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#my boy needs more love dammit
akiiame-blog · 2 months
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❤️ Mario Appreciation Post ❤️
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❤️ And, of course, can't forget about the movie ❤️
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❤️ Because I can never get enough of this man, he is the cutest fucking thing— ❤️
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brinkle-brackle · 21 days
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did a few lil trek doodles at work the other day and thought some of yall might like :D
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jankwritten · 2 years
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the story doesn't start with the beginning or the end, the story starts with the moments that spark it. the story starts with that idea you had that made you want to sit down and write, the story starts with the moment the characters have that branches out and out, blooms into so many different choices and paths and conversations. it's okay if you don't know how to begin or how to end or even if you don't know what the story wants. just write the moments. follow them and see where they lead.
#this post brought to you by: my fucking writing process#i always try to force myself to write the beginning like i 'should' but then i get BORED and i wanna write the FUN STUFF#so write the fucking fun stuff!!!!#write the moments!!!!!#write when the two protag's eyes catch across the room#write the moment when the main character massively fucks up his entire project and ruins months of work!#write the moment where the hero and the villain run up against one another and in the ensuing fight we learn that they loved one another#like write the shit that makes the story INTERESTING!!!#i PROMISE it will lead you to the plot it will lead you to all the points you need SO Much better#you don't have to start where the story starts. you can start wherever the FUCK you want and then decide later what to do#i always start writing where the conlflict begins#and then if backstory is needed or if there's something that should come first i can make it come first#i can start with nico meeting the weird pale blonde boy and taking him into the woods and then i can go back and add the context#write the moments god dammit#ALSO ALSO ALSO if this advice isn't for you then fuck it!!! this is my advice that i took and it works for me and if it doesn't work for u#then that's totally chill and cool and sexy! now you know one more thing that doesn't work and you're closer to finding the thing that does#it's 3 am so i don't know how coherent this will seem in the morning but By The Gods does it feel so important rn#maybe this is more just a note for myself. write the fucking moments grey.
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silver-leviet · 2 years
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Me : I hate Luna so much
Also Me :
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My own personal feeling about her character aside, her kits actually really fun to play with, especially since she give my boi more extra turns to kick the enemies.
Now time to safe until Vaan's FR and Machina's FR comes.
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a-b-riddle · 15 days
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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dat1angel · 1 month
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DPxDC Let Danny Be an Astronaut Dammit!
Every dpxdc fic and their mother has Danny not be able to be an astronaut because of his accident. Well I say NO!
LET THE BOY LIVE HIS DREAMS!!
We're talking DC, where meta humans are just a thing that exists. People have extraordinary powers and that's normal. NASA would totally have a specialized space program for metas who's abilities make them particularly desirable for outer atmospheric conditions!
Oh? What's that? You're a meta and your ability make you impervious to extreme temperatures? That would be super helpful in the freezing vacuum of space! Your ability makes you less sensitive to negative effects from g-forces and changes in gravitational pull? You can spend so much more time out of atmosphere without negative consequences!
NASA would love the opportunities opened up by these individuals and their specialized abilities. Give them Danny? They would be frothing at the goddamn mouth.
Doesn't need to breath, impervious to cold temperatures, can fly, so much more, and, if we go space core Danny, doesn’t need rations because he can get sustenance straight from the stars? He's everything they've ever wanted! Who cares if his vitals are fucky? They're normal for him! And once they have record of what his normal values are? No issue! In my vet classes we learn that you wouldn't treat a cat the same way as a bird because they have different needs and normal values. Well it's the same for humans and metas! I don't think Danny's different biology would be as big of an issue as a lot of fics make it out to be.
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obae-me · 4 months
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Would He Peel The Orange?
(I hope this hasn't been done too much already, but I really wanted to do it) So, if you've been in the same internet circle as I've been in, you probably know about this trend that's going around right now where people ask their partner to peel an orange for them. It's supposed to kind of signify your partner's willingness to do something important to you, even if it seems mundane or even inconvenient for them. So of course, I wanted to imagine what our favorite boys would do in this scenario.
Note: This is just for silly goofy times. A little ha-ha funny jape, if you will. Meaning not serious. If I think a character would not peel an orange, I don't think they're suddenly toxic or would not love the MC or anything.
"Could you peel an orange for me?"
Lucifer
To those of you who say he is too prideful to peel an orange for you, do I need to point out that he is the eldest sibling? Not only that, but he's practically a single mom. He has Sloth as the baby brother of the family. Do you think Belphie peels his own oranges? No! Lucifer probably cuts the crusts off of his brother's sandwiches for heaven sakes.
Is it heaven sakes or heaven's sake?... I actually don't know
However, I do think he would get suspicious, especially if you're trying to film his reaction. He would raise an eyebrow and know that there's something more to you just wanting an orange. Is this orange cursed? Is this a prank? You'll have to convince him it's perfectly normal before he straight up refuses.
Is he going to get up from his desk or move away from work to go grab you an orange? Probably not. But if you bring it to him, he will peel it for you, giving you a weird- and maybe slightly judging- look the entire time.
He will peel it very nicely, but you would have to take the peel back to toss yourself all while demanding to know why you have such a smirk on your face.
If you explain it to him, he'll definitely get a bit smug. "Who knew all it would take to prove my love to you was peeling an orange? If you needed some assurance, I would've gladly provided more for you."
He wins this one. He peeled the orange.
But...he might be asking his own favor from you later. So, minus one point for that, but they do say the devil dances in dealings, so...
7/10
Mammon
"Huh? Why do you need me to peel it for you, your hands broken or somethin'? I'm not your damn maid."
He is already peeling the orange. He is somehow managing to grumble and act like he's not doing it while he is in the process of doing it.
And if you don't have oranges on hand? Just give him any excuse to go shopping and he will take it. And not only will he peel those oranges, he'll buy them for you too.
And sure maybe he's a little ditsy and might not know what the difference between an orange, a tangerine, and a clementine is (they're all orange, dammit), but he will be buying you ALL of them just in case.
Listen, he's a man with impulse problems and an intense desire to be your number one demon.
Did he probably spend the next few hours in the store getting himself stuff as well? Probably, yeah. He see shiny, he get shiny.
But don't worry. He will peel you that orange.
And you will be eating an assortment of orange colored fruits for the next few days.
Is...this a peach?
9/10
Levi
If he's gaming, probably not. Some games can't be paused. And it's not even that he doesn't want to, he'll probably be glad to do so, but he'll do it once this round is over.
And then he'll probably forget. Which, fair, I do it too. You get into the zone and then six hours have passed. Sometimes the measure of love can't always be held behind an orange.
However!
If a controller is not in his hand and his mind is not occupied by several random colorful flashes, he might peel the orange.
BUT
If too many other people are around, he might get anxiety.
You know when you somehow manage to fumble peeling an orange? You can't manage to break the peel properly or you end up dropping it and looking like a fool?
If you've never had performance anxiety over peeling an orange, you... well that's actually really good, you must have a much more peaceful mind-- but it exists for us anxious people, okay?! It's too much pressure!
In the end, he's very situational! But that doesn't mean he refuses to peel you an orange! It would actually make him very happy to do that for you...
5/10
Satan
Very confused. Will ask too many questions before he does anything.
Are you hurt? Is the peel too tough for human fingers? If you're having a hard time using your fingers, why not get a knife or a tool to assist you? Why are you in his room rather than the kitchen? Is that not a waste of energy? What if he'd not been here, would you have wandered around?
He doesn't get it. He means well though.
He might get a little irritated, not so much at you as at himself. He feels like he's missing something.
Is this some form of human bonding? Are you afraid of the orange? What secrets does it hold?
He will peel it for you. He'll even put his book down to do so.
But please answer his questions, he can't find the logic in seeking him out just to peel a fruit for you. He can list off several other more efficient methods.
If you explain it to him, you'll see him visibly relax. So there was some deeper meaning.
Although now he might think that this form of act is some sort of love declaration. Prepare to have him peel and/or cut all your fruits from now on. Which... is actually kind of sweet. What a gentleman.
8/10
Asmo
No... with his nails?! Please. I've only worn fake nails like twice in my entire life, and doing anything like that with those little suckers hurts like hell. Why?? Tried to open a can once and thought my real nail would peel right off.
And even if he's not wearing fake nails, getting that pulpy orange peel underneath your fingernails?! Having the juice make your fingers all sticky? No. Awful. Bad texture. I've always headcanoned Asmo with texture issues, and if his are even close to being like mine, it's gonna be a no.
BUT
If you want an orange so badly, I can guarantee he knows all these cute little places around town that make delicious fruit selections! He'd probably go out and get you one of those beautiful and decorative edible fruit arrangements and make sure they somehow include lots of orange.
Or, if you don't want that and you just want a normal orange right NOW, he'll charm someone else to peel it for you, hon. Don't even worry.
And once it's peeled, to make up for not doing it himself, he'll be all to happy to feed it to you if you want him to. ~
Never underestimate the lengths he'll go to provide for you and himself at the same time.
6.5/10 I appreciate the hustle.
Beel
I... I mean... he's gonna eat it.
Love the man to death, but if you hand him an orange before you fully preface that it's yours and you just want it peeled, it's gone. He probably didn't even peel it before he ate it too. Probably just eats it like an apple.
But, but, but, he'll get you a new one. So please don't look so sad...
It might be best if you accompany him just in case, but he'll absolutely get you another one. Besides, he wants more himself now, that first one was delicious.
He'll gather a whole basket of oranges and you can share them together.
One slice for you...five for him. Another slice for you...
It make take a minute to get a full orange's worth, but it's about the attempt and the time spent. And he's technically actually peeling SO many oranges for you.
I'd also like to point out that I have actually written out a scene in one of my stories where Beel actually EXACTLY peels an orange FOR MC. WAY before this trend was a thing.
--Eventually he came across an orange, peeling off the wax shell meant to serve as extra preservation. Citrus flooded your nose. Your mouth actually watered at the scent, watching Beel strip the fruit before peeling it apart. A sniff, and then it was actually handed to you.
So he would! 100 times over! Even in my silly little side story where everyone is nearly on the brink of death and in a freezing wasteland, he would still peel an orange for you!
10/10 Minus one point for eating your orange first, plus one point for peeling you an orange in another universe.
Belphie
Y...yeah, no. No, he won't.
Or there's at least a very slim chance he will. He does get in weird moods sometimes where he wants to pamper you, but that's on his own terms and his own time.
He doesn't even peel his own oranges, as I previously stated in Lucifer's section.
If you just waltz up to him and ask him to peel it for you...there's a 95% chance he will not. Most of it being due to him being asleep. You would probably have a better chance trying to train him to peel an orange while sleepwalking. That might work. Would also probably make a good party trick.
But, he's weird at remembering details like this. Even if he doesn't act on it right now, it will be logged in his memory. You could mention something briefly once seven months ago and he'll bring it up to you and remember the conversation completely like it happened yesterday.
So, even if he doesn't peel the orange now, when he's in the mood, maybe after his nap, maybe the next day, maybe two weeks after in which you had forgotten it, he will bring you a peeled orange.
Either that or he'll do what Asmo does and make someone else peel it for you.
3/10
Diavolo
You want him to peel your orange for you? You mean... he gets to treat someone like that for once?! ABSOLUTELY.
He is all too happy to peel you an orange! This is like, groundbreaking for him. He gets to provide! Gets to hand you a tiny fruit, broken and prepared with his own two hands! Is this how Barbatos feels when he cooks?
How does one exactly peel an orange, though?... He's seen them whole like this before, but they're typically already in strips when he gets around to eating them.
Break the skin? What, like an egg?
Well...there goes your orange.
On the bright side, it seems he's very good at making orange juice.
But fear not! He'll have Barbatos bring another one!
Wait...look, see, they come pre-peeled. Oh...you mean Barbatos has been peeling all his fruits for him this entire time? He's never known the joyful luxury of unveiling and working for the literal fruits of his labor?! This will change today.
Get another orange, unpeeled, and he will do it himself this time!
It might take some personal discovery and some patience before he peels you an orange, but it will get done, he swears it!
11/10 Plus one point for wholesome life lessons and sheer determination.
Barbatos
An orange? Just a plain orange? If you wait just a moment, he could have an orange chiffon cake, or would you perhaps prefer some orange panna cotta? Orange Merengue pie? Pound cake? Made into a buttercream? A pudding? A sorbet? A sherbet? Served as a juice? Main flavor or just as a zest? Would you like a meal before dessert? Or he could always find healthier options for oranges? Would you like him to list of those options as well?
Okay, so... he overcorrects a little bit.
Bottom line is, he'd peel you an orange. He'd make an entire seven course meal based around oranges. Make it all the color orange if you'd prefer.
Like I said though, he tends to overdo it.
He falls into his royal butlery habits and misses the fact that this is supposed to be so important to you because it's so simple. Although it's cute the way an ever powerful ever perfect being can miss such a detail.
You might have to put your foot down a bit and not let yourself get carried away in the splendor. You just want this orange. This one orange, and if he could just peel it for you, that's all you want.
So he'll take his gloves off and peel it for you. He'll make sure all the extra little white strands are plucked off as well. And he double checks it for seeds.
Are you sure this is all you want? "I guess something so simple can often be taken for granted. I forget that sometimes."
12/10 He'll probably still end up making you several other orange treats and he learned a valuable lesson today. It's a win for everyone.
Simeon
Are you kidding me?
This man probably brought the orange with him. You probably didn't even need to bring it up! He's single dad with two one kid and a sorcerer. He's like that sweet mom who always has certain things on hand. Medicine? Bandages? Spare cash? Candy? Gum? He's got it. He puts the Guardian in guardian angel.
You want that orange? He'll peel that orange, you just hold on. Let's make sure your hands are clean. Use this hand sanitizer he brought with him. Here, have a granola bar while you're at it. Are you hungry? You didn't skip lunch, did you? Here, take this water bottle, you look a bit dehydrated.
Oh dear, and your hands feel so dry! Here, he brought some lotion.
This angel is 100% fully here for you. You are about to be so taken care of.
Not even oranges. You want your apples fully peeled and sliced? Got it. Want something pitted? He can do that too. He'd be willing to stain his fingers and clothes on a pomegranate for you. How is he doing this even outside of the house? Magic or something probably.
He'd pack you an orange in a cute little bag with a hand written note and a short poem.
This man is a real one.
100/10 He definitely thinks that LOL means lots of love.
Solomon
Are...you sure you know what you're doing? He will absolutely peel you an orange, but at what cost?
If you're not careful, not only will he peel you an orange, but he'll add some of his Special Solomon Spices to make your experience all the more... thrilling.
Quite like how thrilling bungee jumping in the dark could be...
Also, he might just try to peel it with magic, which, while nice of him, defeats the purpose of the entire test.
You'll have to specify he's to do it by hand, and keep an unblinking, ever-careful eye on him to make sure he doesn't 'enhance' the flavor.
But, all in all, he does it. Quite happily too, one might add.
Are you sure you just want an orange? He'd be glad to whip something up for you if you're feeling peckish!
You kind of... tempt fate with this one.
2/10 One point for wanting to peel the orange, one point for trying to go the extra mile. But... well... Will you survive is the thing? You might want to try to measure his love for you using different non-edible methods.
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peterthepark · 2 years
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𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth
summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.
a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.
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It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn’t belong in such a world as nice as this one. 
But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.
When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.
That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.
Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty. 
The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door. 
Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does. 
“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”
The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”
“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”
“Disgusting.” 
He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”
And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard. 
Fuck.
A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.” 
And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”
Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too. 
And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive. 
Fuck me, he thinks.
The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks. 
“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.” 
Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows. 
He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats. 
Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.
In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”
His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”
You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”
“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”
And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved? 
He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites. 
Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.
“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”
“Madonna?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”
Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.
But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 
Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”
“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”
His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.
Eddie sees you again. 
And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all. 
Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches. 
Summer has never felt so long. 
Again.
Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares? 
Again, anyways.
You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.
And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.
He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful. 
You’re completely devastating. 
You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”
Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”
“Why do I even do that?” 
“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”
“You said…”
“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”
You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”
“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”
He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to. 
“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”
“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”
And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes. 
You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.
So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration. 
“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”
Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him. 
Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”
You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?” 
“Only because it made me think of you.”
For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”
His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter. 
“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”
“No girlfriend.” 
“Oh?” 
“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”
“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”
“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”
“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.
Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest. 
Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.
“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation. 
“Nope.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”
Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it. 
Please.
A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.
And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.
“You’re so pretty, you know that?”
You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin. 
He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.
And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”
You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.” 
“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”
“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”
Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”
Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”
“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.
This is what he’s wanted. This is it. 
And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven. 
Just like heaven.
“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”
He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”
“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”
“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”
“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”
“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”
Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”
Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”
“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”
“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”
Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”
“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”
He’s earned it. 
“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.
Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole. 
“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”
Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”
“Christ, please.”
And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks. 
He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’  before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.
Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.
He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.
“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”
Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.
You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex. 
Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.
“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers. 
“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”
“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”
Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him. 
You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin. 
For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.
“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”
You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath. 
Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.
He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”
“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”
“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby.”
You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.
He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.
You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”
“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”
“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”
“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”
And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.
“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.” 
You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls. 
Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”
You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”
“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”
“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”
“Please, s’too hard.”
“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”
“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”
“No.”
You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you. 
You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.  
“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”
You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more. 
“You’re s-so big.”
Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”
“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”
“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”
“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”
Fucking hell.
You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.
How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know. 
He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!
He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”
“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”
“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”
“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”
“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”
“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”
“Suits you better.”
You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away. 
“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”
“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”
I adore you.
I adore you.
You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.
You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive. 
He’s milked. Spent. 
Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.
It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.
My good boy, you think. 
“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick. 
“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”
“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”
Oh. It’s a joke. 
And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”
“I’m alive.”
“Barely.”
“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”
“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”
“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”
Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces. 
“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”
A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.
You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with. 
He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs. 
Fucker.
“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”
You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”
“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”
You stare at him like he’s crazy.
“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”
He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.
Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning. 
Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door. 
And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night. 
So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood. 
God forbid they have coyotes, right? 
But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.
Even though, the album is growing on him.
He’ll never admit that, though.
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daytaker · 4 months
Text
The Gang React to You Petting Their Hair
Lucifer
"I am only going to say this once: stop."
You get one warning. One. If you do not cease and desist, he is throwing you out of his study, so help him Diavolo's Dad. No, he does not like it. No, not even a little bit. You really aren't going to stop? You're just a glutton for punishment, aren't you?
....You're very lucky he's too busy to hurl you bodily from this room. He'll just endure it for now.
Mammon
"Hah?! What's the big idea?! This is the revered hair of THE Great Mammon, I'll have you know. So that'll be 100 Grimm a touch, thanks! ....Hey, no, wait, why'd you stop?"
Once he's done turning bright red and clearing his throat, he'll try to capitalize on this whim of yours by offering you a discount on hair touches. A very poorly-planned scheme, because you're not going to pay to do something he'll start begging you to keep up as soon as you stop.
Oh, so Mammon is willing to let you touch his high-value hair for free? You're so honored. What a good boy you are, Mammon. (You can expect a bit more sputtering and some denials that he is anything like a good boy, but bro's into it big time. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.)
Leviathan
*shrieks in confused, touch-starved otaku*
Wait, no, he didn't say to stop! What's with these mixed signals? Petting his hair then stopping just because he shrieks a little bit? Did you want to touch his hair or not? Is it greasy? Oh god, when did he last bathe? ...It was only the other day. You have no reason to be disgusted. You're just a bigoted normie who assumes all otaku are crusty and gross!
Ahhhh?!?!?!?! Again?! Fine! Just don't change your mind again, because that's super confusing! And yeah, obviously he's blushing, you're petting his head and it feels nice and kind of tickles! ....Mm.... You know, once he's settled into it, it's really relaxing, actually...
Fast forward an hour or two and he's probably conked out with his head in your lap, drunk on affection and mostly asleep.
Satan
"What exactly do you think you're doing?"
It feels weird. Why are you doing that? Wait, you're petting him? Like he's....a cat? Hmm. Interesting. He'll allow it. But you should do it properly. None of this mussing his hair around with wild abandon. You have to be gentle and use small movements. Maybe use your knuckles? Gently though. There, that's it.
So this is what it feels like. Admittedly, he probably wouldn't take kindly to this if anybody else was doing it, no matter how well they imitated proper cat-petting technique. But you're a special exception, so in the future, if you feel the need to do this, just let him know. And for the love of all things unholy, don't breathe a word about this to his brothers.
Asmodeus
"Oh, you like my hair? Isn't it soft? I'll show you the conditioner I use."
Asmo loves having his hair played with! Or brushed, or combed, or tugged (just not too hard, please!) His hair is silky smooth thanks to a mixture of his natural good looks and his shampoo/conditioner combination. He'll let you borrow them if you're interested. Your hair will look amazing! And it'll feel even better!
This is cozy. He'll just settle in and let you do this as long as you want. Careful you don't get too handsy; he knows how irresistible he is.
...Well, maybe if you're a little handsy he'll let it slide, but just because it's you.
Beelzebub
"Are you....petting me?"
Kind of weird, but it feels nice, so he isn't complaining. It's a little bit embarrassing, just because it makes him feel a little bit like a puppy, but then again, who doesn't like puppies? He'll be able to continue to go about his day not minding you petting his hair now and again. The only awkward part is how damn tall he is. You might need to keep a step stool handy.
Belphegor
"Nnngh, knock it off...! ... ... ...I changed my mind, do it again."
His initial reaction to being woken up to you stroking his head is annoyance, because dammit, he was sleeping. But once he shakes the cobwebs out of his brain, he'll realize that it actually felt really good and he could absolutely fall asleep under these circumstances.
He'll wait a little while, hoping you'll give it another try of your own accord, but if you don't, he'll eventually cave and grumpily ask you to do it again.
Diavolo
"Hahaha... That's enough, now."
He isn't actually a fan. Maybe it's the fact that he's a prince and has been acting as an autocrat more or less for centuries, but being stroked like an adored pet feels really degrading. Of course, he won't hold it against you, but seriously, stop.
Barbatos
"Are you finished playing around quite yet?"
Another one who isn't into this at all. He's more than happy to spend his free time petting you, if that's what you're interested in, but he is a petter, not a pettee. Read into this what you will.
Solomon
"You're so forward!"
Solomon likes it very much. Too much, possibly. Are you flirting with him? There's something incredibly intimate about touching someone's hair, don't you think? No, please, continue.
Simeon
"Um, what are you doing? ...As long as you're enjoying yourself, I guess!"
Simeon is more bewildered by this than most. Like, are you trying to scratch an itch for him? Is this one of those "viral memes" he's heard so much about? Well, it feels nice, and it isn't as if it's hurting anybody. He'll indulge you for now.
A little to your left, please. Ahhhh, that's the spot...
Luke
"Hehe, that tickles... Hey! Is this a Chihuahua joke?!"
It feels kind of nice, but as soon as he takes a second to think about it, he realizes that you're treating him at best like a little kid, and at worst, like a dog, and he isn't having any of that. He'll scold you for treating a Celestial being so casually, remind you that he's actually a lot older than you, technically, so who's the real baby, and secretly pine for more pets for the rest of his life.
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xxsabitoxx · 6 months
Text
Look, Don't Touch
Gojo Satoru x Female Reader
Warnings: Major DUBCON, pervert Satoru, somnophilia, jerking off, whiny, whimpering, need Satoru.
A/N: this is literally a dream I had so naturally here it is in written form... hehe
WORD COUNT: 2,148 | Not proof read (forgive me)
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“Sa-to-ru '' you drawl slowly, giggling as he only whines in response. “I can walk ya know, Sa-to-ru~” but the man refused to put you down, carrying bridal style down the streets of Tokyo with your apartment as his end destination. “Stop talking.” But there was no malice in his tone, he was just getting antsy, and it was all your fault. 
You had been teasing him relentlessly, in the club, at the bar, even now as he carried you home. You weren’t even that bad off but he still didn’t trust you to walk by his side if he set you down. Given the fact that Satoru himself had a couple drinks, he was in no state to chase after you. “Never, you know you love the sound of my voice, Sa-to-ru.”
He did, and the way you drew out his name was sending shrills of need down his spine.
“You’re so mean to me… so fucking cruel.” He whined, not caring how desperate he sounded as he rounded the next corner. “You love how mean I am to you, makes you hard, huh?” You whispered the last part in his ear, giggling softly as you felt him tremble. “So cruel.” was all Satoru could mutter in response, nearly crumbling when your building was in sight. 
“Tell ya what, Sa-to-ru.” You started, head swaying a bit before you decided to rest it on his shoulder. He didn’t answer, trying to ignore your hand gently trialing across the broad plains of his chest. You could feel his heart racing, it excited you to no end. “C’mon, answer me.” You pouted, fingers still trailing along his chest before finding your way to his neck. 
“Go ahead…” his voice strained as he spoke “...Tell me what you want to say.” He knew he’d regret it, the moment you shimmied in his grasp so your lips could ghost his ear. “If you can remember the code to my apartment, I’ll let you spend the night.” You laughed softly as he sighed. “I don’t need a place to sleep, sweetheart.” He tried to sound uninterested but dammit…
“Not to sleep, silly boy.” You teased him further, dragging your nail under his chin and watching him try and fight off the shiver that it sent through his whole body. You watched his throat bob, the grip he had on your body tightening a bit. “I wanna play with you.” You whined softly, legs kicking a bit where they dangled in his grasp. 
“Play with me?” he huffed out, legs carrying him quickly as you spoke. “Yeah, wanna play with your co–” but he cut you off with a choked “Woah!” which only made you laugh harder. “Sorry, Sa-to-ru. The drinks make me feel more than I should.” But the white haired man only shook his head, if he spoke he was certain his restraint would go out the window. 
He wasn’t mad nor was he uncomfortable. Quite the fucking opposite, he was seconds away from taking you up on your drunken offers. He was shouldering the glass double doors open, ignoring any glances the two of you may get by any passersby. He knew your apartment code just like he knew your phone number, he spent enough time over at your place to know. 
“So what you’re telling me…” he clicked the button for your floor as he stepped into the elevator, strong enough to hold you with one hand as he did so. “... you’ll let me fuck you if I remember your apartment code?” He finally smirked down at you, trying not to chuckle at your lidded eyes and smeared lipstick. “Mmhmm, thats exactly what you can do… fuck me really good.” 
His moment of confidence fizzled away at your tone, so seductive, so needy. 
Fuck he wanted you bad… 
By the time the elevator door opened, Satoru was uncomfortably hard. It was the only thing he could truly focus on, the way his cock was stiff in his boxers, straining against the material and slowly leaking. Every step sent shivers up his spine, the material brushing his sensitive cock just right as he stopped in front of your door. “You better know it, Sa-to-ru.”  
Your words had begun to slur from a mix of alcohol and exhaustion, you could feel your own arousal dampening your underwear but you had a funny feeling you wouldn’t even be awake by the time he got you in bed. It took three seconds for him to type your code, door clicking to signal it had been unlocked. “Ha…” soft and triumphant as he pushed his way inside. 
You had been right of course, Satoru hadn’t bothered looking down at you again until he was moving to place you on your plush mattress. “No way…” he choked as he set you down, your eyes shut and chest evening out as you began to snore softly. “Such a fucking tease…” he whined, he should have expected you to pass out. He could feel his own exhaustion the entire walk here…
But you had worked him up so well that his tiredness was long forgotten. Now all Satoru could think about was the aching hard-on he had in his pants. “You’re lucky I’m a gentleman.” He mumbled to you despite you not being able to hear, carefully taking off the shoulders of your dress and pulling it down your body. He would only undress you and tuck you in, that's it. 
At least that was what the rational portion of his mind was saying, the other part was starting to lose its cool at the sight of your bare skin. “You’re so fucking perfect.” Satoru muttered again, trying to restrain himself as he pulled off your pantyhose to toss into the hamper as well. Your panties had dragged down a bit with it, revealing soft skin that made him salivate. 
“This is a form of torture.” he whined, moving to place you up against your pillows. He admired the way you looked, peacefully asleep in nothing but a lacy bra and panties… teasing him thoroughly even in your sleep. The thing is, Satoru couldn’t seem to pull himself away, not even to pull the blankets up and give you some modesty. His feet were glued to his spot on the floor. 
“You… you wouldn’t mind, right? Surely you would understand…” he babbled softly, hands moving to hook in the waistband of your underwear. “Just… just to look. I won’t touch…” His breathing stuttered as your cunt was revealed to him, so soft looking and utterly perfect. Satoru’s cock twitched, reminding him of what he really needed. 
Large, warm hands were spreading your thighs, revealing the sticky, shiny arousal coating your pretty cunt, leaving Satoru’s throat dry. “Fuck…” he was shaking as he undid his pants, pulling them off completely and letting them drop to the floor before stepping out of them. His boxers followed, slightly soiled from his precum dampening the front. 
Satoru was careful, climbing onto your bed and sitting on his knees. You laid before him, fast asleep with your legs spread and cunt out in the open. That was more than enough for him, fuck was it more than enough for him. Satoru’s fist wrapped around his shaft ,giving it a hard squeeze, whining lowly as his pretty eyes locked on your cunt. 
Carefully, he tugged at himself, collecting spit in his mouth to drool down over his length. “You’d be such a fucking tease right now, huh?” he spoke to you, hand moving faster now that his saliva was acting as lubricant. “Bet you’d be telling me how bad you want my dick, huh?” he groaned out, his free hand reaching down to fondle his balls as he watched arousal leak from your cunt. 
“Fuck you’re so cute… even your fucking cunt is cute…” his lips twitched, cheeks flushing pink as he spoke those words to you. Dirty talk was never his forte… unless he was alone… or in this case, the other party was sleeping. He could never say the things he imagined when the other person was present. He could only fantasize about the things he would like to do. 
“I wanna eat your pussy so bad… you’re so mean for falling asleep on me…” 
Satoru whimpered as he thumbed his slit, collecting the precum and massaging it around his sensitive tip. “Fuck it looks so good… wanna bury my face down there and eat you out…” he gasped, squeezing his balls so tight he nearly doubled over from the wave of pleasure that passed through him. “My fist is nothing compared to your pussy…” he drawled out now… cheeks flushed red as his pleasure only grew with his words. 
“Bet you’d feel so good, your nails digging in my hair and keeping me there…” he could feel his mouth water, the thought of going down on you was going to have him blowing his load before he was ready too. “You probably taste so good, fuck I want to eat you out so bad…” he whined, brows creasing as he repeated his desires, his fist gliding up and down his shaft in fluid motions. 
Your thighs twitched in your sleep, threatening to close but Satoru’s hand shot out and stopped you. “A-almost done… please let me keep looking at your pretty pussy… almost done I swear…” but you had long since relaxed again, and his fingers had found their way back to his cock head. Satoru massaged himself, his tip flushed a pretty pink and leaking desperately as he pleased himself to the sight of your cunt. “So good… but your hands would be so much better than mine.” 
He was going to cum, he knew he was, he could feel his cock twitching in his grasp as he whimpered about how badly he needed you. “So cruel to tease me and then leave me hanging, especially when your cunt is so pretty and wet for me…” He kept moving, his pleasure building deep in his gut and making his balls tighten. He was going to cum at any second. “You wanted to play with me and now I’m just playing by myself…” Satoru huffed, chest rising and falling faster. 
“You wanted me to play with your pretty cunt and now you’re sleeping… your punishment is not getting off like I’m about to… but still.” He whimpered as he thumbed his slit again, head falling back momentarily to let out a guttural moan, he certainly knew how to get himself off… but it wasn’t you. Fuck it wasn’t you, your hands, your cunt… “So mean…” he gasped out again. 
Satoru could feel sweat dripping down his brow as his fist pumped along his length over and over, he’d cum soon, so soon, but he didn’t quite want this to end yet. Your cunt looked so inviting, but he wouldn’t dare touch you while you were sleeping. He needed to see your sweet face contort in pleasure when he impaled you on his dick.
“Fuck I want your pussy so bad…"
He could really feel it now, especially with the way his cock was twitching. One glance downward and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Blue eyes focused back on your cunt, the idea creeping up his spine and reminding him just how perverted this whole thing was. “You’ll let me cum on your pussy, right? I mean it’s the least you could do…” He wanted to cover your cunt in his release, he wanted to see sticky globs of cum coating your pretty pussy.
“Y-yeah… no better place…” He mumbled, tugging his fist faster as his cock felt heavy in his own grasp, twitching and aching to spill his release. So he scooted closer, pulling your body closer to him as he did so. His cock was hovering just above your cunt now, the heat teasing him as he pumped himself closer and closer to his end. “Gonna cum…fuck I’m gonna cum all over this pretty pussy… so fucking mean.. You’re so mean… so fucking mean…”
He whimpered out, over and over as his eyes squeezed shut. Thick ropes of cum spurted from his head, covering your cunt in sticky white. Satoru didn’t stop, hand moving up and down his length over and over even as the pleasure turned into overstimulation. Whimpers and moans fell from his pretty lips as he watched his cum leak down your cunt and pool just under your ass.
“Ruined your sheets…” Satoru spoke to himself, still incredibly turned on by the sight of your cunt covered in his release. “A-again.. You wouldn’t mind if I did it again…” His cock hadn’t softened after all, still stiff and aching in his palm despite dumping a load on you. “You just drive me crazy… you and that cunt…” He whined, fist already moving again while you slept
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sunsetsimon · 7 months
Text
farmer simon riley ♡
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
this is very self indulgent sorry not sorry! pt 2. boyfriend simon nsfw will be out tomorrow!
─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────
☼ he wakes up at the crack of dawn every morning, kissing your forehead before he starts his routine. rinsing his face, shaving if he needs to, brushing his teeth, the usual. simon doesn’t listen to much music when he’s alone, but the silence grounds him, a reminder that this is his life now. he does a lot of reflecting, sitting on the porch and drifting off in his mind.
☼ as the sun comes up he gets to work, feeding the animals one by one. he talks to them and names them. he acts annoyed when the ducks follow him, quacking at him for him to hurry up and give them their feed. “god dammit, fucking ducks back up!” he grunts, kicking his leg out to keep them back as he fills the bucket.
he makes his round to each animal, giving them a pat and checking that they have everything they need before leaving. by the time he makes his way back to the house, he can tell you're up. the curtains are drawn and the front door is propped open, letting in the fresh morning air. he knows he'll find you in the back garden with a wicker basket on your arm, trying to decide what to make for breakfast.
"how about omelettes this morning, love? somethin' simple, wanna spend some time with you," he says, pulling your back against him, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt and caressing your skin.
☼ always drives you into town when you want to go. he’s like your personal body guard, so unless you tell him otherwise, he expects to be next to you the entire time. spoils you so much too, letting you buy whatever you want without a fuss, he has the money for it.
☼ he buys whole cow from one of his cattle friends and learns to cook different recipes with the meat. simon definitely becomes one of those ‘griller guys’ who finds any excuse to grill or smoke meat. he has a lot of fun with it, trying out new recipes and techniques to see which produces the best results. he loves cooking together with you, thinks you look so cute in your “kiss the chef” apron he got you.
☼ having the boys or your friends over for meals. ghost is anything but a socialite, but he does have the boys over a few times a year for a small cookout. you get so excited every time, ready to hear all the stories soap and gaz talk about, even though they definitely shouldn’t be sharing the information. they try to keep it lighthearted, making positive memories with each other outside of work is rare. he never says it, but simon has a good time whenever they come.
☼ indulges in a lot of hobbies. shooting, wood working, gardening and more. he has to do something to occupy his time now. there’s a small building on your property that he renovated into his work room. tools cover the walls, and his projects sit on the tables until he finishes them. he spends the nights he can’t sleep in there, distracting himself with work so that he doesn’t think about the things that haunt him. you wake up to an empty bed in the middle of the night and look out the window, seeing the lights on in the distant building. sighing, you roll out of bed and put on your fuzzy robe that he got you for winter.
you open the large door, revealing simon sitting at one of his tables, his gun taken apart and splayed across it. “si, it’s 2 in the morning, come to bed,” you say, walking over and softly petting the hair on the back of his neck.
“i will soon, just gotta finish this.” you frown at him, giving him a knowing look that he doesn’t actually plan on being done soon. unmoving from your spot, he sighs and wipes off his hands, throwing the towel down. “okay, ‘m coming.” his hand reaches under the table, grabbing a 2nd gun and tucking it into the holster in his pants.
you roll your eyes, “my god.. do you just have those everywhere?”
“yes.”
☼ homegrown flower bouquets during the spring and summer, simon makes it a point to make you a fresh one every week. he cuts the stems and puts it in a vase for you, leaving it on the kitchen counter for you to see when you come down. he does everything he can to make you feel special because you’re the light of his life. sometimes he builds you things too! making mental notes whenever you talk about wanting something, he spends night after night in his workroom to make it perfect for you.
☼ loves sitting on your porch and watching the sun set with you. after dinner, he’ll pull you out onto the porch, sitting next to you with a glass of whiskey. simon doesn’t say anything, just staring off and enjoying your presence. you can feel his eyes on you occasionally, watching as the sun casts it’s oranges, pinks, and reds across your face. you look so beautiful and peaceful here.
☼ never expected this to be his life but he’s happy with the way it is. he can never get too bored though, always needing to do something. the winters can be tough on him mentally as there’s less to do in the cold, so he picks up reading and is constantly finishing projects around the house. he just wants you to be safe and by his side, forever.
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pinkroseblooms · 3 months
Text
Boy Toy
Sugar baby!Toji Fushiguro x Sugar mama!f!Reader
Summary: You try to break things off with Toji; needless to say, he does not take it well. wc: 5.1 Warnings and tags: this story contains smut, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, begging, emotional manipulation, toxic behavior/relationships, some soft!dom/bratty!sub elements, a clingyyandere!toji, possessive behavior, obsessive love, some angst, some fluff, all twisted af.
a/n: I see a lot of Sugar daddy!Toji content and wanted to switch things up a bit with some emotional feels. I also ended up listening to Rick Montgomery's "Boy Toy" on repeat and got ideas. Personally I headcanon that if Toji ever did somehow develop genuine love for another person it wouldn't necessarily help him chill out this time around, he'd just become more unhinged.
His things are in a pile, close to the solid red oak door; they’ve been packed away in brand new luggage carriers and on top is the duffle bag Toji had initially used to carry his stuff in for overnight stays.
If it were anyone else, Toji would have expected the various articles of clothing and personal items that had steadily accumulated inside your spacious home to be thrown out carelessly like trash on your equally spacious lawn. That or burning in the firepit. 
If it was anyone else but you, it’s what Toji would have expected, but you weren’t petty that way; even now as you stand before him, arms crossed, gaze almost blank, you radiate a certain measure of dignity. It’s one of those things Toji’s come to admire about you over the past year. It’s effortless, that magnetizing charm you exude; he liked it right away.
“You can keep the bags, sell them if you want.” Your lips form a small but rueful smile. “I sent you a check; call it a severance fee.”
“I thought I didn’t work for you anymore.”
Toji hasn’t considered you a client in months, though really, a mark was more accurate. You were disgustingly wealthy with a cute face and that was all he needed to pounce on the offer to be your bodyguard and occasional companion to the odd social events. Even cleaned up and polished, Toji was able to keep others away in droves, exactly what you were aiming for; you found social obligations tedious and his handsome yet intimidating presence kept everyone around you from lingering too long and insisting on taking up too much of your time and attention. Toji spent the first three or so months in your company essentially as an employee and he was satisfied with the arrangement. It would have been so easy and simple, it should have been, had you not burrowed your way into his head, like a bullet piercing bone. 
Dammit he never should have fucked you. Toji had every intention of keeping things professional. He should have kept his distance, he certainly shouldn’t have let his fingers trace your skin after zipping up your dress, and damn you by the way for looking over your shoulder at him with those pretty doe eyes and not telling him off when the second you caught Toji leaning in, almost like he wasn’t realizing he was doing it, to get a whiff of your scent mixed with the perfume he had said was his favorite. 
“You don’t have to keep the charade up anymore; it’s insulting at this point. I won’t force you to stay here.”
“You’re dumping me.”
“No. That would mean we were actually dating. Toji…Fushiguro-san, I made a mistake.” You’re almost talking to yourself as you look over Toji’s tensed shoulders to the entrance of your home. “I was fooling myself, thinking you could open your heart to me. But, I knew what I signed up for. So, no, I won’t leave you without any job security until you find your next meal ticket.”
“You’re not-”
“I heard you. Please, it’s not like you to back track on your words, so don’t start on my account.”
Toji was bragging over the phone, giving a verbal middle finger to an asshole of a former employer who demanded Toji’s services for a hit. You overheard him refer to you as a “piggy bank” with a pretty face, among other things. Shortly after ending the call, Toji left to work out (he couldn’t get too lazy, got to keep in shape to protect his favorite girl) and grab some food (on your card) only to return to this. You didn't even give Toji a chance to greet you with the usual flurry of kisses and a bear hug before telling him point blank he was leaving and now.
Even as Toji struggles to wrap his mind around your abrupt change in demeanor, with that practiced look of almost serene impassivity, you look so good to him, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and tiny bike shorts. You always dress down at home, in comfy, baggy things. Toji supposes you packed away all the sweatshirts you’ve collected from him with everything else of his. 
“You won’t even let me apologize?” Toji stands stiffly in the foyer, next to the bags; behind him is the front door, still open, as if waiting for him to step outside. “It was all shit talking. I didn’t mean how it sounded.”
“That doesn’t make it better and it’s not just that. You’ve been hot and cold lately. Admit it: you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge me as anything but an obligation.” You exhale slowly, rubbing your temple. “I’ve tried to be understanding; you lost your wife and I realized it would be hard. I knew that, I knew there was a chance that no matter how close we became, I was never going to be enough for you.”
You put up a good front, but Toji can recognize the faint tremble in your voice, see how your jaw locks slightly, as though you’re holding back curses. He’s hurt you. 
“Baby, c’mere?” Toji opens his arms with a pleading half smile. “You’ve been stressed lately, that’s all. You’ve been working hard and I haven’t been showing my appreciation properly, is that it?”
“Oh spare me. Listen, I won’t swear revenge or sick henchmen on your trail.” You go on, calm as can be, not budging an inch. “The check won’t bounce and all your things are there; if I missed anything, I’ll send it to you. You’re free to go.”
Toji stares at you in disbelief, arms dropping to his sides. You could have just as easily said "you're dismissed" with that cutting tone of yours.
“Are you fucking serious?” 
When you fail to respond, he suddenly turns from you, but not to storm off. Instead, Toji slams the front door closed so hard, it’s a wonder the whole structure didn’t come crashing down. You don’t so much as flinch when Toji strides up to get in your face.
“I want my stuff out of these bags.” he snarls. "Now."
“There’s no need to make a scene. It’s not like you’ll be without a benefactor for long; I bet you could find another meal ticket just walking down my driveway. The whole neighborhood is full of lonely rich women, you can have your pick.”
“You’re not a meal ticket. You know that, you know I didn’t mean it dammit!”
“Enough.” You raise a hand up, your voice clipped. “Fushiguro-san, you have your things, plenty of money, and my own promise to leave you in peace. What more could you possibly want? What exactly is it that you’re holding out for? You don’t expect me to fund you indefinitely, I’m sure.”
"Why are you acting like this? Like you don't even give a shit?"
Toji’s hands clenched into fists; he’s radiating power and murderous intent, but you don’t look swayed or even scared. You know he wouldn’t strike you. Just the idea sickens him; no, it’s not you he’s actually angry with. 
“I’m a fucking idiot who wanted to show off, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Fine. Now we’re gonna talk this out like adults, I’ll put this shit back-"
“No, you will not. I want it gone. I want you gone. Don’t you understand?” You tell him firmly, eyes finally averting to the pile of bags. Toji’s puffed chest deflates at the sadness that finally touches your inflection. “I’m disappointed enough as it is; can’t you do this one thing for my sake? Why are you insisting on dragging this out?”
“I want to put it all back.” Toji blurts out stubbornly, so loud his voice echoes in the high ceilings. “You can’t do this to me, I want to stay.”
“Excuse me?” You snap. “What exactly am I ‘doing to you’?”
“Come on, this is so silly, kicking me out over a misunderstanding.” Toji lowers his voice, a smile coming to his lips as he attempts to charm you once again, hands coming up to gently grasp your shoulders. “You’re breakin’ my heart here. You said it yourself, it’s a been over a year, you know me-”
“Do I?”
“Yes!” Toji steps forward, a strained grin on his lips. “You do. You know me and you know you’re my best girl.”
“Out of all the others?”
“Best and only; I haven’t been with anyone else in months.” Toji rubs his hands over your arms but you only give him a look of derision. “I’m not lying; tell you the truth, ever since we went out to the beach, it’s only been you. Remember that trip?” he grins softly, nuzzles your temple; he knows you want to lean into him, you’re just being stubborn. How adorable. He loves when you get grumpy and need his help relaxing. “I showed you how to make a fire and we fell asleep outside on the hammock. That night was something else...you’ve been the only one ever since. Baby, I swear, there haven't been any other women.” 
Toji inches closer, hands shaking slightly where they grip your shoulders; his love bites are still visible, some more faint than others; his arms ache to hold you. You’re so close, so what’s with this wall you’re putting up? 
"I want to believe that."
"It's the truth."
Toji isn’t sure how or when it began, but before he knew it, you were calling just to talk and ask how he was doing, if he needed anything. You requested he join you not just for meetings as extra muscle or posing as a date, but on walks and meals, having conversations about the weather to debates about the nature of man to whether toast was better with jelly or jam. You’d take Toji out randomly on shopping trips and end up buying him pretty much anything that caught his eye. Anything Toji wanted, he got, and along with it you increasingly showered him with praise and affection. 
When the sex began Toji thought he got you out of his system the first time, only to end up not just repeating these trysts, but staying longer and longer after he fucked your brains out. It was borderline embarrassing, how quickly Toji found himself lulled in by your pillowtalk as you encouraged him to sleep in, promising you’d have breakfast ready for him in the morning. Sometimes, Toji would come over when you weren’t even home with the spare keys you gifted him and promptly burrow himself in your bed until you were due home. The whole room smelled sweet and it was so cozy being wrapped in the down blankets. Toji's eyelids would get heavier as he wallowed in your scented sheets ike a pig rolling in mud until the combined aromas of your perfumes, lotions, and natural scent clung to his nostrils, soothing and oddly familiar; within minutes Toji would be out like a light. After some of the best rest he had ever gotten, Toji would wake up to you stroking his head, petting him like a dog, and asking him what he would like for dinner. 
Eventually, inevitably, came the point of no return. During that beach trip Toji told you about his past; he didn’t go into too much detail, mainly that he had loved someone and he was pretty sure lightning only struck once. You didn’t get jealous or angry; you simply kissed his knuckles and put your hand over his, not saying much of anything while Toji spoke. That night on the beach you held his hand and allowed him to reminisce at his own pace into the early hours of the morning, until he was too exhausted to do anything else but hold you and the two of you stayed that way until noon.
That peaceful, almost unreal night, Toji realized you actually gave a shit about him and he didn’t know what to do with that. Regardless, you made it clear you didn’t expect to own his heart and soul. You only promised to take care of him. 
“I was being stubborn, you know how I get sometimes. You’re my one and only, baby, can’t we just forget about it?”
“I want you to leave.”
“No.”
“It wasn’t a request.”
“No!”
Toji’s hands cup your cheeks and he winces at the disgust in your eyes; why are you looking at him like that? 
“Okay, okay, let me make it up.” Toji’s voice is sweet as pie; he leans in, practically purring in your ear. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll show you how sorry I am.”
“Get. Off. I knew you were shameless, but this is...”
You might as well have slapped him across the face; Toji’s smile falls as you glare like he’s some repulsive insect, a leech, like the thought of him touching you is making your skin crawl.
Toji’s hands retract from your face, expression blank. “You’re really serious.”
“Don’t give me that kicked puppy look. As if you don’t have women on speed dial to call up. Why don’t you make up with one of your other meal tickets? I’m sure they’ll have forgiven you by now for however you wronged them-”
“I told you there isn’t anyone else. Don’t do this.” Toji mutters, head hanging; his chest throbs, he can feel sweat trickle down his temple. “Don’t make me go.”
It’s doubtful you could forcibly remove Toji from your presence, but that’s beside the point. It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want him. 
“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
“No, I’m really sorry.” Toji falls to his knees. “Don’t make me go.”
“Hey, wait, what are you…?”
Toji wraps his arms around your thighs, face pressed into your waist; you stiffen but he hangs on tighter, fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.
“Please, don’t make me. I wanna go upstairs, back to our bed. Listen, I,” Toji pries himself away from you just enough so he can look at you with glassy eyes. He’s panicking now, babbling and frantic as you try to pry off his arms. “Stop that! Baby, I got all messed up about getting too attached and I-I didn’t mean anything I said, you gotta believe me.”
“Toji, let go!” 
A cold sweat makes Toji’s already tight shirt stick to his tensed back muscles; he feels like he’s being choked. How could you do this to him? All he wants is to stay with you, whether it’s as a bodyguard, a hired companion, a fuck toy, hell, he’ll settle for being your pet if that’s what it takes to get you to take him back. 
"You promised you'd take care of me." he mutters, ignoring your vain attempts at freeing yourself from his unyielding hold. "I don't...want it to be anyone else."
Toji won’t let you go. You’ve made him lazy and spoiled with your pampering; he doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to, never has to worry about money or food or rent, and he never has to wake up alone anymore. Whether Toji’s angry, tired, bored, or as of late, happy, you’re the first person he thinks of. You give him everything and now you’re trying to cut him off.
"You let me go right now!" You slap at his shoulders, try to pull back his head from where it's pressed into your midsection. "Are you even listening?!"
With a distressed moan, Toji nuzzles your tummy, kisses the skin peeking out from your sweatshirt riding up under his forearms; his rough hands relax their grasp a fraction to caress your hips. 
“Let me stay. I won’t answer calls from my old bosses, I’ll quit betting. If I look at another woman, gouge my eyes out. All you have to do is tell me how to fix things.” Toji smiles at you, one he knows makes women weak in the knees. “Don’t be mad at me anymore. I’ll make it up, I swear. I’ll do anything you want.” he promises between kisses and nips to your skin. “Why are we wasting time arguing? You know, I can make you feel so good. My poor baby, spending all day working so damn hard; you deserve better. I'll help take the edge off...you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can help, just-”
“Toji, stop-”
“Just let me dammit!” 
Toji feels you freeze up; you’re looking back at him with wide eyes. His stomach drops like a rock.
“Sorry…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
No. Now you look scared, maybe a bit concerned; is that for him? Toji can feel some warmth creeping into his chest in spite of everything; you’re so good to him. You went to so much trouble for him and he has no idea why. 
You can’t do this. You can’t treat him like a thing to be cherished and then take it all away. Toji just wants things to go back to how they were that morning, with you feeding him berries and syrup drenched pieces of fluffy pancakes, giving him teasing kisses in between each bite, asking what his plans were for the day as he lounges in your lap, wondering what he did to deserve to be so content and full and happy. You made him so happy.
“Shit.” Toji sniffs; he can feel them coming but can’t stop the tears leaking from his eyes. “Shit.” he curses again, bowing his head until it’s resting against your tummy again. “You can’t…you can’t leave me. I won’t let you. I won’t let you abandon me. I can’t-”
“Toji, calm down.” Your voice softens considerably. “Look, do you understand why I’m upset with you?”
“I know, I know I fucked up okay?” Toji croaks, still clinging to your legs. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? I already said I would do anything you want, so just tell me!”
“Sh, come on, breathe. I need you to calm down, alright?” You bend at the waist slightly, to card your fingers through his damp hair. “Okay, I believe you. I do. I believe you, Toji.”
“Are you gonna kick me out still?”
“No, I won’t for the time being. We can sit down and talk about-whoa!”
Toji wastes no time; he has you lifted off the ground in his arms. You quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders as he makes a beeline for the stairs.
“Slow down!” You glance backward in disbelief at how easily he bounds up the carpet steps. “How are you so strong? Don’t drop me, okay?”
But Toji doesn’t answer; he practically bolts, finally reaching the next level, races down the hallway until he’s at the door to your-the bedroom he and you share. Toji’s heavy boot easily kicks the door open, somehow without breaking it off the hinges; in record time you’re on the bed, but shockingly, Toji doesn’t start stripping you down.
“Toji?” You ask tentatively; he seems fairly out of it and you can’t help feel worried. “Toji, what are you doing?”
“Baby, I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed, huh?” 
Toji kicks off his boots, gently sits you down in the middle of the mattress among the fluffy pillows and the cheap plush bunny he won for you at a crane machine. Nearly hyperventilating, Toji climbs into bed after you, snatches the sheets and comforter to wrap around the two of you in a soft cocoon. Toji grabs you, cradling you in close as he tries to even out his breathing; for a fleeting second you wonder if this is what stuffed animals felt, if they could become sentient, when children held them tight for comfort. Your attention is brought back by the man rubbing his face into your hair insistently, as if he could tell your mind had briefly wandered.
“Hey, are you-?”
“Don’t make me go.” Toji cuts you off hoarsely. “You love me, right?”
“I do.”
“Say it.”
“I do love you.” You confess sincerely, words muffled slightly due to your face being squished into his chest; his heart is beating a mile and minute. “I was hurt, alright? I want to be good to you, Toji. You have to let me though; you’re not the type to dance around an issue. I just want you to be honest with me and yourself.”
“Yes, yes, I want that. You’re so good to me, baby, thank you.” Toji wraps his legs around yours; if there was a way for you to mold into him he’d make it happen. “Can I move my stuff back in?”
“I…” You hesitate. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”
“What? No we aren’t. If anything, we're not moving fast enough. Are you still thinking of leaving?” Toji grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him; his eyes look crazed. “You’re not right? You just fucking said you loved me-!”
“Hey, hey.” You put your hands over his gently. “If you really meant what you said before, you have to listen and be good. Can you do that for me?”
Toji nods quickly. You smile for him, finally, and it's a sight for sore eyes. How do you always look so pretty? Toji’s chest throbs and he hugs you, making your ear press against his heart; you can hear it, right? It almost stopped dead when you were glowering at him, Toji still can't believe he was so close to losing this. It's not going to happen again.
“I wanna touch you.”
Toji separates from you as abruptly as he had squeezed you to him; he hovers above you, tugging on the band of your shorts, your panties. He groans pitifully when you still look unsure. Toji hikes your legs up until your ass is pressed to his chest and he’s face to face with your pussy, still covered up. That won’t do: wordlessly, he rips the seams of your shorts apart and pulls your panties to the side. Gently spreading your pussy lips with his fingers, Toji makes sure to look you in the eyes while he lets a long trail of spit trickle from his tongue to your exposed clit. 
“See?” he licks a long strip over your slit, salivating at the taste. “I’m drooling for it, just like a dog….heh, I can be your dog. Is that what you want? I’ll fetch and roll over and beg.” he traces his tongue around your swollen clit. “All you gotta do is ask.”
You can barely form words, forget making requests, as Toji slobbers, licking and sucking until you’re dripping wet. Your hands grip the pillows and your head rolls back and forth; you can hardly speak and you’re more squealing than moaning when Toji starts using his fingers to fuck your soaked pussy.
“I’m loyal too. You’re not ever getting rid of me.” 
Toji pulls back, kisses and nips the inside of your thigh as he watches his fingers disappear inside you over and over again. He’s smiling down at you, dumbly, in a daze as you let out soft cries with every pump of his wrist, every time his thumb rubs a touch too hard on your clit. He’s the only one who gets to see you like this, composure gone, face flushed, eyes wide, hardly able to do more than moan and whine at his touches. Toji’s smile turns devilish; he purposefully pulls his fingers out and shoves them back in to draw out the squelch sounds from how wet he’s made you. He slowly drags his fingers out all the way and you inhale sharply from the sensation.
“It’s my turn to spoil you.”
Toji lowers your hips down on the sheets and quickly shrugs off his sweatpants and underwear; his cock bobs when it’s released and you’re a bit shocked at how hard he is despite not touching himself.
“Let me fuck you.” Toji rocks his hips, cock over the inside of your thigh. “You still want me, right?”
And if you think he’s going to stop at one round, if you think for a second one time is going to be enough and you somehow still plan to have him out on his ass, maybe you don’t know him. Toji’s fingers dig into your ass; he’s rutting now, throbbing and dripping precum all over you and the bedspread. It brings a twisted grin to his face, like he’s marking his territory. After all, this is where he belongs. If you won’t be persuaded by his touch and words alone, Toji has other ways, he just doesn't want to resort to making you afraid of him. 
Because he meant exactly what he said: you're not getting rid of him. If you try to, Toji will just come back. If you run, he'll chase, if you hide, he'll come looking. You've made him into this.
“’M being good, yeah?” Toji lowers his head to your chest to slobber over your nipples next, barely able to speak with his lips sucking and his tongue flicking over them. “I can keep making you feel good, just let me fuck you, let me put in in, let me wreck you-”
“Toji, I want to ride your cock tonight.” You play with his hair and kiss his jaw. “Can I?”
Toji doesn’t hesitate; he throws himself back to lie on your pillows, getting even harder as your scent hits him. He licks his lips in anticipation as you straddle him, stroking him once before lining the tip up with your pussy. Toji’s eyes roll in the back of his head as you slowly sink down, clenching tight; he has to grab at the sheets and force himself to be still, has to keep telling himself this is for you, he’s going to go at your pace and show you how good he can be, obedient and careful. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and he loves it-
“It almost hurts. You're so hard.” You gasp when you’re fully seated on his cock. “Oh, Toji…are you going to cum soon?”
“Nah, don’t worry about that baby.” Toji grins up at you, face flushed and hands shaking as they cling to the pillowcase. “So good…it feels so fucking good when I’m all the way inside. Go on, use my cock to cum, ride me until your pussy can’t take it.”
You tilt your hips so the tip of Toji’s cock rubs against that spot that makes you see stars and your clit gets rubbed against him with every thrust. At first you have your hands over his chest, but when Toji tries to slide his hands up to grab at your tits, you stop him.
“Huh?”
“No, you don’t get to touch me.” You pant out, gently but firmly holding Toji’’s hands above his head. “Tha-that’s your punishment.”
Toji’s brow furrows; he’s practically pouting. He knows he said "anything", but he wants to touch you so badly. Your tits look good enough to eat, nipples slick and begging to be played with, and your skin feels like silk on his fingers. Toji watches, biting the inside of his cheek, tasting blood when you start bouncing, thighs taut and face contorted in pleasure as you get closer and closer to making a mess on his lap.
“Baby,” Toji groans. “Come on, let me, you’re close right? It’ll feel better.”
“I can cum like this.” You say playfully as you tap his pursed lips with one finger. “You said you'd be good.”
“Just wanna touch you....” Toji’s hands twitch but he doesn’t shake off your grip; he raises his hips and you let out a whine. “Please?"
You stop moving and Toji grits his teeth, staring at you with wide eyes. 
“Hey…why did you stop?” 
“Sorry,” You smile in genuine delight. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”
“Fuck, keep goin’,” Toji nibbles the tip of your finger before you pull it away. “Come on, keep making my dick wet,”
“So cute.” You cup his face and press a long, loving kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Toji, I really do.”
Toji can’t stop himself; he yanks you down, traps you in his arms and thrusts up. 
“Ah!” 
“Sorry, ‘m sorry baby. I gotta,” Toji slurs. “Ah fuck it.”
You shriek as Toji flips you over; he has your legs spread and lowers his face down to suck and kiss and bite at your breasts, slamming his cock as deep inside your pussy as he can go. He briefly touches your hair, patting your head as you scream and writhe, smiling down at you so warmly even as his cock splits you open.
“Can’t help it. Need it, need this so fucking bad.” 
Toji latches onto your neck, sucking so hard you think he might tear the skin; you cry out and your nails accidentally scratch long, red lines down his back and shoulders. You’re clawing and sobbing, completely overwhelmed underneath him. He’s fucking you like an animal with no regard for pacing or rhythm, holding you down and open for him to slam his cock inside your swollen little pussy. Toji straightens up to grind himself into you just the way he knows you like best, gently rubbing away at your clit, smirking at the way you gush around his cock. You’re so pretty like this, flushed and messy for him.
“Tell me again. Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum so hard your legs shake.”
“Love you,” You gasp, arms wrapping around Toji’s bulging neck, drawing him in closer; you press kisses over his cheeks, nose, chin. “I love you, I-ah!”
Toji is done being patient; he keeps his thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it harshly as he grinds his cock right into that spot, deep and hard; you’re never going to forget how his cock feels. Toji kisses you none too gently, lips prying your mouth open as he shoves his tongue down your throat; he really doesn’t even mean to be rough this time. The desire to devour you is overtaking him. 
He’s so close. Your pussy’s soaking, his head’s spinning; just before Toji’s about to cum, you muster up enough energy to hold him back tightly and pet his hair, moaning softly into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist. Toji wanted to last longer, but it’s too much. Abruptly, he breaks the kiss and his mouth goes to your jugular; Toji swears he can feel your pulse under his teeth.
“Cum inside me.” You plead, whimpering into his ear. “I want it…want you, Toji, no one else.”
“Shit.” Toji presses his forehead to yours, hiking up your thighs; the bed is creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”
Toji goes rigid and still as he cums, cock suddenly painfully sensitive; when you smile tiredly and kiss the palm of his hand, actual tears well up in the corners of his eyes. It’s all too much. He didn’t know he could even still feel like this, feel much of anything anymore. You shudder from his hot cum gushing inside you, but Toji doesn’t pull out just yet and you don’t seem in a hurry to move him anyway.
“I think you broke my dick.”
“...pardon me?”
“Pretty sure your pussy drained me dry…fuck.” Toji chuckles tiredly, very slowly pulling himself out, smiling in satisfaction as his cum seeps out of you and onto the sheets. “Did you like that?”
“I loved it.” You tell him softly, just beginning to catch your own breath as Toji uses his shirt to gently wipe you clean between your legs. “Toji?”
“Yeah?” Toji tosses his shirt somewhere and lays over you. “You want me to get you something? I bet you’re real tired after that.”
You pause; you look very serious all of a sudden, all business once more. “Toji, we really should talk about ‘us’. I don’t think we can just return to what we were.”
“What? But you said you loved me.” Toji raises his head to glare at you. “You’re not seeing other men, so put that idea out of your fucking head.”
“That is not what I meant!” 
“Okay…what is it then?”
“I was going to say, are you sure this is what you want?” You ask carefully, looking into his eyes. “Is this really what you want?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Toji can’t believe you even have to ask; he frowns and clicks his tongue impatiently. “Fair warning, I’ll find you if you try to leave before I wake up.”
“I don’t doubt it, you’re an excellent tracker.”
“I mean it.” Toji mumbles into the crook of your neck, his heavy arm over your stomach. “You run, I’m hunting you down.”
“I wasn’t planning on making a grand escape; I was thinking something more along the lines of breakfast in bed.” You suggest and smile at the way Toji’s visibly perks up. “Oh, have you had dinner yet?”
“No, I came straight here from the gym.” he lies, eager to have you fuss over him. "I'm really hungry..."
“I’ll order in something; what do you want?” 
“Anything, just get lots of it.” Toji squeezes you. “But don’t go yet though. Wanna stay like this a little longer.”
“Whatever you want.”
In minutes, Toji is snoring and curled up in your sheets like a tuckered out puppy; his leg even kicks randomly. When he wakes up to the smell of warm food and your nails gently scratching his scalp, Toji yawns with a groggy smile and opens his mouth for you to feed him, licking crumbs off your fingers greedily. You really do spoil him. 
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months
Note
Doctor Charles who starts doing teeny tiny gestures to show maybe he’s not such a dick and actually cares about you
A/N: Good ole Dr. Charles who is cold but warm with you
It was another hard shift, one where you just wanted to quiet your job. Dr. Charles was on the night shift with you and you couldn't help but cast glances his way. After that night where he forced you to sleep, you noticed that he was going easier on you than anyone else.
The others didn't like it, but you always stepped in when he went all Dr. Devil and he'd calm down and apologize leaving your coworkers in shock at the fact he'd go all nice whenever you were around. "Here," Jumping you open your eyes to see Charles sliding a protein bar your way.
"What's this for?" You ask, opening it and taking a bite. "You need to stay awake. Also, noticed you haven't eaten all day." He mumbles and passes off a chart. "Should put your glasses on." You pass, which has Charles turning, squinting at you. "Why?" "Your handwriting is atrocious right now, noticed it gets worse the more your eyes get tired. Here," You slide his glasses out of your pockets and hand them to him.
"You left these at the last trauma." Charles just nods, and gently takes them and slides them on. "Thanks," He turns and walks off leaving you with a slight blush.
--------------------------
"Dammit, just can't you work!" You kick your med cart, as you couldn't get your simple insulin out for your regular. "Stop," Charles rushes over and grabs your foot as you go to kick the cart again. "I just want my stupid insulin for Walter." You snap, as Charles gently steps back with you.
"This is my trick for this one." Charles moves and shoves the drawer in and lifts up before pulling it back and revealing your insulin. "How'd you know that? Don't know many doctors who pull their own meds." You move and grab the vial.
"I did my internship here when I was a newly graduated medical student. Would help the nurses." You stare at him like he's grown another head at the reveal. "What? I was nice, once." Charles moves and closes the draw walking off.
---------------------------
He couldn't help but watch you as you helped a kid who was in an accident. He loves watching you work, ever since he let you take that nap he refused to see you that burnt out again. Especially when he's the one that caused it. Charles wanted nothing more than to see you smile all the time, he knew what the other nurses called him and he could care less as long as you were smiling at him.
Charles didn't even know he was moving until he was behind you and smiling at the boy. "Hi there, I'm Charles." The kid smiles as you clean his wound. The boy was crying but seemed to stop seeing Charles. "What's your name?" Charles pulls a stool over and sits down and starts cleaning the other scraps.
"Andy." The kid whispers and Charles nods, "I like that name, how old are you?" Andy smile and pulls his hands back showing he's 5. "5? That's a great age, I remember being five. I really loved cars." Andy giggles and moves closer to charles. "I like red cars," "So do I!" Charles and Andy laugh and you have to stop yourself from melting as you get Andy all cleaned up and transferred to Peds.
"Hey, Charles?" Charles turns as he waved off Andy. "What's up?" You take a deep breath and smile. "Will you go on a date with me?" You wait as you see Charles smile grow wide. "Yeah,"
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winkwonkwankwenk · 3 months
Text
Good Boy (Virgin!Choso x Fem!Reader)
☆*: .。.Wrote this a while ago but didn't post here. Check my Ao3 to be updated first when I post oneshots!!.。.:*☆
Word count: 1.5k
SFW/NSFW
☆*: .。.Summary .。.:*☆
You teach Choso how to touch himself- and you.
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Something’s wrong.
You had just come back from grocery shopping but you weren’t wearing what you left out in. Your hair is down, tight shorts clinging to your rear but not covering your thighs. You bend over to set down the heavy bags, mumbling under your breath about how he should’ve helped you bring things inside. You’re not actually mad at him, you just love seeing him purse his lips together and pout. You turn around, expecting him to be fidgeting with his hands per usual but instead you find him in tears.
“What’s wrong?” You tease, pointing to the tent in his sweatpants. “Aww, do you need help with that?~”
Choso wasn’t used to his half-curse body, hell, he barely understood his human one. He didn’t think about it often, the two of you were normally too busy on missions to exchange more than quick kisses or glances. You had been dating for a few months, a word still foreign to him. He had always been close-knit, but he never saw himself in a romantic relationship. Nevertheless, he was happy to be with you. Now, during a peaceful period, the two of you were supposed to be having dinner together and watch a few movies. That was the plan, not what was happening now.
“I-It’s not supposed to…” Choso trails off as your fingers brush against the front of his pants, his hand trembling as you place it on your breasts. “Feels…weird.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to touch yourself.” You whisper in his ear while sliding into his lap on the couch, keeping him straddled with your hands. You lick your lips in anticipation
His eyes widen when you pull his pants down, exposing his throbbing length to the cold air.He’s so hard his tip is stiff, the veins in his cock peeking from his shaft. He looks away, face as pink as his dripping tip. His cock is a little over half the size of your forearm, as wide as your wrist. He’s shaking, face flushed, lips parted as your hand wraps around his cock. You leave wet kisses down his neck then move to his lips, sucking a strangled moan out of him as your hand moves down his length. His cock twitches in your hand, dripping precum and his scent. You grin as he groans, stroking faster until white spills from his tip. You keep going, faster, harder, squeezing his thick cock until it shoots his load. He can’t think, mind a melted mess of lust and love as he returns your kisses with equal fervor. Hot, he’s burning, your touch setting his body ablaze. 
“Y/N~!” He’s gasping, squirming as his cock spits up again. “Hnngh~!”
“Two times already…does it feel that good?” You tease, sucking his bottom lip until it’s kiss swollen.
“Good, so good, please~!” Again, again, again, all he can do is coat your hand until it’s sticky and slick from his semen. “Y/N~!”
Choso slumps down the couch as you milk a clear load out of him, panting, crying as pleasure sparks and pops around his body. He’s a mess, purple eyeshadow dripping from his lips as his hair sticks to his face. 
“Feeling better?” You nip his neck, eliciting a sharp gasp. “Good boy.”
Dammit, he’s hard again.
“Y/N, i-it’s back-”
“Fix it yourself this time, do it how I showed you.” You smirk as he looks up at you with hazy eyes, leaning down. “You can do it.”
Choso gulps, hand wrapping around his cock as he stares at you. You’re perfect, so pretty. The way your lips move when you say his name, God- your voice, so smooth. His hand moves as quick as his heart but it’s not as good as yours, not as soft. His brows furrow as his cock pulses in his palm, oozing out nothing but a clear liquid that reminds him of slime. He moans as you bury his face between your breasts, your hands massaging his scalp as his thumb circles his tip. A familiar heat swells in his stomach and he whines as his cock shoots a blank shot down his hand and your stomach.
“Good job.” You coo into his ear, caressing his warm cheeks as he catches his breath. “Now you know how to do it yourself.”
You giggle as he clings to you, not letting you leave the couch. You were going to go get something to wipe his hands but you can’t leave him like this. You kiss his forehead, whispering praises in his ear as he whimpers, cock limp in his hand. He’s never felt this good, never been so at ease. Choso nuzzles your neck, a soft smile on his face as you hum. He doesn’t sleep well but he always manages to get a full night’s rest when he’s with you, his eyelashes fluttering as he drifts off. You can’t even slip away while he’s sleeping, his iron grip holding you close.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
It’s been days and he can’t stop.
Every time he sees you he has to lock himself in a bathroom and jerk off, rubbing himself so hard his wrist hurts. He can’t help it, not when you look at him like that and touch him so gently. Even now, he’s missing a mission to cum into a toilet while thinking of you, pretending your lips are on his and hand around him. 
“Choso?” You’re back. Too soon, he can’t let you see him like this. “Are you home?”
“Nnh- N-no…not home.” He muffles his moan with his free hand, leaning against the wall.
You giggle as you push the bathroom door open, smiling as Choso attempts to slink away. You pin him to the wall and kiss him, pulling his tongue into your mouth. His hips arch into your hand as you stroke his shaft, eyes rolling back. This is what he missed, what he needed. He can’t finish, not by himself. 
He needs you.
“Y/N~” He whines with a quivering voice. He’s biting down on his scarf, crying while cumming. 
“Good boy, good boy~” That’s all it takes for him to crumble and slump against you, “Do you like that? Do you like being a good boy?”
“Ye-anngh~”His words slur together as his body trembles from his orgasm. 
You turn around, bending over the way he likes and spreading your legs. You look back at him, slipping your skirt down and watching his half-lidded eyes widen. You're wet, your juices trickling down your legs. Choso can’t help but stare, hand slowly reaching out to your cunt only to pull away. He shouldn’t do this, not until you tell him you can. His cock aches but he can wait, he’ll always wait for permission. 
“It’s okay, you can touch.” You smile sweetly as he steps closer, hand sliding between your legs to pull his cock between them.
“G-Good~” God your thighs are amazing, plush like pillows. He rocks his hips against yours, hands burying in your thighs and holding them around his member. “Feels good~”
“Put it inside, it’ll feel even better."
Choso groans as he presses in, your walls clenching around him like a suction cup. He doesn’t know how to describe this, how to process this in his foggy mind. Your pussy is a ring around his cock, squeezing and sucking it back in when his hips move back. His tongue traces around your neck, leaving trails of his spit. Your moans echo in his ears as he thrusts faster, his fingers digging into your hips so hard they leave behind marks. Tight, so tight- so warm, so wet. 
“G-Good boy- Choso~!” You cry out as he hits your G-spot, back arching. 
He angles his thrusts, spreading your legs apart further as he frantically thrusts. His lips find yours, savoring them until spit trickles down your chin. Messy, he’s so messy when it comes to you. His cock spills load after load in you until your stomach swells, stuffing you with his fluids until they ooze out. His eyes dart to the bulge in your stomach, worry wandering into his mind. Is he too deep? What if he’s hurting you? You don’t sound hurt…you sound like you’re in heaven. 
“Y/N, I’m going to keep going.” He rasps into your ear, pressing down on your stomach and grunting as he feels his tip twitch. 
He doesn’t stop for hours, pounding into you fast and hard until your pussy is pouring a cocktail of your juices. The bathroom reeks of sweat and sex, the scent only heightening his arousal. He flips you around on the wall, twisting his cock inside you in the process. He doesn’t want to see the back of your head, he wants to see your face as he fucks you, watch your legs spread and squeeze around him and watch the “O” shape your mouth makes. 
“Choso~!”
That’s what he likes to hear. 
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Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!! Reblogs appreciated!!
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k-hotchoisan · 6 months
Note
HI BABES MY LOVE MY DARLING I AM HERE TO REQUEST dammit i hate that it goes from my other acc tho ):<
BUT 13 PLSPSLPSLSPSLSPXLSPXPSLXPSLDPDPSP LUCKY NUMBER 13 AHAHAHA
also congrats on 500 babes you deserve the recognition and more <3 <3 <3 xoxo love u
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13. San choking you while riding his orgasm or Deny Yunho’s orgasm?
HELLO MY ANGEL MY BABY MY DARLING MY SWEETPEA YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND ✨ this was a tough choice btw got me sweating a little.
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Where you decide to pull San’s strings on how long he can last through the stupid bet he made with his friends of not cumming for the whole month of November.
Warnings: smut, pwp, choking kink, cream pies, oh boy this got me hot and bothered, unprotected sex, pent up sexual frustration
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff (message me to be in taglist!)
K’s 500: this or that: masterlist
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You thought it was so fucking ridiculous when San stops cuddling and being physically intimate with you because why?
He made a bet with his members on winning No Nut November.
It is so ridiculous, especially when you see his eyes fucking sparkling when he tells you that Mingi was the first one to lose. Then Wooyoung a couple days later.
But as the weeks sink in, so does his sexual frustration. It had been 15 fucking days since he held on, but he was genuinely about to snap, especially when you are around him. Especially. You’re getting annoyed with his little shenanigans and his stupid fucking bet because fuck, you needed to be dicked down. But obviously, compared to San, you knew clear as day, who had the better self control. But you wanted to see how much longer he could take—especially in the state he’s in right now, and especially when you decide to be suggestive.
The night started off as normal—San coming back from practice, and you walking past him dressed only in a silk tank and shorts that pretty much could come off as panties from how fucking short they are. You’re drying your hair with a towel as you greet your partner like any other day you do, before giving him a peck on his lips, and San makes the mistake of letting his eyes lower to your chest, staring at the way your cleavage dips down and your nipples perking out from the thin fabric.
He stares after you as you make your way to the bed, dropping yourself comfortably as the pants hike up even higher. San swallows hard and he tells himself not to think too much into it, but also, since when did you own that set of lounge wear?
He showers and leaves the bathroom half naked before only fitting on his sweats as he joins you in the bed, his eyes still locked onto how loose the top looks on you.
“How was your practice?” You ask, as you look up from your phone to meet his gaze.
He blinks for a spilt second and shrugs. “It was okay, I guess. I’m feeling more confident.”
Your lips curl into a smile as you put your phone down and wrap your arms around his biceps. “That’s great, babe. I know you’re always doing your best,” you hum as you lean in, pressing your body weight onto his arm. San’s brain is starting to go haywire when he feels your almost bare tits just pressing onto him. He swiftly glances at the way your tits push against each other when you’re on his arm and it takes all of his strength to hold back and not to pin you down (especially since he hasn’t had an orgasm for two weeks now).
“I had such a rough day, you know. Boss was such a bitch…” you start after pulling away. San tries to listen intently, like the good boyfriend that he is, as you blabber about your work, but he can’t stop fucking staring at the way the strap of your top hangs off your shoulder, and more of your chest is exposed as you’re being animated about your day, your hands moving dramatically as your words flow in and out of his ears because he’s too busy watching your tits bounce as your nipples are pressing against the uselessly thin fabric.
You pout when you realise he isn’t listening and you climb onto his lap to get his attention, knowing damn well that he’s slowly getting hard.
“You’re not listening, babe”, you whine, your hands cupping his cheeks. San forces a laugh. No doubt you’re being so adorable right now but San is definitely beginning to lose his rationale when he realises that you’re not wearing any underwear. He cups his larger hands over yours and kisses your palm, stroking your hands gently.
“Apologies, Angel. Just had a tiring day at practice”, he replies as he closes the distance between the both of you. You giggle, before pressing your lips onto his, and he immediately caves in. But the moment he wants to part your lips open, you pull back, leaving him confused and, pretty damn hard. You go back to using your phone, completely disregarding him. His hand slips around your waist, pulling you to face him. You only smile in response before turning away, and San basks in the way the pants you wear hugs the curvature of your ass a little too well.
“Could you give me a massage, babe? My back is sore from being stuck in the office all day”, you ask, looking over your shoulder. San easily complies, confident that’ll get his mind out of the gutter.
Oh how wrong he was. Every time his presses against a sore spot, he has to bite his cheek when you groan and moan. He fucking swears that you’re doing it on purpose. It doesn’t help when you request him to go down your sides, and it takes all of his self control to just not grab your tits.
His final strings of self control and rational completely snaps when you turn around and your top had slid down so much that your nipples were pretty much just peeking out from the fabric.
You eye him up and down, watching the way he’s just fucking you with his eyes. You surprise your laughter.
“Why not just fuck me if you’re just gonna keep staring like that?”
You sit up, reaching to kiss his jaw.
“Come on, you know you want to, Sannie.”
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He stares up at you as you slowly sink down on his cock, taking him inch by inch, and his hands squeeze against your hips.
“fuck, you’re so fuckin tight”, San groans, feeling his cock push through wall of muscles which are squeezing around him relentlessly. He fucking swears that he’s gonna just cum just being inside you but no, not yet. It would be such a fucking waste if he did, especially when he hasn’t had the chance to fuck you so good for two weeks.
“And why’s that? Oh right, because you wouldn’t fuck me”, you hiss as you feel his fat cock completely stretch you out. He’s filling you up so good and you’re already seeing stars. You tilt your head back, relishing the feeling of being filled to brim after so long. His cock twitches in you and you sigh in bliss.
San can’t come up with an answer, mostly because you were right and partially because he was deep inside you and his mind is doused in frenzy.
You lift your hips and drop, and your fingernails leave scratches on his chest as you hear hisses leave San. The moment you begin bouncing on his cock is when he really starts losing his fucking mind—whenever your cunt swallows him up, his mind goes completely blank, only dopamine filling every crevice of his brain as he watches the way your tits bounce when you’re riding him.
“Sannie, you feel so good. So big”, you whimper as he meets your thrusts with push of his hips, completely knocking your breath away.
“Fuck!” San curses, somehow managing to find the strength to overpower you, and towering over you, letting you fall onto the bed, now resting on your back, all with his cock still in you, as he locks both of your wrists above you, using his legs to leverage himself while he fucks you into the bed. He steadies himself well enough that his free hand is around your neck, and he contracts his fingers, cutting off the oxygen as he pounds into you mercilessly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the only thing you’re feeling is his cock driving in and out of you. Broken moans are leaving your lips and San is staring down at you, swelling with pride when you’re withering so fucking good from the pleasure that you’re just taking whatever he’s giving you. Fuck the bet. He wants to make sure you’re so full that you’d be leaking for days on end when he’s done.
“Just like that baby, keep taking my cock like the good girl you are”, he coos, making sure every stroke he gives your cunt is so deep that you feel his balls pressing against your ass. Tears streak down your face and you’re blabbering incoherence whenever he releases his grip on your neck. He begins rutting into you, and he’s completely lost in bliss—desperate to chase his high.
The fucked out expression San wears makes you more aroused and you feel your stomach tighten, and when San hits the pretty spot in your tight little pussy, your cunt convulses, and before you could even process it, your orgasm hits you so fucking hard and you completely go still, eyes rolled back, seeing the fucking galaxy, as you cream all over his cock while riding out your orgasm.
“Oh my fucking god, babe. Are you fucking kidding me? You’re gonna send me to the heavens at this rate,” he grits when he cock gets squeezed even more.
His hand still around your neck, he pulls you back to face his face, making sure he milks your orgasm clean. He curses another “fuck”before he sees white spots, his turn to still into you pressing his body weight onto you, tightening his grip around your neck, watching you sob from the overstimulation as he lets ropes of cum just spurt into your abused cunt.
“Fuck me, babe. Look at how much cum is for you”, he moans, jutting his hips periodically, emptying himself into you, his cum filling you up so much that it begins leaking out of your hole even when he’s still in you.
“So good. San, I’m so full”, you sob, holding your legs up, making sure to hold as much of his cum as you could in your small cunt. He releases his grip on your neck and the oxygen burns in your lungs. You catch your breath, your body spasming slightly as San pulls out from you slowly, and his cum leaks out to your inner thigh.
“Damn. I can’t believe I’m the third to go down”, San sighs once his high teeters off.
“Please, you never stood a chance”, you scoff. San turns to face you, his eyes narrowing, before he has you under him again, his hands pinning you down as you feel his thighs push your legs open once more.
He dons a smirk before he presses his bare, hard and cum-covered cock onto your wet entrance. You gasp as your gaze flutters up to meet his.
“I don’t think you’ll stand a chance for the next few rounds I’m gonna give you, baby. You’re asking for it.”
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gallusrostromegalus · 1 month
Note
I must ask how my Most Favorite Boys, Jushiro Ukitake and Shinji Hirako, are doing in AEIWAM?
When Shinji returns to his post as Captain of the 5th after his exile, he is DETERMINED to not repeat his past mistakes and actually get to know the shinigami serving under him. He needs... Some kind of event, something people will voluntarily attend, where they'll tell him about themselves, and with a bit of structure because he is an awkward sod, and social interactions need RULES, DAMMIT-
"Now hang on-" says Shinji after staring at the blank office wall in silence for the last thirty minutes. "-that's not a bad idea!"
"...Is he okay?" Lieutenant Momo asks quietly.
"Oh yeah, he's always a little freak. Talks to himself and gets a lot out of the conversation." Also Lieutenant Hiyori nods. "You don't need to worry until he breaks out the craft supplies."
"He just pulled out a bunch of markers and construction paper." Momo pointed to their captain as he scribbled furiously on the paperwork he was ignoring.
"Aw. Fuck." Groaned Hiyori. "Well this is gonna be cringe as hell."
***
A few nights later, most of the fifth division assembled in the auditorium, slightly confused, but they had been promised there would be no additional work from this meeting, and there was an open bar, so they were in figurative and literal high spirits.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Fifth Division, welcome to TONIGHT'S GAME!" A cheerful and showman-like voice called out over the speakers, and the stage curtain rose to reveal a brightly colored game show stage where there had not been one before.
"Tonight's lovely contestants are- all the way from payroll, it's Fifth Division Tenth Seat Tenya Danshin!" The voice called out as the familiar face of their payroll and scheduling manager trotted out onstage and took his place behind the first of three podiums. There was some scattered and genuine, if confused applause from the audience.
"He's Big, he's Bad, he's just a little Bizarre, he's Josuke Araki!" The voice continued as a notably tall and muscular member took his place behind the middle podium with a wave and broad grin. There was more clapping and a few cheers this time.
"Currently being dragged onstage by my lovely assistant, it's my second favorite Lieutenant, Hiyori Sarugaki!" The voice continued as Hiyori was wrestled onstage and behind the third podium by Momo. The audience whooped and snickered at the spectacle.
"FUCK YOU, YOU FREAK!" Hiyori roared, flipping off the audience and the figure behind the final podium on the other side of the stage.
"I'm your host, ME! I've been here the whole time!" Grinned Shinji, dressed in a rather snappy three piece suit and holding a microphone. "WELCOME, all my lovely division members and Hiyori, to Tonight's Game! Now, you all know how to play, right?"
"Um. No. Sorry sir." Muttered Tenya as Josuke shook his head.
"You didn't tell us shit!" Hiyori growled.
"That's RIGHT!" Shinji's Cheshire Cat smile shined under the spotlights.
"You see, I wanted to get to know everyone in the 5th a little better, and there is nothing quite like a game show to get people to reveal some truly startling sides of themselves, but playing the same game over and over would be boring! So, every night we play Tonight's Game, the game is a different game than last time, and the contestants will all start with blank slates!" He explained, entirely too pleased with himself. "So- the only way to win is by learning, the only way to learn is by playing, and the only way to begin is by beginning, so without further ado- Momo, will you please bring out THE LIE DETECTOR."
The small curtains at the back of the stage opened, and Momo rolled out a cart with a strange device covered in dials and switches with a long antenna and a large lightbulb on top.
"Thank you Momo! Now, the clever bastards in the 12th whipped this up for me so I have absolutely no idea how it actually works, but I am assured this is the latest cutting-edge in Veracity Technology. Let's turn it on and try it out! Tenya-!"
"Yes, sir!" Tenya snapped to attention. "No need to be formal, I'm only your host, not your captain right now." Shinji waved. "Tell me Tenya- Do you have any children?"
"I- Um, my wife and I have three children, two little boys and our infant daughter?" He stammered, confused.
DING! The Device charmed, light bulb lighting up bright green.
"That is CORRECT!" Shinji grinned. "You get a point!"
There was another chime as the screen on the front of Tenya's Podium lit up and displayed a "1".
"Oh, I see!" Laughed Tenya.
"Josuke!" called Shinji.
"Capt- Host?" Josuke stopped mid-salute.
"Very good! Tell me Josuke, do you live in the barracks?" Shinji asked with genuine interest.
"Uh, no. I live with my Mom." Josuke shook his head.
DING! Said the device.
"That is Correct!" Shinji nodded approvingly. "You get a point as well!"
"Oh, so, every time we tell the truth, we get a point?" Asked Josuke.
"Very quick on the uptake my friend!" Shinji winked. "Of course, as the game goes on, the questions are going to get much harder to answer Truthfully..."
Oooooooh! Gasped the audience, invested now.
"What happens if we lie?" Wondered Tenya.
"Even if we did- how would he fucking know?" Hiyori rolled her eyes.
"You can try it and find out!" Shinji grinned with more than a hint of Menace. "Hiyori! It's your turn!"
"Ugh. What?" She groaned.
"Tell me, When is my birthday?" Asked Shinji.
"I don't know and I don't care." She smirked, sticking her tongue out at him.
BZZRK! The Device buzzed angrily, and the light flashed red. OHH! laughed the audience.
"What the FUCK?" Yelped Hiyori.
"Ooh!" Shinji winced, thoroughly enjoying himself. "I'm afraid that is INCORRECT! According to the screen back here, you spent the better part of THREE MONTHS tracking down a specific part to repair my sound system and traveled halfway across the planet to deliver it personally to me on my birthday. So not only do you know, you DO care, and for that I'm afraid I'm going to have to dock you two points."
Hiyori's screen lit up and displayed a "-2"
"WHAT THE HELL?" Hiyori wailed. "You didn't even see me when I gave you that Banana Plug or whatever-!"
"I did not!" Shinji grinned. "-but The Device knows, and is infallible!" "That's terrifying!" Tenya laughed nervously. "Alright contestants, the questions are going to get harder now, so consider your answers to them carefully." Shinji warned, a finger up to his lips. "Contestants- does any of your underwear have holes in it?"
"...Can we refuse to answer on the grounds it might get us in trouble?" asked Josuke.
"Yes! But you won't get any points for that round, and you may not win our Lovely Prize this week. Speaking of- Momo! Will you please show our contestants what they're playing for this week?"
Momo emerged from backstage with a large, blank sign, which she turned over and held over her head for all to see.
AN EXTRA WEEK OF PAID VACATION
OHHH! exclaimed the audience, with a few audible mutters of Damn, a whole week? and How do you get on this show?.
"ALL MY UNDERWEAR HAS GOT HOLES IN IT!" Shouted Josuke, now with heavily-motivated enthusiasm. Laughter exploded out of the audience, thoroughly entertained.
DING! chimed the device, and the score on Josuke's podium went up.
"Josuke taking an early and shameless lead!" Beamed Shinji, delighted that his plan was working. "Tenya?"
"I-ah, I don't think so?" Tenya blushed. "I bathe the kids and get them ready for bed while my wife does the laundry." He tried to explain.
BZZRK! The Device contested, red light flashing and the audience howled with laughter.
"Uh-oh, that's Not Correct!" Grinned Shinji. "According to the device, a significant amount of your clothes have holes in them, and you don't notice because you get dressed in the dark. You didn't outright lie though, so you will only not get a point instead of a deduction."
"WHAT?" Yelped Hiyori, outraged.
"Yeah, that's fair." Tenya winced. "Seriously though- where does this thing get it's information from?"
"...Hiyori?" Shinji leered playfully at his lieutenant.
"Yeah, it's all got holes. They come that way- Two for my legs and one for my torso." Hiyori snarled.
DING! agreed The Device.
"That is *technically* correct, which is the BEST kind of correct! You get a point!" Shinji cheered, and so did the audience.
"FINALLY!" She shouted, but her eyes narrowed with competitive enthusiasm.
---
The game continued for an hour, with a mix of group and solo questions, but equal chances to score points awarded to all contestants. Josuke was shameless but ill-informed, causing him to fail several rounds, Tenya was honest even as his face flushed red and he crumpled behind his Podium. Hiyori did her best to be only as honest as she had to be, and as the game continued, they came to a three-way tie.
"Before we begin the final round-" Shinji said, intoning a gentle sincerity. "Contestants, you've been so honest with me. Like. Alarmingly Honest with me. So I need to be honest with you- I do know how The Lie Detector works."
There was a scandalized gasp from all three contestants and the audience.
"Okay- I *sort of* know how The Device works." Shinji admitted. "I don't know what 'Wiffy' is-"
"YOU MEAN THE FUCKING WI-FI?" Howled Hiyori.
"Oh, like you know how it works!" Shinji glared.
"It's using a radio frequency to transmit Data instead of an electrical pulses like internet usually does." She scoffed. "-AND I KNOW HOW TO PRONOUNCE IT!"
Shinji glared. "...I should deduct a point from you for insubordination."
"You can't do that, you're the Host, not the Captain!" Said Josuke cheerfully.
"Yeah, unless Host is a Military rank, it's arguing, not insubordination."
DING! Agreed The Device.
"DON'T GANG UP ON ME!" Shinji wailed. "Fine, fine. Anyway, I might not know how Why-Figh works, but I *DO* know how the device knows if you're lying or not. Would my Lovely Assistants please come to the stage?"
Momo emerged from backstage, wearing a labcoat and holding another device with an antenna that matched the Lie Detector, followed by a middle aged woman holding a Baby, an older woman, and Mashiro Kuna.
"Akkiko?" Tenya yelped, and his wife laughed manically.
"MOM??" Wailed Josuke.
"MASHIRO??" Hiyori bellowed, jumping up onto her Podium. "YOU SOLD ME OUT?!"
"FOR A BAG OF CORN CHIPS!" Mashiro cackled.
"YOU DIDN'T EVEN PAY HER?!" Hiyori howled at Shinji.
"She was gonna do it for free! I talked her UP to a bag of corn chips!" Shinji protested. "But YES! You've all been deceived! Hoodwinked!Bamboozled, even! Which brings us to our Final Question!"
The crowd roared with excitement.
"I started this game because I wanted to get to know everyone better- but I have to ask, how well do YOU know each other, and so I must ask you all if you know these people as well as they know you?"
There was a loud OOOH! of intrigue from the audience.
"Just to make it extra-exciting, all of these questions will be worth up to three points!" Shinji grinned, then slowly turned to the first Podium. "Tenya."
"Oh god." Tenya laughed nervously.
"Your lovely wife. You've been married for ten year now, so you theoretically know what she looks like, right?" Shinji teased. "So, for a potential three points and week of paid vacation- Do you know what color Akkiko's eyes are?"
Akkiko giggled, turning around as Tenya leaned as far forward on his Podium and squinted at her. With a deep sigh, he slumped over the podium in defeat.
"...I do not." He groaned and Akkiko cackled.
"That is CORRECT!" Shinji cheered.
"I'm not good with colors." Tenya tried to explain. "-this morning I actually asked her what color MY eyes are."
"YES! That's what I was waiting to hear!" Shinji shouted, pumping his fist in the air. "All three points!"
The audience cheered loudly.
Shinji turned to the next contestant. "Josuke."
"Oh no." Josuke giggled.
"What is your mother's favorite food?" Shinji asked.
Josuke stared blankly.
"SURELY you are not living in your mother's house and NOT COOKING FOR HER, are you?" Shinji asked with no small amount of menace.
"You're never going to get married if you can't cook!" Tenya nodded in agreement.
"I COOK!" Josuke protested. "...sometimes." he added, cringing.
"-So. What do you make for your beloved mother, who works so hard taking care of her adult son?" Shinji teased.
"LOTSA STUFF THAT'S WHY I DON'T KNOW!" Josuke wailed. "I COOK KATSUDON, I COOK RAMEN, I COOK CURRY, I COOK OMURICE- I EVEN LEARNED HOW TO COOK WESTERN FOODS LIKE LASAGNA AND CHILLI CHEESE DOG-! DING! Went the device, Josuke's mother holding the radio.
"Was your favorite in there Mrs. Akari?"
"Yes! I like Chili Cheese Dog." She smiled. "I always eat seconds!"
"YOU ALWAYS EAT SECONDS OF EVERYTHING I COOK I DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE YOU LIKE THE MOST!" Josuke wailed.
"That is also true! He is a very good cook! And single!" She nodded up at Shinji.
"-And he's single!" Shinji grinned at the audience, some of whom whistled back. "Three points, for your culinary skills! Which means we have a Tie!"
The audience tittered with speculation and excitement.
"...Hiyori." Shinji grinned.
"You're a dead man as soon as you sign off on my vacation time." She glared.
"I mean, I can end the game right now." Shinji wagged his finger at her. "-But I can't resist the opportunity to humliate you. Now, You and Mashiro have been living under the same roof for longer than Josuke and Tenya have been alive, so to be fair to them, I'll ask you about someone you've met more recently but should still know pretty well-"
Hiyori squinted at him.
"-What is Momo's Favorite Animal?"
"What?" Hiyori laughed. "-Everyone knows it's Penguins!"
"Really?" asked Josuke. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah, I didn't know that either and I've served under her for decades now!" Said Tenya.
"What? How do you guys NOT know that?" Demanded Hiyori. "Her phone background is a Rockhopper Penguin, she's got a Fairy penguin squeeze toy in her desk for really long phone calls and she's always talking about wanting to go to the Tokyo aquarium in the living world to see them in person! She's even got a HUGE collection of penguin plushies in her r-" DINGDINGDINGDINGSING!! rang the Machine as Momo furiously pressed the button, face red as a beet.
"Wow!" Shinji smiled. "I'm surprised! You seem to know Miss Hinamori really well!"
"Uh, duh? We're colleagues." Hiyori rolled her eyes.
Momo sighed with relief.
"Interesting! Follow-up question- What's Mashiro's surname?" Shinji asked.
Hiyori blinked. "...uhhhhhhhh..."
"You heard Kensei yell it at least six times a day for the last century you jackass!" Laughed Mashiro.
"UHHHHH..." Hiyori paled, and the audience roared with laughter.
"Hmm... I seem to remember you pretending you didn't care about my birthday, and yet, you do- For you to remember her favorite animal and in such detail, Momo must be VERY IMPORTANT to you!"
The audience giggled Momo turned scarlet again and slowly crumpled into a ball. Mashiro vibrated with excitement beside her.
"Yeah?" Hiyori glared at Shinji. "She's the smartest person in the whole damn division and does half your job for you? If I win, I'm giving the week off to her just to watch you flail around without her! No wait- I'll set up the webcam and we can split the week off, go to the aquarium AND watch Shinji squirm like a worm an a-! Uh? Momo? You okay there?" She asked, finally noticing Momo laying on the floor, borderline catatonic with embarrassment.
"This is FASCINATNG!" Shinji grinned. "You are apparently so immune to embarrassment that you have somehow made it bounce off you and target Momo!"
"What's to be embarrassed about? I like her okay?" Hiyori blinked. "She's great! I wanna work with her forever!"
Shinji leaned forward on his elbows, chin in his hands and stared at Hiyori, positively vibrating with excitement.
"What?" She glared.
"You are. SO CLOSE. To comprehending something." He said, wide-eyed and delighted. "It's fascinating to see someone on the precipice like this."
Hiyori stared blankly at him. clueless.
"So you like Momo. We've established that." Shinji said, attempting to throw her a bone. "H- how do you think Momo feels about you?" Hiyori slowly lowered her gaze to Momo. The entire audience watched in hushed fascination as Hiyori frowned at the situation, thinking hard-
"...Momo?" Hiyori's voice was suddenly nervous. "Do you- have I just been annoying you? Becuase I can stop-"
Momo Hinamori was abruptly on her feet, crouched atop the Podium, fists balled in the front of Hiyori's shushako, pulling the blonde's face up so it was mere inches from hers. "HIYORI SARUGAKI YOU ARE THE MOST INFURIATING WOMAN IN THE UNIVERSE!"
"Fuck!" Hiyori yelped. "I'm really sorry, I'll- I'll leave you alo-"
"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO DO, MISSY!" Momo continued, grabbing Hiyori's face. "YOU'RE WINNING THIS GAME, YOU'RE SPLITTING THE WEEK OFF WITH ME, YOU ARE GETTING A HOTEL IN THE LIVING WORLD AND THEN *I* AM GOING TO-'
In the videotape of the game that mysteriously appeared in the ninth division later that week, the next forty-seven seconds of sound had been obscured by a single, loud, continuous "BLEEEEEEEEEEEEP!" sound, but Mashiro was visibly looking up some of the terms being shouted on her phone, Josuke's mother sprinted up to cover her son's ears to no avail, Akkiko was pointing between herself and Tenya with excitement, and Shinji's jaw fell so far open it looked like it had become unhinged from his skull.
"-AND IF EITHER OF US CAN WALK IN THE MORNING, THEN WE'RE GONNA GO SEE SOME PENGUINS!" Momo finished, staring Hiyori down with a terrifying blend of romantic fury and bloodthirsty lust.
Hiyori stared up, wide-eyed and expressionless, face clearly offline as she underwent several psychological and spiritual awakenings before her she slowly broke into a slow, stupefied grin "Oh you like-like me!"
"...Yes." Momo sighed, deeply pained and affectionate at once as the audience howled. "You're okay with... all that?"
Hiyori saluted Momo with an enthusiastic "-Yes, SIR!"
"NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M FUCKING TALKIN' ABOUT!" Shinji whooped with joy, jumping up and down, the audience on their feet with applause. "POINTS AND VACATIONS ALL AROUND, AND FOR BEING THE *MOST* HONEST, THE WINNER OF TONIGHT'S GAME IS MOMO HINAMORI!"
The audience cheered wildly as Momo scooped Hiyori up like a princess and carried her backstage.
"THAT'S IT FOR TONIGHT'S GAME!" called Shinji over the din. "GOODNIGHT EVERYONE, AND GOOD FUCKING LUCK!"
---
As for Jushiro Ukitake, he appears on a special guest episode of Tonight's Game with fellow Captains Soi Fon, Byakuya Kuchiki and Retsu Unohana to play "Never Have I Ever" and *that* episode is widely considered to be one of the most scandalous and unhinged of all the games on Tonight's Game.
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