Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As you fix your hair in front of the mirror attached to Dib’s bathroom door, you glance over your shoulder and shoot him a question: “My first class ends at 10; are you still gonna be here around then?”

“Of course,” he responds. Really, he didn’t need to be told what time your class ended; he had your entire schedule memorized before he had ever said a word to you.

“Then I’ll swing by after.” You step up to him, pressing a kiss to the middle of his forehead. “You behave ’til then.”

“No promises,” he says playfully, grinning as he feels the warmth of your lips. He lifts his chin up and guides your mouth to his, giving you a slow, lingering good-bye kiss. He feels his heart rate start to pick up; it’s hard to keep his thoughts pure even with the most innocently-intentioned kiss.

You pull away, smiling at him as you run a hand through his hair. “See you later.” You pick up your backpack and exit his dorm with a wave.

Dib sighs fondly as he watches the door close behind you. Curse these classes for keeping them apart, even for such a short amount of time. He stretches his arms over his head and cracks his neck, thinking about what he ought to get finished in the time before his first class. He was still in his pajamas— some grey sweatpants and a graphic tee shirt. He could spend the time getting showered and ready for the day. There’s an electrical engineering project he could make a bit of headway on… Or the OChem homework that’s due in a couple days… Suddenly, his eyes catch on something on the floor.

Fallen slightly beneath his bed is a nondescript wad of light blue fabric. His eyes widen; he immediately throws himself to the floor, crawling urgently towards the little blue mass. As the object comes into clear view, his suspicions are confirmed. You had left the panties you were wearing yesterday on the floor of his room.

Dib can sense the absurdity of how excited he is by this discovery; he had taken the panties off of you himself merely hours ago, and could experience you yet again in just a little while. But he can’t help it; getting to know you more intimately had done little to curb his lesser perversions, and had instead, in many ways, enhanced them. And he’s never had unfettered access to your used panties before. The thought had previously crossed his mind when he glanced at the hamper in your room, but he didn’t have the guts to dig through it, or to steal anything from your room, even temporarily.

But this? It had just fallen into his lap. No sneaking required, it’s all in his domain. So there’s no reason to feel guilty about having a bit of fun with it, right? …Right? As he takes the crumpled up fabric and spreads it out to reveal its shape— a cheeky bikini cut— he feels a surge of shame.

He’s really been trying to be less of a creep lately. Even though you perplexingly seem to take very little issue with his obsessive and perverted tendencies, he’s been trying to prove to himself that he’s capable of being better than that, more well-adjusted than that. To bury his face in the crotch of these panties and take a big, deep breath would represent something far from the image of the stable, grounded boyfriend that he seeks to embody. But god, he wants it more than anything.

He can feel his resistance starting to slip as he holds it up to the sunrise filtering in through his window; the fabric has a soft, subtle shimmer, and is just barely translucent. He thinks about that delicate fabric tightly pressed against your crotch, embracing your most sensitive area as you go about your day; he feels a stirring in his gut, a feeling very close to jealousy. He wishes it could be him accompanying you as you go about your day, tightly pressed between your legs.

He shakes his head, casting away his flight of fancy and returning his attention to the little treasure he holds in his hands. He feels that internal conflict yet again; the side of him that insists that he needs to try to be more normal is screaming at the side of him that wants to give over to his hedonistic compulsions. The temptation is too great. The voice of normalcy doesn’t stand a chance.

He gently lifts the panties up towards his face and gives it a few small, hesitant sniffs. A shiver courses through his body at your sweet scent; he recalls the circumstances under which the panties were removed, how aroused and wet you had been as he undressed you. The scent of it lingers on the thin fabric; Dib pushes the fabric against his nose and mouth and inhales deeply, whimpering as his senses are overwhelmed by your essence.

He doubles over, his forehead pressing against the rough, synthetic carpet as he shakily tries to catch his breath. He feels like he’s been shot with a blast of pure arousal. He pounds the ground with his fist; he’s so desperate to be inside you right now that he could scream. In his haze of lust and frustration, he brings the wad of fabric back up to his nose again. His eyelids flutter as the intoxicating scent of your sweat and fluids fills his lungs; his cock, pulsing at attention, leaks precum onto the fabric of his sweatpants. He doesn’t even bother to get in a more comfortable position before he tugs his waistband down.

“[Y/N]… Gh—god, [Y/N]…!” He grips onto his cock and starts to rub, taking another deep inhale. “F-fuck, gasp, you… You smell so good…!” He still regularly pleasured himself to his collection of photos and videos of you, but this was different. Your scent made it so much more visceral, so much more real. Conjured images of you strobe over his mind’s eye; a drop of precum leaks onto the carpet.

He raises his hand and spits onto his palm, hastily providing a bit of lubrication. He brings it back down and starts to rub more urgently, gasping quietly as he takes in the scent of the panties in short bursts; every time he breathes in, he can feel himself getting lightheaded, as if he’s teetering on the verge of overdosing on some kind of inhalable drug.

He stays in this uncomfortable, prostrate position on the floor as he works himself nearer and nearer to climax, as if moving would break the enchantment that he’s under. His left hand suddenly moves from his face to his cock, rubbing the crotch of your panties against the leaking tip. He pants as he lingers there for a moment, and then draws the panties back up towards his nose again, taking in the fragrance of their sexual fluids mixed together.

The new dimension to the scent sends him into even more of a frenzy; it’s the same as when you’re filled with his cum. As he breathes in and frantically jacks off, he imagines that you’re beneath him, crying out and gasping, begging him to fill you up; he takes a final, deep inhale as he feels his orgasm starting to build.

Then, he’s interrupted. He freezes and gasps as he hears a click coming in the direction of his door. You push the door open. “Professor was a no-show— whuh?” Your eyes widen as Dib yelps and quickly shifts himself into a tight crouch on the floor, his tightly-grasped hands tucked between his legs.

You scan him, trying to figure out what on earth he could have been doing to end up in this position, and crack a smile as you notice that his waistband is suspiciously lowered. “Well! I was barely gone for ten minutes and it looks like you’re already getting yourself in trouble.” You drop your backpack to the ground and approach him, looking down at him with a cocky grin. “What were you just doing?”

Between being interrupted right before the brink of orgasm, the adrenaline from the shock of you opening the door, and the classically-conditioned reaction of becoming extremely aroused when he does something sexually humiliating in front of you, his mind swirls uselessly, barely even able to comprehend your speech. He opens his mouth and no words come out.

You kneel down in front of him, tilting his chin up. His eyes dart between making eye contact and looking away. “Get up, my love,” you say to him sweetly, smiling softly.

“I— I can’t,” Dib gasps, his gaze moving to the floor once again. He tenses, holding his rigid position a little more tightly.

You lift his chin again more forcibly. Your smile fades and your gaze takes on a look of contempt. “Get up,” you coldly demand.

Dib lets out a quiet yelp. Offering and then revoking affection is one of your dirtier tricks, and one that Dib was immensely vulnerable to. He would do anything, anything to get that loving sparkle in your eyes back. The look of icy annoyance you could so easily conjure felt so real, enough to make him scared that it could be genuine. He shakily rights himself, quickly moving his hands behind his back.

You grin again as you see that he’s exposed and fully erect. “Oh my. It’s just as I thought.” You reach out, gingerly bringing your hand to the tip of his cock and gently running your thumb across the ridge; he lets out a whine, bucking his hips slightly as your hand makes contact. “But this wasn’t just a normal jerk-off session, now was it? Lying on the floor like that…” You start to rub his cock a little more firmly; his eyes roll back for a moment and he gasps.

“And now you’re hiding something from me. So? What is it?” You rub from head to shaft in slow, deliberate strokes, just quickly enough to sustain pleasure but withholding just enough to prevent it from building. “What do you have behind your back?”

Dib’s breath is hard and ragged as you continue to stroke. His expression is dazed; the elation of your touch has brought a shaky, lopsided smile to his face, and his eyes alternate between looking at you and fluttering shut. “I— I can’t… I can’t tell you… It’s… It’s too…”

You grin. The only time he ever says stuff like that is when he’s eager to be humiliated. “It’s what? Too embarrassing? Too twisted? Too shameful? You think I’m not already well aware of how much of a sick, degenerate pervert you are? It’s adorably pathetic that you think you can preserve your dignity around me.” He quietly gasps as you speak and continue to stroke him, his cock getting even more sensitive in response to the biting tone of your words.

“I’m not going to ask again. What do you have behind your back?”

Dib’s heart is pounding out of his chest. He’s terrified at the prospect of going past your limit of what you’re able to find perverse enjoyment in; considering what you’ve put up with in the past, this probably isn’t it. Regardless, he can’t help but feel a surge of genuine fear mixed with his arousal. He brings his hands forward, clutching the panties tightly to obscure them from your view. “Promise you won’t laugh…”

“Oh, I’ll do worse than just laugh.” You focus the stimulation on the head of his cock for a moment, eliciting a soft moan from him. “Now stop wasting my time and show me what you have.”

With a gulp, Dib opens his hands, revealing the now-rumpled light blue panties.

“Well! What do we have here?” He whimpers slightly as you release his cock and grab the underwear out of his hands; the lack of stimulation is pure agony. You crack a wide grin as you spread them to reveal their shape.

“So… Let me get this straight,” you say, looking down your nose at him with a sly smirk. “I accidentally left my panties here… And you, upon finding them, got so overwhelmingly horny that you started masturbating right there on the floor?”

Dib’s face turns red as he nods. It sounds even more perverse when you put it like that.

“Fascinating. And what about these turns you on so much, hm?” You move closer to him, staring him down as your faces are less than a foot apart. “Is it just that I was wearing them? Or is it… Something else?”

You know him too well; the answer is already extremely clear to you, but you delight in forcing him to state the obvious. His embarrassment is getting the best of him; he looks away and stammers, stuck between admitting it to you and dodging the question a little longer.

Your expression suddenly turns impassive; you stand up. “Oh well. If you don’t want to talk, I suppose I can just head out… And take these with me—“

“They smell like you,” Dib interrupts, having completely fallen for your bluff. “Y-you were so wet when you last had them on, a-and… And they still smelled like it. It… I couldn’t help myself, I got one whiff and completely lost my mind, I—“

“Oh, Dib. Dib, Dib, Dib…” You grin patronizingly as you stroke his hair. “You’re telling me that as soon as you found that I left my panties in your room, your first instinct was to pick them up and huff them?”

He freezes. You always know how to word things in a way that sounds so damning. He hesitantly nods.

“Incredible. You’re always showing me all these new and exciting ways of being a perverted creep. You’ve got a real talent for it.”

Dib’s cheeks burn as his eyes lock to the ground. The feeling of being humiliated by you always teetered just on the verge of being unpleasant, but the arousal it stirred was too potent for him to ever ask you to stop. He sees you step closer to him, and he looks up, his eyes going wide as you start to lift your skirt.

“What about these, huh? Do they smell nice too?” He lets out a pathetic, grateful whimper as you press your crotch against his face. His arms immediately wrap around your legs, holding you against him as he takes a deep breath. He exhales with a loud moan; there’s nothing better than the real thing.

“O-oh my god… I-it’s… It’s so good.” He lifts his chin up, bringing his mouth closer to you as he takes in your scent again. “S-so fucking good, I… I can’t… I can’t help myself,” he gasps just before his tongue presses against the spot that had been soaked through with your fluids.

You gasp at the stimulation and grab a fistful of his hair. “A-aaah… Mmh… Just smell isn’t enough for you, huh? You need to taste me too?”

“I need to… I need to, I need to…!” He urgently pushes your panties to the side and presses his tongue against your bare pussy, slowly lapping at it as his eyes roll back from the bliss of your flavor.

You let out a few shaky gasps as you start to grind against his mouth, pressing his face into you as he holds your legs tightly. “Gh— a-aah… God… You’re hard to resist, even when you act like a big creep.” You chuckle softly. “Oh, who am I kidding. Especially when you act like a big creep— a-aaah!” You cry out as he pulls down your panties down and runs his tongue along your clit.

“Mmmmh… F-fuck,” he groans before pulling you down to the ground with him. You don’t resist as he spreads your legs and once again makes contact with his tongue. Your back is pressed against the door to his room as you tilt your head back and moan, your hips bucking against his chin.

He wraps his arms around your legs, holding you tightly against him as he continues to lick. He squeezes your thighs, his tongue moving down to lap up your fluids; his hips grind against the floor, desperate for any kind of stimulation.

“You are so completely irresistible,” he gasps between licks. He turns his attention to your clit again, swirling his tongue in slow, deliberate circles. He seals his lips around your clit and starts to suck, making you cry out.

Your eyes flutter shut; it feels so good, but it feels like there’s a mental barrier keeping you from reaching climax. It would be so much hotter if you were pleasuring him too. You grab a fistful of his hair and pull him back. “Stop.”

He looks slightly horrified as he’s ripped away from his prize, and quietly whimpers in protest.

“Get on your back,” you tell him, rising to your knees.

He looks slightly confused for just a moment before catching on to your intentions. He lets out a quick, breathless laugh as he flips onto his back. You position yourself over him, lining your hips up over his face, and bring your face to his cock; it twitches in anticipation of contact.

You make contact first; you take the head into your mouth, closing your eyes as the warmth of his skin fills your mouth. He cries out at the sensation, then pulls your hips down and once again buries his face into you. You let out a whimper as you take his cock deeper inside your mouth, which in turn makes him moan and lick more frantically.

The two of you fall into a chain reaction of increasing urgency, an unspoken race to see who can make the other cum first. He gains the advantage over you by slipping a finger inside your pussy, followed by another; you counter by taking him into your mouth all the way down to the hilt and working your tongue along his shaft.

He fingers you with his right hand and grabs your ass with his left, his tongue working your clit as his breathing grows more labored. He lets out a muffled moan as you rapidly move up and down the length of his shaft. You carefully regulate your breathing to keep yourself from gagging, desperate to not interrupt his onslaught of pleasure.

You emerge victorious by a small margin. As you pick up the pace once again in a final push to take him over the edge, he cries out, his grip on your ass getting tighter as the sensation uncontrollably builds. He bucks his hips up and lets out a loud, muffled whine as your mouth fills with his cum.

Even through his orgasm, he refuses to stop eating you out, and that coupled with the gratification of making him cum quickly sends you past the brink as well. Your orgasm hits as you’re swallowing his cum; once your mouth isn’t so full, you throw your head back and cry out, squeezing your eyes shut as the sensation overwhelms you. Dib presses you more firmly against his face until your moaning quiets down, after which he releases the tension in his body, his arms flopping to the ground, satisfied and spent.

You take a beat to recover and catch your breath before joining him on the floor, flipping yourself around and wrapping your arms around his torso. He reciprocates, holding you firmly against him and peppering soft kisses on the top of your head.

“Haaaah— you got me all sweaty,” you playfully complain. “Why are you always doing things that leave me no choice but to fuck you?”

“I don’t know,” he says, laughing breathlessly. “I can never anticipate the kind of weird shit that you get turned on by.”

“Big words coming from a panty sniffer,” you tease.

“Says the one who gets horny at the thought of her boyfriend sniffing her panties,” he shoots back.

“Touché,” you giggle, squeezing him tighter. “It seems like this one’s a stalemate. We’re both hopelessly depraved.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He smiles down at you, stroking your hair. “Hey… If you’re sweaty… You could get in the shower with me.”

“You sure you can handle it?”

“That remains to be seen.” He lifts your chin up, guiding your face towards his to give you a slow, gentle kiss.

After he pulls away, you smile at him adoringly, pressing your foreheads together and stroking his cheek. “I’ll go get the water warmed up.” You lift up, your balance wavering slightly as you get to your feet, still slightly lightheaded from your climax. Dib watches with a loving grin as you walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower; what did he ever do to deserve someone so perfect for him?

Chapter Text

Ever since he was a teenager, Dib struggled with insomnia. By now, he was well-accustomed to sleepless nights where he fruitlessly laid still with his eyes shut, trying to reap whatever benefit from sleepless rest that he could attain. But when you were in his bed, his chronic sleeplessness all but disappeared.

Your warm skin and pleasant scent had a soporific effect on him, and he could always guarantee a good night’s sleep when you were lying there next to him. This went double for the nights that the two of you were intimate before falling asleep; the combination of post-orgasm glow and comfort of your touch could knock him out more effectively than any narcotic.

That was the case one warm spring night; a gentle breeze wafted through the open window, cooling your sweaty bodies as the two of you caught your breath from a particularly heated round of lovemaking. He was pressed up against you from the back with his arms wrapped around you, his face nuzzled into the back of your head. The warmth of your bare bodies against each other was extremely soothing; he gives you a gentle kiss as his eyelids flutter shut, coherent thoughts giving way to an incomprehensible stream of consciousness as he begins to drift off.

The vague concepts and images flickering about his mind solidify; his dream-self grimaces as he pushes open the door to his ninth grade homeroom. That had been a particularly bad year for him in real life. He had, for whatever reason, assumed that high school was going to go better for him, and was very quickly proven wrong. Those four years were easily the worst out of his brutal public school experience; he was friendless, ruthlessly tormented, and completely unsupported by teachers and administration. Whenever he had stress dreams, it was usually set here, at least when they weren’t set in the psychiatric inpatient facility he had been trapped in after graduating from high school.

A faceless, shifting blob of a teacher stands at the front of the class as Dib enters and takes his seat. “Late again, Dib,” the teacher chastises. Several other students enter the classroom after he does, receiving no such criticism. Despite the fact that it was a ninth-grade classroom, all of his classmates were his current age, crammed awkwardly into the slightly-too-small desks. As he looks around, he notices that all of them are staring at him with contempt and disgust. He sighs and looks forward, trying to ignore them.

The class begins. The physically indecipherable teacher addresses them: “Alright. We’ve got presentations today. Who’s going first?” Several students raise their hands; Dib does not. The teacher approaches his desk. “Dib. You. Let’s just get you over with. Better for everyone that way.”

“Oh, come on,” cries out a girl sitting in the back of the room. “If we have to listen to him first thing, it’s gonna ruin it for everyone else!”

“Gotta happen some time. Let’s just rip off the Adhesive Medical Strip.” The teacher points a nondescript arm towards the front of the class. “Get up there. And try to make it quick, would you?”

Dib’s face took on an expression of grim resignation as he grabbed his presentation notes and walked to the blackboard. His classmates groaned and openly complained as he did; Dib knew better than to let them provoke him, as that would only make it worse.

He opens his mouth to begin reciting his presentation only to be immediately interrupted by a large, jockish guy sitting in the second row. “Hold on! Hold on, I know this one!” He puts on an over-the-top idiotic voice. “Bigfoot is ackshually a ghost! He haunts the urinals in the second floor men’s room! He cursed me to have stupid hair for the rest of my life!”

The class breaks out in uproarious laughter. Dib stares at him, his expression flat and unamused. He waits for the class to quiet down before attempting to begin again. “…Modern society as we know it today would not be possible without the use of–“

“Oh my god, SHUT UP,” a girl in the first row jeers. “NO ONE wants to hear this.”

“Yeah, Dib, just give it up,” says a guy from the back row. “Don’t waste our time.”

Dib looks at the teacher, wondering if they’re going to intervene; they just stare impartially out the window. He sighs and opens his mouth to continue reading, and is instantly interrupted by a loud chorus of boos. He waits for them to quiet down, and is greeted with the same reaction when he opens his mouth to speak again. The class clearly has no intention of letting him get through his presentation.

The teacher’s attention re-focuses in his direction at last. “Dib, you clearly did not come in prepared. Go to the detention hall immediately.”

Dib looks distraught. He gestures to his stack of notes. “I— But- but I…”

“No excuses. Now go.” The teacher points to the door. “C’mon, we’ve got twenty other presentations to get through today.”

Dib’s expression is numb as he leaves the classroom; the students burst out in cheers as he leaves, celebrating his absence. He walks rigidly over to the detention room; he comes to an extremely tiny door at the far end of the hall, with “DETENTION” written in large block letters over the square wooden frame, not much larger than a doggy door.

“Budget cuts again,” he mumbles. Dib crouches down, opens the door, and crawls inside. The room is empty, cramped, and pitch-dark. It reminds him of the inside of a coffin. He shuts the door behind him, and lies down on the cold, obsidian-like floor. It was a miserable environment, but perhaps preferable to being surrounded by his hateful peers.

He’s alone with his thoughts for a minute before the door opens again. He raises his head to see who’s coming in; his eyes go wide as he sees that it’s you. “Dib! There you are,” you say, a relieved grin on your face.

He smiles incredulously. “W-what!? [Y/N]!?” He shifts over slightly, making room for you in front of him. “How did you get here?”

“I snuck in.” You shut the door and slide into the cramped little compartment of a room which was already barely large enough for one person, making yourself the little spoon. “I thought maybe you could use some moral support.”

“Boy, could I.” He wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly. “I’ve had such a shitty day.”

“I assumed as much.” You bring his hand to your lips, gingerly kissing his knuckles. “No worries. I’ll stay here with you as long as you need me.”

“Thank you… I love you.” He nuzzles against the back of your head, and brushes your hair aside to kiss your neck.

“I love you too. I hope you know that I’ll always be there for you, whenever you need me.”

He smiles, his heart surging with warmth, and holds you a little tighter.

“So this is detention, huh? Seems… Draconian.” You look around at the featureless, dark walls of the tiny enclosure. “Hope they aren’t going to send anyone else in here.”

“Doubt it,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Mmm. You smell nice… Did you use something new on your hair?”

“Yeah, I’m trying a new conditioner. You like it?”

“Very much.” He presses you against him, taking another deep inhale. He was suddenly becoming acutely aware of the way your body felt against him, your soft skin, your back, your thighs, the way your ass was pressed up against his crotch. His hands grip onto you as his breathing starts to quicken.

You wiggle your hips slightly. “You know… Maybe this is weird, but being stuck in here with you like this is kind of—“

“Hot? Kind of extremely, ridiculously hot?” He grips onto your waist.

“Yeah,” you say with a quick laugh. “You don’t think we could–“

“I don’t think I couldn’t.” His hand travels up, squeezing your breast. You were suddenly nude, and so was he. He lets out a soft, satisfied moan as his fingers sink into the soft flesh, his cock stiffening against the valley between your ass cheeks. “F-fuck, [Y/N], I need you.”

“A-aah… Dib…” You arch your back, pressing more firmly against his stiffening mass. “I need you too.”

He reaches down, shifting his cock to press against your vulva; he grips onto you again as his hips start to pulse, frotting against your lips and thighs as he groans in delight at how wet you’re becoming. You move your hips in turn, desperate for the increased friction.

You let out a frustrated little whine. “Please, Dib… Please, please give it to me…”

He wants it too badly to wait any longer. He adjusts his hips, aligning the angle of his cock, and starts to thrust in. He lets out a shuddery breath as he feels the tight, warm wetness enveloping him. “Ngh… Y-yes…!”

His eyes open, and he is suddenly no longer in the cramped void of the dream detention room, but on your bed. He gasps as he realizes what’s happening; his physical reality had aligned with the events of the dream, and he had, in fact, just pushed inside you.

He withdraws so urgently that he nearly falls off the bed. His eyes are wide and his heart is pounding in panic. “Oh no… Oh no, oh no, I— I’m so sorry,” he gasps, his words slightly slurred from drowsiness.

You were already awake, and you look behind yourself in alarmed bafflement. “Huh? What? What’s wrong?”

“I— I didn’t mean to, I was asleep, I didn’t realize that I was— I’m— I’m so sorry!”

Your voice catches in your throat for a moment as you realize what’s going on. “Hold on, wait, you were asleep? I just assumed that you woke up feeling frisky.”

Dib feels relief coursing through him. He would never be able to forgive himself for violating your consent, even unintentionally, and the fact that it seems like he hadn’t was an incredible stroke of luck. “O-oh, I… Phew. God, I thought I—“ He shakes his head.

“No, no. It’s fine. You’re fine.” You sit up and give him a kiss on the cheek. “But, uh… Are you gonna finish what you started? I have to say, your sleep-seduction was very convincing,” you say, your tone slightly bashful.

His eyes go wide again, his eyebrows raising; he was so caught up in his panic and subsequent relief that he forgot that from her perspective, he had initiated sex with her. He had started to lose his erection when he woke up and the fear set in, but hearing you ask for him like that, it starts to pulse back to life.

“H-heheh… Yeah. Yeah, if that’s what you want.” He lies down again, grinning excitedly despite his drowsiness. “It’s pretty much a given that I always do.”

“I want it badly,” you say, pushing your ass into his hips once again, rolling your hips to encourage his stiffening cock. “It’s— It’s so hot that you want me so bad that you could start fucking me in your sleep.”

He rubs his cock against you, squeezing your ass and leaving a lingering kiss on your neck. “And it’s so hot that you’re so eager… So eager that I was driving you crazy without even realizing it.” He hums in satisfaction as he adjusts his cock between your legs once again; the slippery wetness of your pussy felt even better in real life.

“A-aah… I am, I am, I— aa-aaaaah!” You cry out as you thrust your hips back just enough for him to align and enter. He moans, squeezing your hips and burying his face into your neck. He grits his teeth as he presses all the way inside, letting out a quiet whimper as the warm wetness envelops him completely.

He starts pulsing his hips, slowly at first. You reciprocate eagerly, pushing against him just slightly faster than his own pace, encouraging him to move a little quicker. He does, softly moaning by your ear as he matches your rhythm.

You were even tighter than usual with your legs shut; Dib slows his pace for a moment, gasping as he tries to prevent the sensation from spiraling out of control too soon. He slowly and deliberately pulses in and out of you, pushing completely in and almost entirely out each time. His hand departs from your hips, latching onto your breast and starting to rub. “How does that feel?” he asks you quietly.

“S-so good… So fucking good,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back. “P-please… Please more, I need more…!”

The fire inside Dib’s chest burns hotter as he hears that magic word, more. He starts to pump faster; your breath catches in your throat as you grind against him to match his pace. “Mmmm,” he moans. “You can just never have enough of this, can you? Ngh… Barely any time at all since I last fucked you, and you’re still begging for it…”

“I could never— gasp, I could never have enough… I love it when you fuck me so much, I always want it… I-it’s hard to even think about anything else!”

Dib’s eyelids flutter; if there was one of them who could truly never have enough of this, it was doubtlessly him, but hearing you claim that for yourself was immensely gratifying. He thrusts harder, wrapping his arms around you, occasionally moaning on his labored exhales. God I hope she’s close, he thinks to himself as he teeters just on the verge of climax. You probably weren’t expecting much out of an impromptu late-night fuck, but he feels like he hasn’t done his job unless you came first.

“Ngh— aaa-ah, [Y/N],” he gasps, picking up to a frantic pace. “God, your pussy feels incredible, gh-aaah, t-there’s… There’s nothing that can compare, nothing.” His hands grip you tightly, holding you desperately against him. “Please, please cum for me… I— I don’t know how much longer I can—“

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, I’m so close!” You let out a choked cry as he fucks you even harder, the urgency of his motions sending you even more quickly towards the edge. “O-oh my god, Dib… I’m… I’m c-coming, I— aaah, AAAAAH!”

You cry out at a slightly inconsiderate volume for this late at night, unable to restrain yourself as the pleasure surges through you. Dib gasps as your pussy tightens around him, his fingers clutching you even more tightly. The sensory experience of your orgasm is too much for him to handle, and he immediately follows suit. “F-fuck, yes [Y/N], yes, yes, yes, YES!” He throws his head back as his orgasm hits, clutching your hips tightly as he releases his load.

For the second time that night, you find yourselves clutching each other and catching your breath on your dorm’s twin-sized bed. In his fatigue, this orgasm was even more draining. As his climax starts to fade, he can already feel himself starting to drift off.

“We should… Get you… Cleaned up…” His voice trails off.

“Hah… Hah… Yeah.” You lie there for a moment, waiting for him to move. After he continues to be still, you peek over your shoulder. “You, uh… You gonna let me get up?”

He responds with a quiet snore; he had fallen asleep without even withdrawing from you. You let out a quiet laugh, nuzzling your head into your pillow and resigning yourself to a state of temporary attachment. Even as he started to grow soft, it felt so nice to have him inside you.

You press yourself against him a little more firmly, taking his hand in yours. “Good night, my love,” you whisper before you shut your eyes and join him in a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

This is such complete bullshit. Of course this would never work. This book was only made to scam some cash out of dumb, desperate rubes. What kind of sick-in-the-head creep would waste their time trying this?

The answer to Dib’s internal question was, of course, himself. Despite his dismissive inner monologue, he diligently mixes ingredients together in a small glass jar on his desk. He had to take the bus all the way across town to a specialty grocer just to find some of this stuff. Despite what he tells himself, even if there was only a fraction of a fraction of a chance that this could work, he thought it was worth a shot.

Yesterday, Dib had found a book abandoned in one of the basement study rooms of his dorm building. It was a worn, leather-bound volume; he first checked to see if there was any identifying information on it that could facilitate its return, but finding none, he started to read. The book appeared to be some kind of grimoire, loaded with spells and recipes for concoctions, all of which purported a specific magical effect.

His interest wasn’t properly piqued until he came upon the page for “Aphrodisiac: Potion to evoke lust in the imbiber upon the first individual they see.” He read it over a couple times; in that moment, instead of just leaving the book there like he had originally planned, he stuffed it into his backpack.

24 hours later, Dib was mixing up various liquids and herbs, all according to the recipe printed on the yellowed pages of the book. He couldn’t help but feel silly. Him, practicing witchcraft? What a joke. He knew he was just wasting his time, but the mental image of you being rendered completely out of your mind with arousal was so titillating that he pressed onwards regardless. Once again, his desire for you had completely overridden his sense of reason.

As he prepares to add the final ingredient, his eyes scan the last step; he needs to recite an incantation as he adds this. He groans. “Ugh… What the hell am I doing?” He’s in too deep to give up now.

With a sigh, he begins to recite. “The spiral twists, its tendrils turn, for one alone your heart will burn…  As all things will crumble and turn to dust, you will give yourself over to boundless lust.” He crushes a small handful of herbs into the concoction. Nothing happens.

He puts his face in his hand. “This is stupid. This is so stupid. Why am I doing thi–“

His eyes shoot open as he hears a quiet knock on the door of his room. The lock clicks and the door swings open; you step inside. “Hey, love! Class ended early today.”

He hastily shuts and covers up the magical tome on his desk and spins around in his chair, trying to conceal his panic. “H-hey! I… S-sorry, I wasn’t expecting you!”

“You weren’t? I texted you that I’d be over, like, half an hour ago.” You approach him. “You distracted or something?”

“U-um… Um…” He feels a sweat forming on his brow as you take notice of the ingredients and glass jar behind him.

“Huh? What are you making?”

“I— I— um,” he turns around and looks at the mess in front of him, desperately trying to invent a cover-up. “I’ve been trying out… Mixology! Yeah, mixology!”

You snort and tilt your head curiously. “What? I thought you hated the taste of alcohol.”

“I just… Um… Wanted to try learning how to make mocktails! You know, plain water can— um, it can get kind of boring sometimes!” He laughs nervously and desperately hopes that you’re buying his weak bluff, or that you at least won’t press the issue any further.

“O-kaaaay….” You take a step forward, examining the mixture on his desk. “I hate to say it, Dib, but that one looks kind of… Gross. What’s all that green shit floating in it?” You lean in to inspect it more closely. “Oddly enough… I kind of want to try it.”

“N-NO!” He blurts out as he urgently grabs the jar. “This one… This one’s an absolute failure! It didn’t turn out at all like how it was supposed to! I’ll… I’ll let you try the next one!”

“Oh, come on,” you say as you cross your arms and grin at him. “Let me have a sip. How bad can it be?” You put your hand forward to reach for the jar.

“NOPE.” Dib spins around, evading your grasp, and impulsively decides to chug the entire mixture. You look at him in bafflement as he frantically gulps the drink down; the taste is medicinal and extremely bitter. He lowers the jar from his mouth with a gag. “Gh-ack! Ugh— ugh! That was… That was awful!” He sets the jar down on his desk and crosses his arms with a self-satisfied grin. Crisis averted. “See? I spared you from having to experience that.”

You look at him incredulously, completely perplexed at how strangely he’s behaving. He swipes all of the ingredients from his desk in a single gesture, letting them fall into a plastic grocery bag. “Maybe mixology just isn’t for me. I just don’t have a talent for it. Let’s forget this ever happened.”

For a moment, you stare at him silently with your mouth open. You shake your head, trying to get your bearings. “You trying to break your personal record for being a big weirdo or something? Geez.”

“Maybe. Anyway, you had that big critique earlier, didn’t you? How did it go?”

You stare at him skeptically for a moment longer before answering. “…Yeah. The reception from the class wasn’t bad at all, but freakin’ Professor Wallace...” He sighs in relief as you sit on his bed and start launching into an explanation on how your earlier class went. That coverup was not his finest work, but considering how blindsided he had been by your sudden entrance, it could have gone way worse. His heart rate starts to pick up as he recalls a crucial detail that he had overlooked. He just drank the fucking potion.

He takes a deliberately slow breath, trying to calm his nerves. It was just bullshit, right? Nothing’s going to happen. He always knew nothing was going to happen, and now he won’t need to try to figure out how to convince her to drink it. It’s a win-win! Isn’t it?

Dib’s heart starts pounding even faster. Oh god, was he feeling it kicking in? No, no, this is just the way he always feels around her. This is normal. He takes another deep breath, and then another. Just act natural. Nothing’s going to happen.

“I don’t know what I have to do to get on that crotchety old fuck’s good side, but—“ You pause, looking at him with your eyebrows furrowed. “Dib, are you alright? You look freaked out.”

“I-I’m fine! I’m fine, really!” He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s just that… Um… That drink isn’t really sitting right with me. I must have really messed it up.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Oh, geez. That bad?” You cross your arms. “I guess I’m grateful that you didn’t let me drink it after all. You need anything? Glass of water, wastebasket?”

“N-no, don’t worry. It’s not that bad, really.”

“Okay, but just say the word if anything changes.” You get up and walk up to him, staring down at him with a look of gentle concern as you start to rub his shoulders. “I’m sorry to quash your aspirations of being a bartender, but maybe the gig just isn’t for you.”

He laughs quietly, relaxing slightly at your touch. His head tilts forward, pressing into your chest. He inhales, taking in the scent of your body, perfume, and detergent, and exhales with a contented “Mmmmm.” Without even realizing it, his hands raise and start stroking you. She feels so good, he thinks as he caresses the contours of your body. He groans quietly as he presses more of himself against you, squeezing you slightly as his hands continue to explore your body. I need to fuck her NOW. Now, now, now…!

You look down at him with amused confusion; it was never unwelcome to be received by him like this, but it’s a bizarre contrast from the way he was just acting. “That was quite the rapid recovery,” you say with a quiet laugh.

His eyes go wide and he pulls away from you. That’s right… He’s supposed to not be feeling well. He needs to give it some time. As he takes a deep breath and tries to clear his mind, it dawns on him that this reaction he’s having to your presence is far from normal.

Thinking about you and being around you regularly made him feel like he was losing his mind with lust, but until now, he had never experienced what it was like for that to actually happen. Every single cell in his body was screaming for you in a way that was impossible to ignore or redirect. He puts his hand over his mouth and mumbles, “Oh my god. F-fuck, it… It actually works!?”

Your expression turns extremely concerned. “What? What works? Dib, what’s going on?”

He looks up at you in terror. He’s afraid at what you’ll think of him for this, and he’s even more afraid of himself. What if you didn’t want it right now? Would he be able to stop himself if you said no? He’s pretty confident that he couldn’t, much to his horror.

You kneel down, giving him a gravely serious look. “Dib, tell me what’s happening. You’ve been acting weird ever since I got here, and I didn’t want to call you out, but you’re pretty awful at lying. Tell me what’s actually going on.”

“J-Jesus Christ, I…” He covers his eyes, mortified. “I made an aphrodisiac! That drink I wouldn’t let you touch… It was an aphrodisiac! And I… I didn’t think it would actually work! B-but it did! It’s… It’s working too well, way too well! I— I don’t know how much longer I’m going to have any self control,” he gasps.

Your mouth hangs open as you’re stunned speechless. After a beat, you stand up again, laughing quietly. “So every time you’re acting inexplicably strange around me, it’s because you’re up to something deeply perverted. Got it.” You cross your arms and grin. “Alright, I’m intrigued. Let’s see what this thing does.”

He uncovers his face and looks up at you, wide-eyed. “I can… I can really…?” His hands lift up, trembling in the air as he leans closer to you. “I-it’s really okay?”

“I’m tempted to tie you up just to enjoy watching you fight against the restraints,” you tease. “But I’ll have mercy. This time, at least.”

He stays frozen a moment longer, staring at you with a gaze that becomes hungrier with each passing second. He can feel himself crossing the point of no return, where no amount of self-discipline could stop him from taking what he wanted.

He pounces on you with the urgency of a racing greyhound bursting out of a gate; you let out a small, surprised yelp as you get knocked off-balance and fall to the floor. He climbs on top of you and brings his lips to yours, impatiently thrusting his tongue into your mouth as he pushes your legs open and starts to slowly and firmly grind against you. Despite the extremely sudden shift in tone of this interaction, his outpouring of lust is infectious, and you find yourself quickly rising to his level of excitement. You feel your cheeks flush slightly as he pulls away and looks down at you with an expression of pure desire, slightly intoxicated-looking, free of his usual notes of self-consciousness, like his usual lust has been distilled and concentrated in a way that overpowers any other kind of thought.

If you had known this was going to happen, you would have perhaps picked a more suitable outfit; you were dressed somewhat lazily, having thrown on a sweatshirt and sweatpants shortly before your first class in protest of the chilly weather outside. Despite your lack of consideration to style, he regards you as if you were wearing the most tantalizing lingerie known to man.

You didn’t feel like wearing a bra that day, so as he pushes up your sweatshirt to expose your chest, he lets out a shaky gasp as he’s greeted with the sight of your bare breasts even sooner than expected. He immediately latches on to one with his mouth while he eagerly squeezes the other, stimulating you with an intensity that just barely avoids crossing the threshold into pain. He groans in satisfaction as his sucking changes to frenzied licks, his hands moving down to fumble with his fly.

Finally, the button releases; as he hurriedly tugs off his jeans, you cast off your sweatshirt the rest of the way. Leaning over you, he scans you up and down, internally working through a mental calculus of what could satisfy his desires most effectively. As his eyes focus in on your breasts once again, he swiftly reaches beneath his bed to pull out a little jar of coconut oil, a substance that you had introduced him to as an ideal lubricant shortly after getting together.

He straddles your chest as he unscrews the jar and scoops out a little dollop of the white oil; he strokes it onto his cock, letting out a quiet, trembling moan as a few drops of oil fall onto your the valley between your breasts. Once his cock is sufficiently slick, he uses the remaining oil on his hands to massage your chest, his breath coming in short gasps as he admires your soft, glossy skin.

He doesn’t waste any time pressing his cock between your tits, pushing them together and moaning as the soft warmth of your flesh envelops him. “Y-yes… Yes!” He cries out, his mind-rending desire overriding his usual impulse to take things slow at first. He thrusts with increasing urgency as you lay your hands on top of his, encouraging an even tighter embrace.

You can’t help but lap at the head of his cock as it pushes out between the top of your breasts, making him let out a strangled cry. For him, the pleasure was simultaneously too much and not nearly enough. While he thoroughly enjoyed this act under normal circumstances, the intensity of the sensation was never enough to risk premature orgasm. This time, though, it was different. The aphrodisiac made everything so much more intense, so much more sensitive. He summons what little self-control he still has to slow his pace.

Your contribution renders his effort to curb his building pleasure futile; you take the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it; he gasps, falling over slightly as he props his body up with his arms, and grits his teeth as he’s torn between his compulsion to draw out this experience as long as possible and to continue enjoying the feeling of your mouth. He stays there a moment longer, gently pumping in and out of your mouth before he withdraws, moving down to urgently remove your sweatpants and panties in a single gesture.

Your hips raise slightly as your lower half is exposed, and he moves his hand between your legs, letting out a quiet gasp as he feels how wet you’ve become. You let out a little whimper as he strokes your clit, and a short cry as he slips a finger inside. His eyelids flutter; it’s unbelievable how good you feel, even only on his finger.

He doesn’t have patience for this for long; his cock, leaking with precum and still slick with oil, cries out for stimulation. He positions himself between your legs, rubbing the tip of his cock around the entrance of your pussy for a moment before his desire finally wins out. He pushes in, crying out and falling over on top of you as you take him all the way down.

He stays frozen there for a moment, trembling and gasping with his eyes tightly shut. This had been yet another near-miss from bursting immediately upon entry. He’s so ridiculously sensitive right now that even the slightest movement could send him over the edge, but as he lifts his head up and looks down at your blushing face, the one that he adores more than anything else in this world, he can’t help himself.

His lips press against yours and he tightly grabs your waist as he starts to thrust. Your back arches and you moan into the kiss, your senses overwhelmed by the sudden intensity. He can feel himself slipping into that chain reaction that he usually desperately tries to avoid so soon after starting; not even a minute after beginning to fuck you, he starts to uncontrollably fall into the event horizon of climax.

His fingers dig into the skin of your waist as he lifts his head and cries out a shameless, almost feminine moan as he’s overpowered by the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his life, shooting hot jets of ejaculate deep inside you. He relaxes his grip as the sensation starts to wane, letting his head press against your shoulder as you feel his cum, a much larger volume than his typical load, start to leak out. But despite that, you don’t feel him going soft.

He’s barely lucid enough to feel any sense of shame about this pitiful display of stamina that he would usually find overwhelmingly embarrassing. He mumbles quietly, “S-sorry… I… I just…” Before he can summon any more of an apology, his magically-induced lust starts getting the better of him yet again. He starts to slowly pump in and out, which is as fast as his overwhelming post-climax sensitivity will allow.

“Gh-you’re… O-oh my god… It’s so wet, it’s so–“ he gasps, pressing his face against your neck. “S-so wet, I— I can’t, I can’t even tell how much of it is you and how much is my cum,” he moans breathily as he starts to pick up the pace. “F-fuck, fuck, it feels so good, I just— I just want to fuck it even deeper into you…!” He thrusts even harder, a pace unprecedented for so shortly after climax, his rebound aided by the thrall of the aphrodisiac.

You bite your lip, pleased by these stamina-enhancing effects and aroused by both the enhanced slickness provided by his cum and his extremely enthusiastic reaction to the feeling of it. You wrap your arms and legs around him, holding him against you tightly as he settles into a slow, forceful rhythm, letting out pleasured grunts with each thrust.

He lifts his head up to look at you, sharply exhaling as he beholds the way the intense sensation contorts your features. He grabs your jaw with one hand and your hair with the other, looking down at you with an expression of powerful desperation. “Please… Please, please cum for me,” he gasps, making you cry out as he starts pounding harder. “I need it— I, gasp, I need it more than anything, please…!”

It’s not a difficult ask; you were already well on your way, but his pleading pushes you to the edge even more quickly. He grips onto you a little harder as your noises get louder and more urgent. Everything about you was hypnotic; your sounds, your expressions, your most minute movements; he couldn’t look away if he tried. Not long passes before his request is granted; he picks up his pace again, and your senses are flooded by an overpowering wave of pleasure. You cry out for him in a breaky, barely-coherent shout, your legs wrapping around his hips even more tightly, your thighs shaking as you try to limit his movements to prevent the sensation from becoming too extreme.

“Aa-aah— aaah, y-yes…! Yes, [Y/N], f-fuck, yes…!” He grins crookedly, awash with gratification at seeing you spasm beneath him. He lets you press him all the way inside you, pulsing his hips slowly as his mind crackles with the vicarious satisfaction of watching you cum.

As the orgasm starts to wane, you start to become aware of how uncomfortable you are; the floor is hard, and the carpet is rough, and your back is tolerating it less and less by the second. “Hah, haaah— Can we, um… Can we move to the bed?”

With an exhale, he pushes off of you, gathering his self-discipline just enough to let you sit up and move yourself onto the mattress. As you crawl onto it, he feels that surge of uncontrollable lust yet again; perhaps you were moving to lay down, but he intercepts you while you’re still on your knees. As he presses himself against you, you look back in surprise; “H-hold on, give me just a— aaa-aaaaah…!” So much for taking a second to recover; he’s too far gone right now to heed your protestations and pushes back inside you the second he gets a chance.

He leans down over you as he starts to thrust, his hands roving over your body hungrily. He squeezes your breast with one hand and your hip with the other, shuddering as he takes a deep inhale of the skin on your neck, an intoxicating pheromonal cocktail that encourages him to fuck you harder.

His weight pushes your chest down onto the bed, and he wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tightly as he presses his face into your shoulder blade. “Ngh… F-fuck, you feel so good, s-so fucking good…! I— I can’t believe I get to have you all to myself,” he says breathlessly. “All of you… Every single part of you— gasp, s-so perfect, so— ngh-aaaah…!” He interrupts himself as the sensation starts to swell again. He shuts his eyes tightly and slows his pace, trying to prolong the experience just a little while longer.

You don’t allow it for long; you push your hips back towards his and grip the sheets tightly, insisting that he resume his frantic pace. He can’t help but oblige, pounding into you even more urgently. You let out a high-pitched moan as his fingers grip you more tightly; he no longer has the capacity to consider self-restraint, and keeps thrusting as the feeling of pleasure starts to build past the brink.

“Mmmnh… Y-yes, yes, yes, Dib… Y-YES!” You bury your face in the sheets as you’re rocked by a second orgasm, and the feeling of your pussy gripping more tightly around him is enough to cause him to follow you over the edge. He lets out a shout followed by a whine as he releases his load inside you once again, a more modest quantity this time, but no less overpoweringly intense. He holds you there for a moment, gasping and whimpering as his mind spins, still consumed with lust despite how drained he feels.

He falls to the side, covering his eyes with his arm as he tries to catch his breath. You take a moment to wipe yourself off before you sit beside him, smiling fondly and gently stroking his chest. “So… How was that? Do you recommend it?”

“I— I’m not done,” he pants, his arm falling as he turns his head to look at you. “There’s no way I’m done with you yet… I… I can still keep going.”

You huff. “You sure about that? You look spent… In more ways than one.”

“Nuh-uh… I need more…” His eyes shut. “I need… So much more… I could never, ever get enough of you.” His words become quieter and more slurred as he continues to speak. “J-just c’mere… I’ll show you…”

You lean over him, feeling a little skeptical; you were feeling pretty fatigued, and a bit sore, and he hadn’t quite regained his erection yet. You consider indulging him for a moment before he pipes up again with a moan; “O-oooh… Y-yessss…” His hips twitch, his exhausted cock getting just a little bit more firm. “Ride me… mmmh, just like that,” he mumbles barely audibly before letting out a quiet snore. You lean back and laugh quietly; it seems like your dream-self had taken over in your stead.

You watch him with a soft smile as he murmurs little sounds of pleasure, his speech becoming increasingly incoherent as he falls deeper into sleep. You decide to let him rest to ride out the remainder of the aphrodisiac’s effects, pulling a blanket over him and leaning down to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“You better let me try it next time,” you whisper.