouth smooches into your skin while his other hand coaxs your thighs apart. Simultaneously, Izuku sinks into the mattress, resting on his stomach as your knee part before him. He leaves little nips and pecks along your smooth legs, creating a cacophony of new sensations as he works in tandem with Katsuki’s wandering digits.

When Katsuki steadily rolls his hips into you from behind, Izuku drags your legs over his shoulders. When Katsuki’s grip tightens his hold on your throat, Izuku tugs your panties from your soaking heat, exposing you to the cool air and sending a shiver down your spine. When Katsuki thumbs over your perky nipples through the lacy fabric of your lingerie, Izuku’s fingertips kiss your sensitive clit. It’s one sensation after the other, giving you no reprieve in the onslaught of new stimulations. And they’re so slow in their movements, each caress, each kiss, each whisper of touch torture to your ready and waiting body. You rest your head back against the blonde hero's shoulder your eyes fluttering close and a gasp escaping your lips at the first swipe of Izuku's tongue over your slit.

"He's so good with his tongue, right?" You absently nod before your spine arches at the swirl of his tongue against your entrance. "So sensitive," Katsuki chuckles, his other hand leaving your throat to unclasp your bra. He cups both of your breasts, rolling your nipples harshly and eliciting a whine from you. "How long has it been since someone last touched you, darling?"

"Umm..."

You could feel the rumble of laughter between your legs, the vibrations causing you to whimper and your legs to shake. "If you have to think about it, it's been too long, bunny," Izuku says softly, immediately going back to making a meal out of your pussy. Your fingers tangle into those wild green curls and twist into the loose fabric of the open button-up still hanging over his shoulders.

"Don't worry, we'll take really good care of you," the blonde hero utters against your ear, his hips rutting up into your backside. You can feel the shape of his dick trapped in the confines of his pants. You wonder for a moment if he went commando for tonight too. Your fingers reluctantly unfurl from the greenette's shirt to reach behind yourself and find out. You can't help the tinge of disappointment you feel once you slip your hand into the front of his trousers to find that yes, he did put on boxers. Your dismay must show on your face because his pleased groan is interrupted by mild laughter and he turns your face towards his to nip at your pouted bottom lip. The two of you pant and moan against one another as you then sneak your hand behind your back and beneath his briefs, wrapping your shaking digits around his girth. You take note of the fact that your fingertips don't touch as you glide your palm over his hardness. "Fuck, such a good girl," he groans.

The next moment you're lying on your back. Izuku keeps eating you out like a man starved while Katsuki stands to strip—finally. Your view is upside down as you crane your head back to watch the man peel his shirt off and you nearly drool while he rolls his bottoms down his thick thighs, his dick springing out and popping his abdomen before bobbing in front of your overturned face. He gives himself a few languid strokes before lining up with your kiss-swollen lips. His ruddy cockhead spreads his precum over your mouth. "Ready, babygirl?"

You emphatically nod, parting your lips and sticking out your tongue presenting for him. It's all the confirmation he needs as he slips into your warm, wet cavern. Your lips stretch around him as he slowly feeds every inch of his cock to you. You take a deep breath in through your nose and try to relax your jaw. "Fuck," he groans, taking a lengthy inhale through his nostrils. "Such a good slut. Your mouth feels fucking amazing, sweetheart." You twitch harshly when Izuku laughs against your sopping heat before pulling away and easing two digits into you, resting his chin on his hand while looking up at the two of you.

"She must be the perfect little slut for us," Izuku addresses Katsuki but pinches your clit and adds another finger in acknowledgment. "You're never so quick to praise, Kacchan."

"F-Fuck you," the blonde bites back, voice shaking and muscles spasming over you as your cheeks hollow while sucking the life out of him, your tongue moving over the hardness in your mouth. "Fuuuck yes, darling. Fucking perfect. Shit, Deku, she is fucking—ahh—fucking perfect."

"That right?" The greenette teasingly asks. He pulls himself up on his knees, scissors his fingers before pulling them out, and lines himself up with your entrance. "Let's see how this pussy feels then, yeah? Sound good, bunny?" In lieu of a verbal answer, you desperately grip his forearm, tugging him toward you. He leans over you, gripping your waist as he gradually presses into you. Your back bows the moment he pops past the initial resistance. He runs his thumb sweetly over your side, holding still to let you adjust. With the thick cock in your mouth you can't tell Izuku what you need and instead gently drag your nails along his inner forearm, silently begging him to move. He got the message, pulling his hips back slowly before snapping them into you once again. The motion pushes you up the bed, forcing you to take in more of Katsuki and sputter a bit. But it also offers a new discovery. Bakugo practically salivates at the image of his cock bulging in your throat. He thrusts his hips experimentally, watching the bulge move along with him. His hand comes up to cup your throat, gently pushing down to feel his dick through the layers of muscle and flesh that separate him. "Fuck."

Izuku notices too, a rakish grin taking up his features and his hips pistoning faster in and out of your body just to watch the way you bob on their cocks from his force alone. A strong, scarred arm curls around your waist, lifting your lower half and bending your back. At this angle, Izuku can feel his own cock when he presses his palm into your lower abdomen. He lets out a huff of amusement, experimentally pushing himself in further just to feel his cockhead poking his palm through your stomach. The new angle and the pressure on your lower belly tickle a new spot inside you that makes your toes curl and your eyes squeeze shut. your nails dig slightly into Izuku's arms, leaving trails of raised, red lines of scratch marks on his skin. Katsuki's grip on your throat tightens just a bit more as he pistons his cock into your throat, the lack of air that comes from this being exactly what you need to finally push you over the edge and you gush around the thick girth. Your throat trembles with the moan that ripples through you, the vibrations pull Katsuki into that high along with you, filling your tummy with his hot release. He heaves above you before slowly pulling out his softening cock from your throat. Your jaw aches as he frees himself from your mouth. In doing so, he releases your previously contained moans and you let out a long, loud stream of pleasured sounds as Izuku keeps pounding into you. A breathless chuckle escapes his lips and his rough fingers come up to gently caress your sore jaw. He descends and softly presses an upside kiss into your lips before peppering your face with them. You're surprised that a giggle manages to break through your whines and whimpers as he does so.

"Kacchan," Izuku huffs, his hips still jackhammering into yours. "Fuck, Kacchan, she feels so good. You—ngh—you need to feel how tight she is. Ahh~"

"Next time," Katsuki answers dazedly, delicately running a thumb over your cheekbone and offering you an adoring glance. Hmm, next time. You smile softly at that.

You feel the buzz of electricity in the room. Looking down towards Izuku, you notice the sparks of green tendrils dancing over his limbs and torso as he loses himself to the feeling of plunging in and out of your tight, wet heat. Katsuki's hand sneaks down and circles over your clit, bringing you to another release along with Izuku. The greenetteleans over you, gripping onto Katuski's forearm and holding himself up on his elbow. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck, nipping and pecking your throat. You feel those coils of energy tickle against your skin as well.

"Such a good girl, bunny," Izuku groans against your skin. "Good fucking girl." If it were even possible, he snaps his hips faster. You both are right there at the edge...almost—Katsuki's fingers tangle into green curls and an open, panting mouth is pushed sloppily into yours, a forced, makeshift kiss, as it were. The blonde's digits circling your clit pinch your bundle of nerves and everything comes crashing down. You see white as you arch into the hard body pressed into you, feeling how Izuku's hips grind into yours as you're filled up.

Everything goes still. The only sound that echoes in the room is wet panting, though you're sure the heroes can hear the way your heartbeat drums against your ribcage. After a few minutes of rest, Izuku leans up, his emerald eyes searching you.

"You okay?" His voice sounds so soft and concerned, a complete 180 from the cocky teasing voice he used before. Your throat still feels raw from the monster that had been penetrating it beforehand so you just nod, offering a reassuring smile. He gives you one of his own before pressing a sweet peck to your temple. You both hiss as Izuku slowly pulls himself from your entrance, a gush of your mixed release pooling from you. Strong hands grasp underneath your arms before pulling you up into a firm chest. The blonde cradles you to him as the greenette makes a beeline to the bathroom, returning shortly with a couple of washcloths. He offers one to Katsuki who wipes your drool and cum coated chin before cleaning off his half-hard member. Izuku swipes the warm, damp cloth between your legs, causing your thighs to shake and you to whine at the oversensitivity. Katsuki chuckles, tucking you closer into his side as Izuku walks out of the room again. Thick, callused fingers grip your chin and then you're drowsily staring up into a set of vermillion irises.

"Words this time, sweetheart," he gruffs. "Are you okay?"

"Ye—" you croak out, voice cracking with the strain. Clearing your throat you try again, uttering a simple, soft, "Yes." He smirks at the obvious damage he's caused, a sense of pride overpowering the sheepish guilt that should be filling him. He presses a sweet peck to your temple, scratching his blunt nails soothingly over your scalp and through your tangled, sweaty hair. Izuku is quick to come back with a few water bottles, a bowl of fruit, and a bag of Mighty's potato chips.

The rest of the night is spent being hand-fed snacks while getting to know the two heroes better—naked of course. Eventually, your eyes water with exhaustion and your yawns get in the way of conversation. You fall asleep on the blonde's scarred chest...being speared on his cock to warm him through the night.

You wake up in the same position, nuzzling into the warm chest beneath your cheek. You blink your blurry eyes and look at the greenette tucked into the blonde's side, one scarred hand curled around Katsuki's bicep and the other lazily draped across your lower back. You slowly try to stretch out your sore muscles without waking the two, though you're sure that the inflating cock in your cunt will mean that they'll be awake soon anyway. You turn your head the other way to at least crack your neck and notice someone has plugged up your phone on the nightstand. Aww. You reach over and grab it because at least you can go through it while letting the boys get their sleep. Only, when you turn your cell on, you're bombarded with a horde of message notifications, most of them seeming to be a link. You click on the messages that Sukki sent, a cacophony of 'Are you okay?' 'Have you seen this?!' 'Where are you??' and so on. You click the link to be assaulted by the headline "Two For One? Mystery Girl Spotted With Dynamight and Deku" along with the image of Izuku carrying you over his shoulder, a carefree grin etched into his features, Katsuki twirling your panties on his finger, and you, smiling widely without an ounce of awareness to the camera capturing this perfectly damning image.

"What the fu—"

AN: Okay guys, I have an important question for you. Do we like this open ending or do you want more trio shenanigans? Please let me know!

100 likes, 25 reblogs, and 10 comments asking for a part 4!

If you enjoyed, please consider helping me buy a coffee ☺️☕️ Thank you!

Next >

Polaroids

Pairings: dom!Steddie x fem!reader

Drabble

Warnings: NSFW. Smut, pet names, cockdrunk!reader? (Idk reader is just exhausted from fun times), photographed porn, threesome, slight humiliation kink (squint). 18+ Only! Minors DNI!

“Yeah, just hold her like that,” Eddie purred as he directed Steve in holding your legs out. Steve chuckled breathlessly, his chest causing you to rise and fall as his heavy breaths moved your body against his. Holding the back of your knees, he spread your legs for the camera. Eddie took a few shots of your combined cum leaking out of your swollen, abused pussy. He brought his hand up to grip one of your flushed tits, fingertips and rings indenting into your skin. Steve brought a hand from the plump flesh of your thigh to cup your chin, tilting your dazed expression up for Eddie to capture. Once that image was printing onto a Polaroid, Steve turned your face to capture your lips, taking your kiss swollen mouth between his teeth, allowing Eddie to get the perfect snapshot of Steve pulling your bottom lip and watching it pop back in place. Hands kept moving against your clammy, shaking body, your mind still foggy.

“Such a pretty girl,” Eddie hummed, waving the picture as he crawled over you, presenting the newly developed photo for you to view. It was a nice image of Eddie’s ringed fingers snaking up your collarbone, the imprint of his palm against your chest, your body melting against Steve’s as his grip squished your cheeks and his teeth sunk into your skin. “I should put this in my locker at school.” Your eyes went wide, brows drawing together in concern. Your head felt too heavy, your throat too thick to speak up your protest.

“No?” Steve teased, taking your stunned silence as your answer. “Is that too embarrassing for you, baby bunny? Afraid someone will see it?” His fingers wiggle in your side, sending your body spasming from the ticklish sensation while a groan falls from his lips as your ass rubbed against his sensitive member.

“Hmm,” Eddie chuckled, enjoying the scene before him. Sitting up on his knees, he lazily strokes his reddened tip, bringing his length closer to your blushing face. “Maybe a few pics of you working my cock with your sweet little mouth will change my mind.”

Eddie Munson - Master List

Wow! I had no idea this was going to happen! Thank you for all the love on my Eddie story!

Blossoming of a Shy Violet

- Reader…the new girl at Hawkins meets Eddie Munson…and her life will never be the same.

Story contains…fluff…angst..smut…possible violence…so please 18+ and the reader is fem!

If you would like to be tagged…please let me know!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

Part Twenty

Part Twenty - One

Part Twenty - Two

Part Twenty - Three

“so hard to ignore ya’ [‘specially when im smoking, swim]”

title & slight inspiration from swim, by chase atlantic. a very nasty lil threeway i’ve reworked to fit new characters, enjoy ✨ taglist; @lady-bakuhoe @katsukisprincess @burnedbyshoto @redbeanteax @theleaningtowerofpizazz @mothwithteeth @bakugou-katsukisgf @lordexplosionsextra @deadassqueeraf 

[pairing; katsuki bakugou x fem!reader x eijiro kirishima]

[warnings; mentions of drugs & alcohol, rough sex, threesome, degrading language, shotgunning, semi-public sex, car sex, everyone is sober enough to consent]

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

you’ve always been a handful.

insatiable, unstoppable, over energetic with a refractory period so short it almost hurt & a smile that made everyone weak in the knees.

a handful.

Keep reading

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¡ i will add as needed !

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Bestfriends| MHA X BlackFemReader

Hi Besties ! I was in a writing mood but, I didn't feel like messing with my current WIP because ✨procrastination✨, so here are some cute, maybe NSFW headcannons/scenarios about the boys reacting to their bestfriend(who they have a crush on) being at their place when they get home from a stressful day! This is literally my fingers moving faster than my brain, so bare with me if it's awful lol.

Warning NSFW (18+) Content| Viewer Discretion Advised

oral sex

fingering

foul language

mentions of blood

penetration (?) - idk, haven't written it yet.

Aged up/ ProHero characters

ProHero! Deku

You met when you transferred into the support course during your second year, he was always coming in to discuss changes in his costume design and the two of you just clicked. It went from casual greetings in the hallways to movie marathons on the weekends.

Whenever he'd go on school missions you'd hug him so tight, lecturing him to be careful. "I'll be fine, (n/n)" he'd blush, but he'd nuzzle against your neck before saying his final goodbyes.

Your protectiveness continued well into adulthood, when he was a full fledged Pro Hero. Always hovering and fussing over him, threatening to jump in if he was ever in trouble. He never complained about you babying him, though. He loved that you cared.

People found your dynamic hilarious, this big ole' man being lead around by little old you. Hanging on to your every word like a puppy. He was enamored with you, but for the sake of your friendship he never mentioned it.

Izuku was dead tired, the day had been brutal. He'd fought several villains, ended up in a hostage situation and fell off a roof. Blood and grit clung to his skin and hero costume. He was desperate to get to his hot shower and warm bed.

Walking through the door, he heard a random R&B song playing over the stereo and smelled fresh baked cookies. That could only mean one thing. She's home, he thought, smiling to himself as he made his way into the living room. Izuku had given you a spare key for emergency's but you honestly you used it whenever you were feeling bored. He didn't mind, he loved seeing you when he made it home.

"(Y/N). I'm home." he called out, kicking his shoes of near the couch. He started to worry when you didn't respond immediately but relaxed when he heard running water. Izuku trudged down the hallway, rolling his neck and stretching his sore muscles along the way. "Puppy. It's me." he knocked twice and cracked the door open, smiling when your bonnet covered head peaked through the frosted glass door.

"Oh my god, Izu! What the hell happened?" He chuckled to himself, not even five minutes into the house and he found himself on the receiving end of one of your lectures. "I had a rough day. Fucking tired." he groaned and you flinched at his words. Izuku rarely cursed, so he must be feeling pretty bad. "You almost done? I'm gross." he peeled off his hero costume, too exhausted to feel bashful. It's not like you've never seen him in his underwear before, you're his bestfriend.

"Friend" he mumbled, rolling his eyes. On days like this it was hard for him to hide his true feelings. All he wanted was to pull you into his arms and kiss the stress away. "I just got in but, I'll get out- "No, no. I'm gonna get in with you."

Before you could protest his was sliding the door open and pushing himself inside 🌚. "Izu!" you screeched, covering your breasts with your hands. It was counterproductive because it pushed them up nicely and gave him a nice view of your puffy cunt. Was she touching her self? he quirked a brow, but shook the thought off "I'm tired. I didn't want to wait anymore". That statement was pretty loaded considering the current situation and his feelings about your relationship. "Just this once, please" he pouted, handing you his sponge and body wash.

With a sigh, you took the items and began pampering your friend, being sure to nag him simultaneously. He couldn't care less, too caught up in the way your fingernails felt scratching his scalp or your soapy hands running across his skin. He didn't even realize you were crying until your voice broke.

"I know you can take care of yourself but, I still worry." you paused, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades and wrapping your arms around his torso. He hummed, rolling his head back and covering your hands with his own, it felt good being with you like this. Nothing could ruin this moment. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Izu. You're my bestfriend."

That did it.

In a flash he had you pinned against the shower wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. "Look at us right now, (Y/N). Is this what bestfriends feel like ?" You felt his tip slide through your folds, picking up the slick that had been accumulating since he'd first gotten in the shower. "i-Izu ?" you stammer, and he pulls back to watch your face as he teases your entrance. "I don't want to be friends anymore, puppy." Your mouth falls open when he starts to push in, splitting you open on his enormous ✨cock✨ and he takes this opportunity to pull you into a bruising kiss.

"We should be lovers instead."

ProHero! Red Riot

The two of you met in the drugstore one day when he was looking for hairdye. The store was out of his usual brand and he didn't know which one would be closest to Radiant Ruby. So he was staring at the boxes having an internal meltdown. Dark roots are not manly.

"Try Very Vermillion, the undertone is different but its the same shade. If you just touch up the roots you can barely tell the difference." Your soft voice caught his attention, and then your bright smile and similarly dyed hair. It was a deeper red than his and it went well with your (l/d) brown skin. "Thanks, cutie. I really appreciate it." he pulled down his shades and winked, enough to make most ladies swoon but you just smirked back. "No problem, Mr. Riot."

"How'd ya know it was me?" he asked, following you down the aisle. He was shocked, it seemed like a pretty good disguise when he left in the morning. "Kinda had to mistake a killer smile like that" you winked, and the blush that grew on his cheeks was enough to put Radiant Ruby out of business for good. "Can I get your name?" he asked, red eyes never leaving your figure as you checked out. He thought he was being stealthy but you noticed. "(Y/N). How about you get me lunch too?"

Henceforth, you were inseparable.

"Yo, Ei. Where's your twin?" Katsuki teased, referencing your similar hair color and the fact that you were always wearing his merch. He called you his "mini me", which is true since he's a freaking giant. "I'm on my way to her place now!" he beamed, "she promised to make me some American food!" He loved when you cooked for him. One of his favorite pass times was watching you move around the kitchen, whipping up different dishes for him to try. "Tch, you two idiots should just make it official already." Katsuki huffed, nudging his friend who was smiling at his phone. Probably because you'd sent him an "adorable" photo wearing some new merch you picked up. "Nah, she's way too good for me." he'd smile sadly, stuffing his phone, and his feelings, in his back pocket.

You were putting the brownies in the oven when you heard the front door open. "I'm in the kitchen, Red !" you called, eager to see his expression when he saw the spread that you'd prepared for him.

Pro Hero! Red Riot had won a major victory today after an intense battle with some huge villain downtown. It was all over the news. He smiled and waved at the cameras, because it was the manly thing to do, but you could see that he was wore out. You wanted to do something special, so you prepared all his favorite foods. Fried chicken, Cajun steak alfredo, meat buns, and brownies for dessert. The man could eat.

"Hey pebble. What are you- wow ! What's all this ?" he smiled brightly as he entered the kitchen, tossing his mask on the counter and reaching for a piece of chicken. "Aht Aht!" you smacked his hand with a wooden spoon, "wash your hands first. You're filthy". He pouted but complied.

"What's the special occasion?" he asked, watching you fix him a heaping plate of food.

"I saw your fight on the news. You did so good, big guy!" You pinched his flushed cheeks and gave a knowing smirk. Eijiro may seem overly confident but he's actually pretty insecure sometimes; you're constantly reassuring him, being sure to remind him how great he is and how lucky you are to have him. It was fun for you because you liked how giddy he'd get after a few compliments. His praise kink goes crazy.

"(Y/N)- , stopp" he whined, but made no real effort to escape your grasp. "Why would I? You're the best, Riot. So big, and strong and manly." His cheeks were super red now and chewing on his lip.

Loose strands of hair fell into his eyes and you brushed them behind his ear . "(Y/N)" he whispered, you were so close and your words had his heart racing. "So brave. So kind." The game you were playing faded away as you gazed up at him. "So pretty." Your fingers traced the lines of his face, his cheeks, his nose, his lips. "You're so pretty, Red."

His resolve snapped. Trapping you between his arms, he bent down and pressed your lips together. An explorative action, kind of testing the waters. He pulled back and rubbed his nose against yours.

"I think you're pretty too."

One thing led to another and now you're sprawled out on the kitchen counter while his thick tongue swirls around your swollen clit with two fingers in your cunt and his thumb in your asshole. When your pussy contracts around your digits and you cum screaming his name, he licks the slick off his fingers and goes back down for seconds.

The man loves to eat.

ProHero! Mindbreak

The two of you met when he came into your new coffee shop in downtown Tokyo.

"Just a large black coffee, extra sweet, with a squirt of chocolate" he sighed, placing his card on the counter and rubbing his eyes. He looked miserable so you decided to cheer him up, or at least try to. "Wow, are you ordering a drink or me?" you giggled, a sickeningly sweet bubbly sound. It made him want to puke. "I don't think I could stomach both." he deadpanned. Ouch.

Too stunned to speak, you walked off and busied yourself with his order. "Nice going, Hitoshi. You hurt the airhead's feelings." he mumbled to himself, watching you pout and chew at your lip. He thought you were kind of cute. At least if you were into chunky little bimbos, which he definitely was.

"Sorry about that" he said as you handed him the cup, "hero stuff". "S'Okay!" You giggled again and leaned forward against the counter, flashing him a nice view of your tits. What a little ditz he thought, eyeing you as he took a sip. "Oh wow" he blinked, "this is the best coffee I've ever had". The smile that you gave him was so bright, he almost regretting telling you. It was way too early for this. "Great!" you chirp. sliding his card back to him. "It's on the house. A small thank you keeping the city safe, Mr. Hero."

Now he was too stunned to speak. He wasn't used to people being so nice to him; most folks were intimated by his quirk or his resting bitch face. It didn't bother you though. He mumbled a "thanks" and headed towards the door. "Come back and see us now." Hitoshi raised his cup and nodded, he'd definitely be returning.

He came in the same time everyday, ready to be met with the aroma of coffee and your smiling face. It got to the point that you had it waiting for him before he even made it to the counter. If it wasn't busy, you'd sit at a small table chat; well you'd do most of the talking. Hitoshi would just sip his drink quietly and listen to you ramble on about whatever ditzy thoughts were swirling in your cute little head.

"I don't that's what it means, sweetheart." He'd smirk whenever you misunderstood something. He loved the little face you'd make when you were confused. Your nose would scrunch up and the dimples in your chubby cheeks would pop out. "But 'Toshi, he specifically said 'those buns look delicious' don't you think they look good?" you pouted, pointing towards the freshly baked pastries. The perv was clearly talking about the way your round ass jiggled in that cute little mini skirt when you reached for something high on the shelf, but you didn't need to know that. "They look amazing, sweetheart. I'll take two."

Nothing particularly bad happened during Hitoshi's shift. He was just fucking exhausted. He'd been working the night shift for the past three weeks with no off day. You'd seen how worn out his was so you stopped by his house sometimes to make sure he was taken care off himself. You knew he kept a spare key above his doorframe, so you just let yourself in.

"Welcome home, Toshi !" you greeted him at the door wearing nothing but one of his muscle shirts. What in the actual fuck? "My clothes got wet when I was cleaning so I just grabbed one of your shirts while they dry. I hope you don't mind." Why would he mind when you were wearing the smallest shirt he owned and it fit your soft curves perfectly. You weren't even wearing a bra, round tits spilling out the sides whenever you moved your arms. And did you say you cleaned? He looked around and the place was spotless, hell you even fed his cat. Could you be anymore perfect?

"Thank you, sweetheart" He pulled you into a tight hug, pressing his body against yours and nuzzling against your neck. You always smelled so good. Like coffee and chocolate. "Thanks for what?" you giggled as you rubbed his back. "For everything" he mumbled and you scoffed, "I'd do anything for you, Toshi. It's no big deal." Hitoshi pulled back and looked down at you, "Anything?".

"Of course I would. I love you, silly."

"C'mere", Hitoshi picked you up and laid you on the couch, you were startled and confusion and you watched him curiously when he laid on top of you and pushed his face between your boobs. "I love you, too" he murmured, pulling the fabric to the side with his teeth and popping your nipple into his mouth.

"T-toshi!" you gasped, grinding up against him but he held your hips down. He flicked his tongue against the bud and pulled off with a *pop*, "You'd do anything for me, right?" One finger swirled around your nipple, while the other slid up your thigh and onto you clothed pussy. "Y-yes" you whimpered, taking a shaky breath when his finger snaked under your lacy panties and into your waiting cunt.

"Be mines."

Nastygirls| @xogabbiexo, @thicksimpx, @plussizeficchick, @namjoonswifeyy, @tenyaiidasslut, @po3ticb3auty, @kaizokuluv, @angwritez, @presidentmonica, @indiecursor, @arielspoem, @xosuki, @dejwrites @gabzlovesu

Joseph, Gaten and Joe Keery having the real life dynamic of Eddie, Dustin and Steve is my favorite thing lmao

And we love him for it 🥹

I mean, the good news is, I get a big enough thump on my head, I can change, you know? I can learn. I can crawl forward.

Steve + caring for everyone when nobody expects it