#for good i’d want to take it and stick around just long enough to hear how much they’ll cry about it before i fuck off

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

people begging me to do something to make a certain someone happy aren’t taking into account that i hate this person and i will revel in the knowledge that i kept them from getting the most perfect version of what they wanted. in fact i hope they mourn the loss of this for the rest of their life and die unhappy about it

[blkkizzat]

❝DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY!❞

⏯ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER

⏭ summary: your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? college au.

⏭ cw: virgin!satoru, gentle sex then rough sex , spanking (ass & pussy), slight sugar daddy/baby dynamic, coercion, dubcon, ecchi/pervy/freak nasty satoru, apprehensive bimbo!reader scared to nut, reader is also a bit of a tsundere brat but this isn't brat taming per se, oral fixation, toe licking, riding, prone bone, missionary, pussy eating, deep-throating, forced gagging, fingering, squirting, edging, olfactophilia, hand-job, protected & unprotected sex, bdsm references, masturbation, bit of somnophilia, pet names: Bunny (reader is called that in lieu of y/n), suggestions of geto x reader, mentions of satosugu and shokohime.

⏭ a/n: in my crack smut bag again cause this white haired demon wont let me rest until i write this nasty shit. fr tho this fic 13.3k and literally 10k of it is Gojo fucking you six ways to sunday. fyi this is the same y/n from nerd!geto but this is a different version of that AU where suguru is the one who has rizz and satoru is the nerd. y'all better read this or i'll never write gojo again istg lmfao. also shoutout to @halosdiary for beta reading and telling me it was good enough to post lol.

eta: y'all won. its a series now lol

“FUCK YEAH, LET’S GO!!! I ALONE AM THE CHAMPION OF THE DIGITAL WORLD!!!”

Startled by Gojo’s sudden outburst—you nearly rolled off the bed. 

Thankfully Suguru is sitting next to you and caught you before you fell off completely. 

Fully energized by his win Gojo sprang up from his elaborate PC setup, bouncing around the room in celebration. Fist-pumping the air he couldn’t contain his excitement after winning the Tokyo Regional Qualifiers for the Digimon Online TCG. 

“Guys, hey guys! See! I told you I’d win! I’m the strongest! The digidestined!”

You and Suguru exchanged exasperated glances before side-eyeing the hell out of Gojo.

This went on for a good 10 minutes so you had since returned to mindlessly scrolling TikTok, not wanting to encourage your grown-ass-almost-22-years-old-best-friend’s excitement over a children’s game.

“You sure showed those middle schoolers, Toru.”

Suguru quips with a smile. He’s clearly being sarcastic but Gojo is unfazed—nothing could damper his mood.

“Damn straight I did!”

Both you and Suguru have to chuckle, rolling your eyes at his childish enthusiasm. 

Despite the shared sentiment of annoyance over your best friend’s hobbies, you both were just happy to have Gojo back again. Two long years had passed since his parents made him travel the world on a rotation program, tasked with visiting the various Six-Vision Industries offices he would one day inherit. 

Being the nerdy genius he was, Gojo stacked a mass of university level credits in high school. So even with missing the first two years of college he’d still be joining you as a third year at your university come fall. 

After being apart for so long it was refreshing to hang out again and kicking it at Gojo’s mansion had been a daily occurrence since the start of the summer. Although things had definitely changed in the two years Gojo had been away there was one thing that certainly hadn’t.

Gojo was still a fucking huge otaku nerd. 

You’d thought his time spent in the business world would have matured him. However, being abroad, away from his friends and spending all day around the ‘stinky old fogeys in suits’ as he called them, only made him retreat further into otakudom. 

That much was evident as his collection of posters, figures and manga had somehow only seemed to grow even with him away. 

“Alright, while I just would love to stick around and hear more about you destroying the dreams of 12 year olds Toru—beach girl just texted me, gotta bounce!”

Suguru tries to leave but Toru clings onto him practically spider monkeying himself onto his back in an effort to get him to stay. 

“Sugu! Don’t leave! We’ve already been apart from each other for too long~~”

Sighing, Suguru attempts to pry his incorrigible bestie off of him.

“Satoru, you just spent the last 5 hours playing Digimon acting like me and Bunny weren’t even here. I’m sure if you go back to playing you won't even miss me.”

Gojo continues to pout as he whines for Suguru to stay.

“But I miss you already Sugu!”

Gojo presses his cheek against Suguru’s as Suguru’s eyebrow begins to twitch.

“I know! Invite your date here! Our chef is 10 times better than any restaurant you’d go to and you know we have an infinity pool grotto and onsen!

While the offer was tempting as any potential date would be thoroughly wowed by the decadent splendor that was the Gojo Family Residence—Suguru would also thoroughly cuck himself once his date was given the grand tour. 

Particularly the stop which included Gojo’s anime figure and otaku memorabilia rooms. 

While a good number of them were harmlessly nerdy shonen or slightly ecchi isekai figures—the rest? Well the rest contained every kind of freak nasty hentai figure you could think of—shibari, futanari and even the classic La Blue Girl tentacle dioramas—it was like a horny museum. 

Although at this point it should be considered a horny mausoleum as no woman who walked in would be walking out still in the mood—it was surely a place where horny went to die.

“Uh yeah, sure next time Toru….”

Suguru reaches back to pat Gojo on the head reassuringly. 

Lying as he was more than certain there wouldn’t be a next time. There wasn’t even going to be dinner—this was purely a hookup situation. 

“...but she’s already waiting for me outside my place—gotta run!”

Realizing Gojo still wasn’t letting go, Suguru sighs realizing this would require him utilizing his Judo training. 

In one swift movement, Suguru manages to shoulder-wheel Gojo and toss him onto the other side of his massive bed. The bed rebounds as he lands, slightly lifting you off your belly but you still are more interested in your phone. 

This isn’t the first time Suguru has Judo thrown Gojo off of him (likely wouldn’t be the last either).

Saying quick goodbyes before Gojo could recover, Suguru manages to slip away.

“Traitor!!! So much for bros before hoes!”

Utterly dejected, Gojo crawls up next to you on his massive bed.

“At least I still have you here Bunny.”

“Uh, not to pile on but you know I’m only here until Shoko and Utahime text me they are ready to go to the mall, right? I’m in dire need of a new handbag!”

Now clinging on to you Gojo throws another small tantrum as the weight of half his sinewy body presses into your back, his lean muscular arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“Not you too, Bunny puhleeease!”

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers so it wasn’t odd for you, him or Suguru to be found giving the others platonic cuddles like this—often all together too. The both of them were always so much bigger than you so you often enjoyed the comfort and security of always being the filling in the cuddle sandwich.

Gojo rests his chin on your shoulder watching as you continue scrolling TikTok. You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before his irritatingly hyperactive nature gets the best of him, and he starts poking around your phone to click on other videos that weren’t the 'mystery and makeup' ones you were watching.

“Toru, you know you could get a lot of your own hoes to hang out with if you weren’t such a huge otaku nerd…”

You had to swat Gojo’s hand away again as he tries to click on another prank video and he rolls off of you with a frustrated sigh. 

“...you’re almost as good looking as Suguru…”

Muttering the last part of that under your breath. Arguably Gojo’s features were just as if not more striking than Suguru’s. 

He was too hot himself for all of it to go to waste for being such a big dork.

“I’m sure Sugu would be happy to teach you ‘the way of the fuckboy’ if you asked Toru—that is if you’d actually go out clubbing like a normal 21 year old.”

“Why would I do that though? My house is 100 times better than a club!” 

Touché. 

While no one in your friend group was what someone would consider poor, Gojo’s wealth paled in comparison to anyone else’s and that went without saying. He’d had everything—if not more—than even the nicest tokyo club had. This was all thanks to his parents as socialites in their own right, often entertaining businessmen, dignitaries or foreign representatives with their ultra-exclusive parties.

“Besides, it wouldn't work—”

Gojo continued to pout.

“—Suguru would just get all the hoes anyway.” 

Easily able to walk up to even the most standoffish looking women, Suguru would have them reduced to bashful school girls in under 5 minutes. The women were always willing to hand over their numbers or drop any immediate plans to hang out with Suguru instead.

A good number of them had boyfriends already too.

Yet despite having the looks, Gojo opening his mouth ruined any advantage his lustrous blue eyes, exotic snow white hair and sharp handsome features gave him.

“Well, Suguru has a normal 21 year old’s room for starters, Toru. Not full of nerdy ass anime posters and Digimon tournament trophies.”

Gojo goes quiet. 

Driven from an early age to fill his head with knowledge of politics, technology, and international business relations, he spent the precious free time he did get with his friends or consumed by his own interests. Interests which just happened to be a bunch of otaku shit—Digimon in particular. 

It was an escape he’d cherished as a child and that didn’t change growing into adulthood either, if anything he needed it more now.

When Gojo doesn’t answer you look over to see him actually sulking for real now—face buried in a giant Agumon pillow plushie. 

What a crybaby. 

But the crybaby was one of your besties so you decided to lighten the mood and tease him a little.

“Ya know Toruuuu….you could just fuck Sugu then. Don’t think I haven’t seen y’all get a lil’ handsy during our cuddles!”

You give him a playful smirk and mime grabby hands at him.

“Oh and you haven’t? Don’t act like you wouldn’t fuck Suguru either!”

No longer appearing mopey, Gojo is up and laughing again. Mission Accomplished.

“Hey! I never said I wouldn’t but this isn’t about me, this is about you finally getting some play!”

You snap back but you’re blushing.

Like damn, who hadn’t thought about fucking Suguru though? 

“It's not the same if he makes me bottom! Plus no one thinks I can get pussy!”

Gojo grumbles, hugging his Agumon plushie to his cheek. 

You can’t help but notice how cute and baby girl he looks all pouty. 

He’d definitely get women lining up around the block of his huge ass mansion if he could at least get to the dating phase without giving out the otaku ick. 

“Because you can’t Gojo—Hoes don’t want to fuck guys who play Digimon!”

“But you’re a hoe and you like digimon too!”

Turning to look at him, you’d had half a mind to slap the shit out of Satoru but he had said it so earnestly. There was no sass nor malice behind his words. 

Besides, you were a hoe. That wasn’t something you ever denied.

You sigh. 

“Yeah I am a hoe now and I—keyword—liked Digimon. But that was back when I was a kid, Toru!”

Gojo scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Listen, you’re my friend so m’gonna keep it a buck with you—a guy concerned with being digidestined is definitely not pussy destined, you digidork!”

You playfully hit him with the pillow you were laying on, not wanting him to start sulking again. 

Finally stimulated by something interesting Gojo wastes no time joining the pillow fight you initiated and you tussle with him on the bed until you both are exhausted and out of breath. 

Of course you come out of it victorious though. By the end you’d pinned both the pillows and Toru under you. 

Gojo however is back to pouting.

“Ugh, Bunny seriously though—I can’t go into junior year of college as a virgin!”

You smirk at his complaints as the answer is obvious.

“Throw away your figures and digimon cards then.”

“I’d rather die.”

“A virgin? At this rate you will.”

Gojo huffs in defeat as you settle comfortably on top of him this time. 

You’re about to reach for your phone again until you see a curious look flash across his face—the kind of look he always had as a kid when he thought of a hair-brain scheme that would lead to getting you all in trouble.

“Toru—what is it? And why do I have the feeling m’not gonna like it?”

You pull away cautiously, but his large hands grip your waist, stopping you and causing you to squeak in surprise.

“Hm, I dunno—was just thinkin’... why don’t you fuck me, Bunny?”

Your deadpan expression has Gojo scrambling, holding you closer in a vice grip when you try to squirm away. 

“Hey! Wait, I’m serious! Come on, Bunny! I need the experience and you always tell us about all your hookups! You have the experience—help a guy out!”

Staring at him skeptically you considered.

I mean sure, you always thought Gojo was attractive, more so since he returned this summer nearly a half a foot taller—but he was Gojo Satoru.

Your dorky, goofy, pervy otaku bestie practically since birth! 

You couldn’t just go and fuck him could you?

God, you could only imagine the taunts you’d get if word got out. Your friend group would never let you live it down! 

“Nah Toru—that would be too weird!”

“Huh, how come? You said I was almost as attractive as Suguru earlier!”

You stiffen.

Fuck, he’d heard that after all. 

“Ooo, ooo! Annnnd, you said last week you wanted a sugar daddy… Well, hi! I’m right here!”

The huge grin on his face has you frowning although more so because he was actually making some sense for once. I mean you were half-joking when you said it—well, let’s be honest not really. 

However, you mostly said it because while your family was well off enough, you still weren’t living in the lap of luxury by any means like a Gojo clan member. Unfortunately for you though, you were born with the expensive tastes of someone who was. So while you could afford a cute Chanel bag or a MCM wallet here or there, you’d set your sights on something higher—a coveted Hermes Birkin. 

Toru certainly could afford to buy you a whole truck load of them with what his family made in less than an hour. 

Nevertheless that wasn’t really the issue at hand. 

In spite of you being far from a virgin, there was actually a good reason why you wouldn’t be a good choice for Gojo to lose his v-card.

“Er, em—that’s really not the issue, Toru…” 

Trailing off you’re the one pouting now as you glance at your nails. 

“Then what? Don’t tell me our lil’ Bun Bun is shy now? Over lil’ ol’ me?”

Gojo teases you by sticking out his tongue—chuckling when you snap your head up to glare at him.

“You wish…” 

You grumble, chewing your lip now and debating whether or not to tell him the truth while Gojo looks at you with wide and glassy puppy eyes. Shaking your head you come to the conclusion you could trust him with your secret. 

He was the virgin otaku after all—he’s the one who should be embarrassed here!

“It’s just that…I–I can’t cum.”

Gojo just blinks at you. 

Clearly confused with metaphorical question marks surrounding his head as that's definitely not the answer he was expecting.

“I’ve slept with plenty of guys before but I never had an orgasm. I don't even really get close—I mean, sure, it feels good, I guess—mostly just a little weird. I heard some people just can’t and maybe that's me.”

You shrug, a bit nervous to look Gojo in the eye as you thought he may tease you further about this but was lost in contemplation. Almost as if he was seriously trying to do the biological math around what you’d just told him.  

After about a minute more he finally asks—

“—Does Suguru know?”

A simple question, unloaded in tone as Gojo is genuinely curious but it leaves you flustered nonetheless. 

“What?! Are you crazy?! Why would I tell him?!”

“Just figured if anyone could then—”

“—Hell no, Toru! Besides, what if he does? I’m not trying to be reduced to a fuckboy’s pick me if he ends up being the only man alive who can give me an orgasm!”

Sure Suguru was hot as fuck—as was a lot of your other fuckboy friends (Toji and Sukuna)—but you definitely didn’t want to end up like the dickmatized girls that would follow them around and literally box each other in the streets over some cock. 

You weren’t much of a fighter anyway and your face was far too cute to be getting scratched up.

Pussy should be put on a pedestal, not the other way around. You’d continue to be orgasmless before it came to that.

“Mm, but Shoko and Utahime know?”

You’re blushing more than ever this time.

“Um, yeah—T-They said once I realized all men were worthless to call them and they’d give me multiple of them.”

Gojo snorted at that but he was now convinced you both could help each other. 

“So we have no other options—then it's settled!”

In one fluid motion Gojo snatches away the pillows from between you and swaps positions—now with you on the bottom.

“Huh–wait—Toru!?”

Gojo groans.

“Come on, Bunny! I want pussy, you want to cum on top of getting that Bikram bag—

“—Birkin bag.” 

You corrected him.

“Yeah that one! So let’s help each other out, eh?  PULHEEEASEEE—Just the tip?”

You weren’t at all convinced that Gojo—whose sexual knowledge came purely from JAV, hentai and onaholes—could make you cum.

But then again sure, fuck it, why not?

You were getting bored waiting for Shoko to call you anyway and if Toru was willing to come off a Birkin for a lil’ pussy, you might as well fuck him. 

None of the other guys you had fucked even came close to making sex this worth it. Frankly this would be worth it even if you didn’t actually cum.  

“Fiiiine Toru, let’s have sex—”

“FUCK YEAH!”

“—BUT we’re laying down some ground rules!”

Sitting up with a straight back, Gojo obediently awaited your orders.

“Anything you want Bunny, name 'em go’on!”

Gojo’s overenthusiasm was like a puppy and you were sure if he had a tail it would be thumping on the bed like crazy now. 

You wanted to crack a smile but you know from prior experience that if you give men an inch they will take the whole goddamn mile—and Gojo of all people was no exception—so you are firm as you sit up to look in his eyes and lay down the law.

 “First—like you said, just the tip.”

Gojo started to protest but the raise of your eyebrows had him changing his tune immediately.

“Got it! Got it! Just the tip would be amazing Bunny, what else?”

He chided himself and you continued.

“And secondly, just because you bros have no loyalty, it’s still ‘chicks before dicks’ over here. You better get your nut quick cause I’m still leaving to go purse shopping when Shoko and Utahime call me.”

Gojo waves you off with that rule. 

“Psh, we should have plenty of time, it's almost 6pm! They’ve probably been too busy bumping their own purses together to go shopping with you for one. You haven’t heard from either of them in hours!”

Fair point—wildly out of pocket, but fair. 

Still. 

“Bumping Purses!? Really, Toru?”

“You know I’m not lying—but that’s it then, right Bunny?”

Not waiting, Gojo throws his shirt off and starts fumbling with the ties on his sweats before you stop him.

“Nah, Toru, hold your horses! One more rule!”

Freezing mid-action, Gojo's hands are shaking as he expectantly gazes at you, waiting for the last condition before you give him the green light.

“Finally, third—and most fucking importanly—if you make any, and I mean even just ONE—otaku reference, especially Digimon while you’re inside me I’ll snap your lil’ digidick off, understood?”

Gojo swallowed. 

Hard terms to live with but something he would be willing to abide by for pussy.

“Yes ma’am! Got it! Just the tip, you will ditch me for the purse bumpers and no Digimon!”

Gojo repeats your rules matter-of-factly. 

You roll your eyes but are satisfied enough he understood and you wave him off in the direction of your bag.

“Good. Now, be a good boy and go get a rubber out of my purse.” 

Bolting over to your purse Gojo grabs a pack of condoms and is back on the bed in an instant.

Reality sinking in on what you were about to do and who you were about to do it with, you suddenly become hyper aware, appraising Gojo. 

You note just how much in the two years since high school he’s grown. Still a bit lanky in areas but overall he filled out more for sure and his muscles were much more defined rippling underneath his skin as he eagerly clambered over you. Gojo still possessed the same piercing sky blue eyes that lit up a room but they looked all too predatorily hungry now that he was hovering over you. 

You swallow.

You’d feel almost completely out of control of the situation if it wasn’t also for the bundle of nervous energy radiating off of Gojo—his hands spasming like he might bust his pants the moment he touches you.

You try to maintain your composure, but your jaw drops and your eyes widen in shock when he finally pushes his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion.

Gojo was fucking huge!

“Toru—what the actual fuck?!”

Third leg was a massive understatement. 

I mean you didn’t think he’d be small—you’d been around him enough in boxers, sweats, pjs, etc growing up—but you didn’t expect this. 

He was definitely a grower and Christ did he just fucking grow!

Gojo looked puzzled until he followed your wide eyed gawking down to his lower half. 

Heh. 

“Am I the biggest you’ve seen, Bunny?”

Growing prideful Gojo pokes at you a bit and your ogling only grows more incredulous. 

You didn't know if he was the girthiest but certainly the longest by far. He’d actually puncture a lung if he stuck that whole monstrous thing in you!

It would literally have to be just the tip and you are thanking God right now that he’d already agreed to those terms. That would be much too uncomfortable to cum from and you are beginning to question how the pornstars manage. This wasn’t a JAV but Gojo, if his company ever went belly up, certainly had a promising career on OnlyFans ahead of him.

Gojo’s chest puffed up ten times more from your staring as he slipped the condom on (which only fit two-thirds of the way down). 

“O-Ok, Bunny now you!”

His cock throbbed more violently the longer you looked at him. The anticipation is contagious to say the least and you can't help but feel your chest warm at his eagerness. 

Gojo wants to get the attention off of him and you smile at him knowingly.

“You mean you don’t want to take my clothes off yourself?”

The thought never occurred to Gojo but he dumbly nodded. Your yelps echo in the room as his massive hands are on your hips faster than lighting pulling you towards him. 

The motion causes your tits to jiggle, the soft mounds moving freely beneath your spaghetti strapped halter and Gojo berates himself on how he only now is noticing you weren’t wearing a bra all this time. 

Gojo’s mouth goes dry at your nipples, already peaked and poking through the thin fabric. 

Your nipples pucker further when the crisp air of the A/C hits them after Gojo pulls your top overhead and you arch up to assist, not realizing you presented yourself to him like a treat to a dog. 

“T-Toru!!!!”

Gojo wraps his strong sturdy arms fully around your body. Pressing his face deep into your chest as his warm wet lips latch onto a nipple. His mouth now suctioned to you, Gojo swirls and flicks his tongue around the hardened bud. Gojo moans around your flesh, pleasantly surprised at how addicting the sweet salty taste of your skin is. 

If Gojo wasn’t sure he had an oral fixation before he surely knows now. Zoning out everything else except for the sloppy sounds of him worshiping your breast, he relishes the contrasting textures of his rough tongue suckling the soft skin of your swelling bud. 

Gojo surely would have been latched onto you for hours and you are only able to pry his head away when he releases your nipple with a wet pop to take a breath.

“TORU!!!”

You’re panting and red faced as you yank his head back. 

But Gojo is a man solely focused—tongue hanging out off his mouth captivated by how cutely your areola puffed as it glistened with his spit and fighting overwhelming desire to get the other one in a similar state.

“Huh–Bunny, b-baby—you taste so good n’ your tiddies are so nice—so fuh-kin’ soft.”

Gojo’s tongue is hanging out of his mouth drooling as he attempts to dive back into your chest. you feel his heavy cock on your thigh as his hips begin to rut against you. 

This was too much!

“Stop Toru! You’re being too rough, they are sensitive! Besides, times’ ticking! Remember I have no problem leaving you blue balled if Shoko or Utahime call me!” 

You do your best to give him a disapproving look as you blush.

“Awe but you seemed like you were liking it, you were whining loud enough.”

“Shut up n’just get on with it!”

“Yes ma’am~~”

Enjoying your breasts so much Gojo almost forgot he hadn’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. 

Making quick work of your shorts, Gojo manages to pull them down just over your core but is stunned once again as he burns the image of the skin-melding fabric of the mesh hot pink g-string covering your cunt. The thin satiny straps dug into your supple hips amplifying your curvaceous form.

Fucking slutty as hell!  

Rivaling that of even his most favorite and most scandalous hentai figures. 

This was so much better, so much more lewd as the clingy fabric struggles to cover the fat of your plump pussy lips—not like the transparency of them left much to the imagination. 

God help him, he just wants to tear them off with his teeth and open mouth swan-dive into your dewy lil’cunt—-pushing his tongue deep into your peachy core tongue fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you until he drowned in your milky nectar—but he has to restrain himself.

You probably wouldn’t like that too much given your reaction earlier and he’d die if you’d happen to just call the whole thing off.

Mouth drying and hands twitching—Gojo is trying so hard to be a good boy and contain his more perverted instincts.

“Earth to Toru! Y-You good?”

Gojo looked like a tightly wound coil ready to pop in every sense of the word and you hated that his nervousness was making you nervous too. 

So on edge you almost jumped once his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

“G-Great, Bunny…j-just fine.” 

Gojo’s voice falters, becoming more pitchy and you giggle. As much as Gojo wants to look at your pussy as he peels the flimsy moist fabric off of them he couldn’t do that at this moment—he would actually bust his pants.

Instead, Gojo leans in to kiss you, but you block him. He ends up kissing your palm instead.

“Toruuu… that be too weird, we’re friends remember?”

“Yeah friends who are fucking, Bunny! You mean you won’t let my tongue in your mouth but you’re letting my dick inside your pussy?!”

You knew it sounded nonsensical even before he said it back to you. But your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could barely hear him anyway.

You didn’t know what you were scared of this time? 

You had let all your other previous hookups makeout with you but Gojo was different. 

This felt entirely different.

You didn’t know why, you just knew it was and you were apprehensive of the unfamiliar emotions he was stirring in you and this wasn’t supposed to be anything more than an arrangement between friends.

“Don’t you need to warm up tho Bunny? Obviously m’no pro at this—but even I know a little bit more foreplay is usually needed?”

Your heart beats louder at his concern but you push that aside trying to focus on your breaths. 

Satoru should have been the easiest lay but for a reason that alludes—you were coming undone before him.

“Shut up Toru and just fuck me! The foreplay stuff doesn't matter, it won't make a difference anyway, m’not gonna cum! Also you’re big af so grab your lube. We're gonna need lots of it!”

Toru pouts but follows your commands without fuss. 

Although he’s anxious to get his dick wet he also is still thinking of how he can hold up his end of the bargain other than a stupid purse. 

You said he didn’t need to but he wanted to. 

The thought of finally losing his v-card excited him but there was something that made his cock throb harder at being the first man to give you an orgasm. 

But you don’t want him to touch you beyond what was absolutely necessary, so how was he going to accomplish that exactly?  

Gojo was a genius and had the IQ score to prove it, he’d be able to solve the problem once he was inside you, right? 

Turning back to face you after retrieving the lube from his nightstand, Toru has to grab the base of his cock this time to keep from prematurely coming in the latex that was already starting to thicken with his precum.

There you were laid out like a slut—panties pulled to the side—fingering yourself a bit to loosen up, having reconsidered his suggestion of foreplay when the twitching on your thigh reminded you of how big he actually was.

“OH SHI—”

You notice his jaw hanging open, utterly entranced as his eyes follow the motions. 

You knew you should be letting him do this to get the experience but honestly there was no sense in setting Gojo up for failure—delivering a significant blow to his ego when he inevitably couldn’t make you cum. You didn’t want to damage him even more if he felt it was his fault your pussy was apparently broken, you having tensed up completely every time a guy had tried before.

But you can’t deny you are getting some pleasure—if only through your own amusement—as you grab his cock and pump the lube he poured down his latex covered shaft, still fingering yourself—much to Gojo’s delight and wonder of seeing an actual real pussy up close. 

Gojo sucks in air and groans pitifully as your hand spreads the cool gel over his length which only intensifies his ache to be inside of you. 

“C’mere, Toru…”

You beckon sweetly, guiding him forward with your back against the pillows, you tease the crown of his tip through your folds preparing him for missionary. 

Gojo nearly bites a chunk out of his lip when his thick cockhead finally catches over your slicked entrance and you’re left wincing.

“T-Toru, e-easy—o-ok? Not too deep...”

A breathy confirmation shudders out of Gojo as he’s easing himself into your warm tightening cunt. The stretch is immediate which mentally confirms for you he is also the girthiest you’ve ever had as well. 

Your heels dig into his hips to brace yourself while he hovers over you, arms shaking.

“FUUUUUHHHH—”

Even with the rubber on, Gojo still thinks he might melt from how warm and tight you are—so much better than even his onahole with the custom grip and heating features. 

Screwing his eyes shut, Gojo has to count backwards from a million, recite Japan’s national anthem, list the GDPs of the top 10 wealthiest countries—anything—or he will cum too soon or worse, crack and drive his hips until he’s all the way to the hilt from the way your dangerous lil’ pussy is sucking him in.

God, it felt like your slutty cunt had a mind of its own calling for him to push in a lil’ deeper, greedily begging for him to go a lil’ further but Gojo resists. 

Sweat beads on his brow from the exerted effort of sheer willpower to keep his promise to you.

To Gojo’s credit, he really is doing his best, only a little less than a third but due to his length that's still a lot. 

Your eyes wander up to Gojo’s face and away from where he is wholly splitting you open, lest you clench on him even tighter and you knew you needed to relax. Even if you weren't really feeling much but the overwhelming strain from the tight fit, looking at Gojo you were happy that he appeared to be in bliss at least. 

His eyes still squeezed shut, mouth hanging open and spittle flowing down his jaw Gojo was in his own world as he continuously babbled nonsense about how perfect your cunt felt around him.

Just the tip in you for all of 20 seconds and already pussy drunk from just this much. 

“B-Bunny, Oh SHHIII–B-Bunny—m’cute Bun—FAH-ACK s’gud—m’gonna cum soon UHH–pussy feels s’good—oh-oh my god!” 

Although his entire body is quaking with pleasure, the few functional brain cells that survived the fiery blaze of your sinful lil’ pussy are still thinking of you. 

Gojo tries to give some attention to your neglected lil’ clit, but a single swipe causes your leg to jerk and you promptly push his hand away again.

“N-NO! Pleaseee, m’too sensitive Toru! J-Just focus on your thrusts! Y-You’re s’close, m’can feel your cock twitching i-i-inside me...”

Gojo wants to challenge you on this—suspecting from the way your cunt felt constricting around him you felt something pleasurable then—but he’s too far gone and much too inexperienced to keep focused on anything else. 

Especially when you are so explicitly describing him fucking you. 

Grabbing his face you bring your foreheads to touch to help calm him so he’d last a bit longer. Although you still hold his face to prevent him from kissing you, he's close enough that you're sharing the same breath, now looking into each other's eyes. 

He struggles to maintain eye contact though before the magnetism of your heated core had them rolling back again.

You're still not close to cumming, yet you are beginning to enjoy the warm comforting feeling of being this full as he holds you close, his short thrusts gaining momentum. 

Sharing intimacy with someone you actually cared about for once is really nice and you wouldn't mind having more sex like this even if you couldn't cum. 

Thumbing over Gojo’s moist lips you coo sweet praises to him as he desperately moans around your delicate appendage. Suckling your thumb between his lips and nursing on it until he can no longer contain the heavy breaths that overpower him and fan across your face. 

Sharing the same exhaled breath is making you light headed and you mewl at the keen sensations it stirs in your pussy that has him full on gasping now. Gojo releases the whiniest moan as he falls into you, unable to support his arms any longer. 

Showering your neck with open mouth kisses as his body curls more into yours.

However it all proves far too much when Gojo faltering more in his promise, slips more than halfway into your cunt—instantly filling the latex as it balloons inside of you as you scrape your heels against his back.

SHIIIIIT! He s’big! 

Despite nearly splitting your poor pussy into two at the end though, Gojo did such a good job for his first time. 

You’d forgive him just this once though as you wrapped your arms around his head, gently petting his undercut. His heaving breaths quiet under your soothing touches, finally ceasing the stream of his spit and tears that had been pooling in your collarbone.

Staying like that for a while holding him while his heartbeat calms to match yours and his length softens inside you. You close your eyes peacefully for a few moments before you hear your phone vibrate next to you. 

It's Shoko!

Shoko’s text apologizes for the delays and offers to get dinner instead—promising to go shopping with you and Utahime tomorrow since they got held up and you make plans for dinner in two hours. 

Perfect. That gives you plenty of time to clean up and get yourself presentable. 

“Did you cum even a lil bit, Bunny?”

Oh sweet baby, if you have to ask…You think to yourself but it's not poor Toru’s fault your pussy is out of order.

“Um, no Toru baby—but you did so well! Ya know you’re actually pretty cute and considerate when you get a little pussy. I’m sure you’ll manage to make any girl you happen to get naked happy!”

Gojo counters you with a disappointed look still panting slightly as he pulls out and rolls over bringing you towards him to cuddle. Allowing him, reasoning that you don’t have to get up right this second.

Yoour back meets his chest and it’s then you notice the condom still inside you. Figures since it was much too small in the first place. Yet you couldn’t complain as it managed to do its job due to Satoru not going all the way in. Breathing out you grimace a bit as you still had to give it a pretty good tug to lodge the filled latex out of your sore cunt. 

“Goddamn Toru, you were pretty backed up huh?”

Having witnessed the entire display from over your shoulder and the sight of the light blue rubber covered in your fluids while drooping heavily with his own has Gojo’s dick stirring again as you jiggle the rubber demonstrating its fullness before tossing it into the bin beside his bed. 

Conflicted Gojo broods for a while as he hugs you to him. 

While his body felt mostly satisfied, seeing you still unsatisfied put a huge damper on his mood. 

Sure you had told him you couldn’t come—but would any girl cum without much foreplay or stimulation? 

Even the darker hentais and JAVs he’s seen had more foreplay than this!

Hmmm... 

Thinking over the experience again in his mind he had a hunch that if right could cure your lack of orgasms but needed you to let him fuck you once more to be sure. 

“So you’re gonna hit and quit just like that, Bunny?”

He teases clinging onto you again when you try to maneuver out of his embrace.

“No time for more cuddles Toru—Shoko texted, we’re getting dinner in two hours.”

“Wait! Bunny! That’s so far away—Let me go again, pleeeease!”

Gojo is determined this time to make you cum for real! And, yeah you know—your slick heat sliding up and down his cock again would be a highlight too.

“Toru–”

“—Come on bunny! We solved my problem but we haven't fixed yours, you still haven't cum yet!”

“Toru, I thought we understood we were never going to solve my problem in the first place—so don't stress! Also I know this is probably the first time a girl has said this to you and actually meant it—but it's really not you!”

Gojo puts his negotiation face on. 

You wanted to play hardball? Bet.

“I’ll give you my black card for a whole week!”

Gojo turns you around to look him in the eye so you could see how sincere he was, he really wanted to try again—he knew he could make you cum this time!

You sighed. 

You couldn't really be mad at him—in fact, it was actually the cutest thing—that he wanted to keep trying for your benefit—but you didn’t see the point when it would just lead to the same result. You don’t even need to glance down to see Gojo’s cock was just as resolute as he’s already recovered and fully bricked—length pulsing against your ass. 

Well—given his last performance you were sure he’d last all of five minutes and if you had his black card for a whole week you were about to tear the entire Hermes store up—a Birkin and a Kelly in every color!

Hell, maybe you could even get the coveted baby pink ostrich one. 

“Mmm’kay, Toru—black card for a week! No limit!”

“Yup of course! Oooh no—Wait, no rubbers and I'll let you have my new g-wagon too! I hear raw sex is sooo much better you will cum for sure then Bunny!”

Well you knew a good bargain when you heard it.

Throwing the unopened condoms to the side you laid back down.

Imported European cars are stupid expensive to get in Japan and if he was coming off a g-wagon—especially as it was a custom powder blue matte with dune colored seats and shiny platinum rims—then he could have as many two-minute pump sessions as he wanted.

He’d likely pass out from dehydration in less than twenty tops anyway.

“Okay, but same rules as before except no cumming inside Toru! I mean it! It's too much of a mess to clean up after, it’ll be dripping all night especially all that you came last time…”

The thought of your gooey tender cunt weeping his nut for hours has Gojo’s balls tightening in want of making it a reality—but he knew if all went to plan you’d be begging for it! 

First—he needed you to take a more active role this time. He saw you settled back onto the pillows and that simply wouldn’t do. 

“Um Bunny, can you be on top? I-I’m dying to see what your cute tiddies look like jiggling all crazy like in my face.”

You cover your chest, frowning in offense at his more debauched ecchi preferences but you agreed nonetheless. 

Relenting as it’d likely have him cumming sooner and then you could finally get ready to meet the girls—all in your new g-wagon, although you’d definitely have to make up a lie as to how you scammed it out of Gojo.

Gojo takes your place on the pillows, amused as now it’s his turn to beckon you forward. Steeling yourself, you embarked on your climb to mount him. Tall and lean with wisps of hair sticking to his face Gojo looked more like he belonged in a painting, unnerving you that a face only an artist could sculpt admired your body with his lustful gaze. 

He was too sexy for his own nerdy ass good like this and you failed not to whimper when his strong hands settled at your waist.

Lube in your hand you smirk, gaining some confidence back when you hear Gojo hiss as the cool gel once again spreads down his fiendish girth that pulses restlessly at your touch. The sensation is all the more agonizing without the latex barrier hindering him as your, your silky smooth palm glided over his bare cock before tugging back the sensitive foreskin covering his crown head. 

Licking your lips you almost want to bend down and taste the pre marbling like a pearlescent jewel on his pretty exposed cockhead.

He’d probably cry like a baby if you did, you mused with a grin. 

Good God girl snap out of it! 

You chastise yourself—no, you had to focus and end this quickly before you lost your mind. The idea of fucking Gojo beyond what he could buy for you started to get more appealing and you couldn’t allow that.

Readying yourself to mount him this time you realize your pussy is quivering in anticipation of the stretch—it was uncomfortable last time so—why was your body reacting this way?

Your own pussy betraying you as she seemed to yearn for the opportunity to gobble him up, taking him in with less resistance in spite of you. Flexing around the thick intrusion inside your core you shiver in feeling the curve of every vein on his girthy cock as you lowered yourself onto him.

The way your pussy flexed as a jolt of electricity ran through you scared you—a new sensation bubbling up inside, threatening to make you lose yourself in the feeling.  Must be survival instincts you rationed—your cunt scared for its life never having encountered such an acute danger like Gojo’s dick before.

The burn was pleasurable this time, sucking in sharp breaths at every slight movement of him moving inside your core. Yet Gojo is in even more bliss—from the serpentine motion of your hips cascading over his own to how your your puffy pussy lips looked so wonderfully parted, stretched open around his cock—FUCK!

How was he going to complete his plan if his brain just started turning to mush everytime your dangerously succulent cunt grinded against him.

“O–ooo shiiiiiit!”

“Y-You okay, Bunny?”

Although Gojo himself looked like he was in agony his face was reddening from how good your raw gummy walls were surging around his length.

“Hhnng, fine Toru—y’er j-just big.” 

Gravity was your natural enemy in this scenario and you took him a bit past halfway this time.

Wanting to distract you, his large hands grope your tits but you knock him away—your stomach fluttering. 

“What's wrong, this time?”

“...s’n-nothing, it’s—just put your hands on my hips, it helps me so my legs don't get tired.”

You lied.

Well your legs were quivering but more pressingly your heart started to race and you didn't know if it was because a cock like this could actually relocate your uterus to your lungs or if you’d actually started catching something similar to romantic feelings for Gojo Satoru. 

Either one was unacceptable in your book.

“Hurry up and cum, Toru!” 

However Gojo is about to say something, your phone rings.

“I-Its Utahime…”

“Don’t answer Bunny! Focus or you’re never going to cum!”

“I can multitask, Toru! Besides, on the small chance I do I know it's definitely going to take longer than the two minutes you lasted before.” 

Hushing Gojo’s protests and eyes flaring at him to be silent, you answer the call. 

“Bunny!”

“Hime!”

You greeted each other with your usual peppiness—like Gojo wasn’t 6 and a half inches deep with 2 and half more to go—give or take—inside you.

“What’s up? Oh erm, what am I doing—”

A sly and haughty smile plays on his lips and you scowl at him.

“—I’m still at Gojo’s and no—I’m not doing much at all right now! Haha—yeah. I can definitely talk, of course!”

Gojo frowns as his eyes narrow and to placate him you start half heartedly rotating your hips.

You still looked sexy as hell though. Even with less effort expended it was still a workout as shown by the sheen of perspiration glowing off your body. That delectable sight combined with the light swaying of your tiddies was more than enough for him to cum if he just focused on himself.

But he was determined not to this time, not until you had.

“See Toru? They were helping Shoko’s parents!”

You stick out your tongue and he makes a face back at you.

“Oh what?—s’nothing—Ha! Well ok! He said you were too busy bumping pussies to go to the mall with me! Psh—typical am I rite? Huh—put you on speaker? LOL O-OKAY.”

Snitch! 

Gojo mouths to you offended you’d rat him out like this as Utahime’s voice shrills through the phone.

“Satoru you loser! You have to talk about our pussies cause you could never have one of your own in a million years!”

Snorting with laughter Gojo is more than amused. 

If only they knew.

You pale signaling at him to ‘STFU’ or he could finish himself off.

“Aww, is that so Utahime? I’m so hurt.” 

The mischief in Gojo’s voice is obvious—he’s clearly mocking you.

Annoyed with him getting the upper hand and feeling sassy, you pile on—

“Exactly Hime! I mean he might get some—but a total otaku like him wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if he even ever got in—EEP!”

A heavy handed smack comes down on your ass—hard. 

The force ripples its way into your cunt causing you to feverishly tighten as your tongue pushes a low moan out between your lips.

“Oh ho ho—what's this? You actually like getting spanked huh, Bunny? You dirty, dirty girl…” 

Gojo is whispering again before his hand once more swats at that same cheek.

The sting causes saliva to pool in the corners of your mouth. 

If looks could kill Gojo would have died a horrible death—that is if you could focus enough to even glare at him. You’re absolutely mortified—too consumed by the spanks that fiercely rained down on your reddening bottom, your pussy getting shamelessly wetter with every hit.

“AH–FAHHH—”

“Bunny! What’s happened?!”

You hear Shoko’s concerned voice this time.

“N-N-Nothing, G-Gojo’s being mean to me cause I told on him! H-He pinched me so hard Shoko!”

“Liar!”

Gojo mouths again and his demeanor turns absolutely devilish. 

Oh? So that's how you wanted to continue to play? 

You were such a brat sometimes but then again so was he and his competitive nature soared at the challenge.

“Oh did I? Like this, Bunny?”

Gojo’s  palms cup your tits roughly before he pinches them, twisting your nipples causing the slobber that collected to dribble down your chin and onto your chest.

“Shiiii—T-Toru! S-STOP YOU A-AHHH–SSHOLE!!”

The grip his thumb and forefingers have on your sensitive buds intensifies and you can barely keep the phone in your grasp as you hold it out arm extended to keep your cries from being heard. 

With only one hand free there’s no way for you to worm nor pry his hands from your tits as you are still struggling not to sink lower and choke on your own tongue from the electrifying sensations assaulting your cunt.

This couldn’t be what it was like could it? This overwhelming feeling?

You didn’t want to admit it but as tear-inducing as the sensations were—they felt real fucking good. 

Your hips began involuntary rocking as your core now craved how Gojo’s cock scraped against your walls like it was trying to carve itself even deeper inside you if you’d let your hips drop just a little bit lower. 

“Toru! Stop picking on our Bunny! Don’t make us come over there and kick your ass!”

The sweat that now runs down Gojo’s brow threatens to blur his vision but he’s locked in and focused. The phone situation being so fucking raunchy combined with the way your pussy is creaming on him (despite you trying your hardest not to feel good) has him stressed. 

Swallowing he had to try hard to keep up the act as well as please you without cumming—it would be a feat if he accomplished it to say the very least.

God, this was all so shamefully vulgar. 

Did you do this on purpose answering the phone? 

He didn’t even know this was a kink of his—or yours apparently.

But your “problem” was now clear to Gojo:

It’s not that you couldn’t cum, it’s just that you were scared to cum. 

Any real stimulation triggered your fight or flight. 

You were perfectly capable, you just needed a bit of forcefulness—however the effect of it terrified you and you bolted from it every time you had sex with someone—until now. 

Heh, there would be no more running from the nut for his little bunny rabbit.

Gojo wonders how far into his ecchi depravity he can take you.

“Your Bunny, huh?”

Gojo's eyes squinted as if he could stare down Shoko and Utahime through the phone.

You were his. 

He was the one who was going to make you cum and frankly he didn’t give a fuck anymore if Shoko or Utahime heard it—in fact he wanted them too.

Planting his feet into the bed, Gojo’s form shifts as he swiftly grips your waist simultaneously bringing you down while driving his pelvis up—pummeling his entire length into your guts. The prickly patch of groomed hair at his base tickles your poor abused lil’ clit which had been forcibly nestled into them—the result of being smashed against his pubic bone. 

“FUHCCCK—MUTHERFUHH—SHHHH–HIIIIIT!!!” 

Vision momentarily blacked out and burning with tears mixed with your running mascara, your pussy still reeling from the sheer magnitude of Gojos long girthly length now all the way sheathed and practically tearing through your womb. Your eyes are firmly lodged in the back of your head, the electrifying vibrations cause you to drop the phone entirely. Your world is spinning from experiencing your first small orgasm that only increased intensity as your efforts to escape Gojo are in vain. 

Your cervix is screaming at the probing intrusion of his bulbous tip ramming so far up into you but Gojo has you anchored to him unable to flee from his onslaught of thrusts.

If you could string together a coherent thought you would have wondered if in fact your stomach had been relocated next to your lungs as you felt so full you couldn’t breathe. 

Your pussy violently spasms around his girth, creamy fluids seeping down onto his base from your cunt sloshing around him.  Gojo grips your cheeks spreading you wider increasing the squelching noises echoing from your cunt.

Shit though, Gojo thinks your perfect pussy might actually break his dick off from how fervently you were clenching him. 

Tongue fully lolled out of your mouth, you’re grasping onto Gojo’s shoulders for stability as your saliva drips down his pectorals.

“BUNNY!! Are you still there?? What’s that noise?”

Shoko and Utahime’s calls for you go unanswered. Gojo on the other hand is grinning, albeit through gritted teeth, pleased at how his long trunk-like cock is rendering you nonverbal. 

“Hehe, you definitely came a bit that time didn’t ya—ya nasty lil’ Bunny, don’t lie.” 

“N-N-Nooo T-Toru–s’like I-I c-can’t breathe—”

“Heh, a’course you can baby Bun—that's what it feels like when you cum, even I know that.”

SMACK!

Another firm smack to your ass has your cunt quivering wildly.

You feel like the virgin in this situation now—and honestly—are you not? 

Did those other dicks really count? 

It felt like you were having sex for the first time as this was a totally different experience even from the earlier round with Gojo.

“Don’t worry though, now that I know what kinda shit you’re into—I’mma take care of that pervy lil’ princess pussy sooo good, Bunny.”

Oh god—That couldn’t be true could it? 

Spanking? Nipple twisting? Having your insides pushed up to your throat? 

You didn’t actually like this kinda freaky shit did you?

Yet your body’s reactions remain true even if your mind doesn't want to accept the cause of the fire that is burning within you. Your pussy is in raptures at the feeling of being molded into the exact shape of Gojo’s cock—veins and all.

“HELLLOOOOO BUNNY!!!!”

Absolutely pleased with himself Gojo retrieves the phone.

“Awe p-poor thing, just stubbed her toe runnin’ from me. My—SHIII–room is—FUHHH—k-kinda a m-mess—S-See? I almost tripped just now too. Isn’t that right Bunny?”

Gojo brings the phone closer and you bat it away wishing he would just hang up and spare you the humiliation. Although humiliation seemed to be your new kink as mirroring his earlier actions as you’re pathetically moaning into his skin. Gojo’s masculine scent, mingled with the salty aroma of perspiration, floods your senses, making you feel even more lightheaded, increasing the sloshing of his cock buried deep in your cunt.

The crude noises that rang from your bodies squelching and slapping against each other renders Gojo unable to keep up the charade either. Making up a quick excuse—he has to go get ice for your toe—he quickly hangs up on Shoko and Utahime whose puzzled protests of concern he couldn’t give a single fuck about anymore. 

God fucking you while on the phone with them was so fucking hot, he’d have to get you to do it again—maybe with Suguru next time, he’d probably even be into it.

“Hey B-Bunny—y-you think Shoko and Hime were naked too?”

You groan.

This fucking hentai otaku perv—you already told him that they were helping Shoko’s parents! 

You want to glare, scream, chastise, get up—but you can’t—you’re at the mercy of him ruthlessly drilling up into your cunt and can only heave out tired mewls in reply.

“Fuuuck–imma cum again soon! Do you feel the way your naughty lil’ cunt is squeezing like she wants to wring me dry, wan’t me to give it all to your pussy Bunny?”

“N-Not i-inside m’pussy, T-Toru!” 

A devious smirk appears. 

Heh, yeah he promised not inside your pussy.

Without warning Gojo rips his cock out from your sopping core and manhandles you onto your back. Thinking he will simply cum outside somewhere you're finally able to breathe again and you exhale—only to feel his monstrous length being shoved down your throat.

Your eyes shoot open. 

Greeted with the image of Gojo's heavy balls in your face, his ball hairs tickle your nose as you gag around his girth straining your throat open wide. You think if he didn’t reach your lungs through your guts he certainly would now that he’s eight and a half inches down your esophagus.

“You said i couldn’t cum in your pussy Bunny, so let’s use that pretty lil’ mouth pussy instead—sweet fuck, ya know she’s almost tighter than your actual cunt.”

Your hands fly to the outside of his thighs pawing over the sweat glossed skin as you drag your nails down them, leaving welts in an effort to get him to ease up. The potent musk of your shared lust that had dripped down his balls was now rubbing on your face assaulting your senses. 

It was fucking nasty, so gross and yet your own pussy betrayed you—burning with an ache to be filled again at the smells that stimulated your own primal hedonistic urges.

“Awe, don’t be like that. I know you like it rough, yeah? I haven’t forgotten about you either baby.”

Gojo of course at this point isn’t talking to you but your cunt.

With one hand squeezing your already constricted airway, Gojo’s other snaked its way over your body and reeling it back before delivering a mean open palmed slap to your clit. 

The sound of your soaked cunt echoed through his room and he almost came from that alone as your fluids trickled out of you faster, further soiling his expensive sheets.

“This pussy likes being spanked more than those cherry cheeks of yours huh, Bunny? I know my filthy hentai pussy does.”

You’re obviously unable to answer but the way you’re gurgling moans around his cock lets him know this is exactly what you like. Thrusting two thick fingers into your quivering core his burly appendages bullied themselves in as far as they could go. 

“You know—G-God, FUCK you’re tight—Bunny, you know I read in an h-manga how girls can squirt from a lack of air and a little bit of prodding, s’ppose—S-SHIII—t’be something in here that sends em absolutely wild.”

Fingers searching deeper it's not until Gojo pulls back to add a third that he scrapes past a firm spongy spot that has your legs buckling.

Astonished by the amazingly sexy reactions of your body—Gojo’s eyes are blown out wide over how much your clit swells, your hole twitches and your juices spurt out of you as your tears run over your cheeks to wet his balls further. Gojo doesn’t even need to thrust as your throat tightens around him like crazy with him jamming his fingers into that particular spot over and over.

Lost in your own ecstasy you’re proven wrong as contrary to your belief you thought his otaku sex-ed would be to his detriment to his skills. However it's exactly because of all of the lecherous and depraved shit he collected and consumed did he know exactly what to do to you now that got you all messed up. Eyes lodged into your skull, squirting and practically blacking out with his dick stuffed down your throat on his long dexterous fingers abusing your cunt.

“SHIIIIIIT—”

With a keen grunt Gojo cums, pumping loads of viscous fluid down your throat forcing you to gorge on his thick cum. 

“F-Fuck Bunny are you a throat goat? M-Milked me dry...”

He’s still driving his pliable fingers in and out of you, his arms are shaking from his own orgasm but he doesn’t care. Nothing on earth could stop him from replicating the beautiful sight of your pretty lil’pussy spurting out juices that run all the way down his forearm.

“…heh, looks like I can milk you too, Bunny.”

Gojo finally dislodges his dick out of your throat but still runs a hand through your pussy folds to rub soothing circles on your clit. You whimper through your coughs as you spit up some of his cum, still gagging after what were mere minutes but seemed like hours of choking on his beefy cock.

Vision spotty, tremors run through your body—both ends so thoroughly fucked out—that it doesn’t register that Gojo is once again lifting your body bringing you towards the edge of the bed.

If you thought Gojo was going to give you aftercare from having used your body like one of his anime fleshlights, you’d be correct—but not before one last round. 

Lifting your hips off his luxe bed Gojo positions your wobbly legs on his shoulders. His eyes are blown out and crazed with his own twisted perversion. Weakened and spent himself as cock twitched from overstimulation but he’s never been a quitter—determined to make you cum again and again before one of you finally passes out.

Your toes wiggle and you keen as his tongue ravenously dips between your toes. Trailing his tongue past the arch of your foot to bite your heel.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Bunny—the best pussy in the whole world, how could you ever think she was broken? You were just waiting for me to use her huh?”

“S-shut up–Toru, j-jeez…”

Your windpipes had been fucked raw and you’re croaking which to your dismay only seems to turn Gojo on more and he’s tapping his tender engorged cockehead on your clit. Your brows pinch together as you bite back moans from his frenulum catching and chafing so wonderfully over your clitoral hood.

“Puhleaseeee, Honey Bunny! Let me fuck you a bit more now that we know you are as ecchi coded as I am, m’kay my pervy princess?”

The very thought shames you and you think your heart might seize from embarrassment if it doesn’t give out from pleasure first and your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest chest from all the pet names Gojo is bestowing upon you. 

“Toru…”

You try to reason with him through your defeated huffs as you press your legs shut together.

“...y-you made me cum from your fingers n’ your cock.. Y-You won. Pleaseee—I-I don’t even think I can cum any more.” 

Not convinced Gojo pushes your legs back.

“Oh, is that right? Let’s ask her then!”

Gojo delivers another smack onto your slippery pussy as if on the command of her new owner your obedient cunt immediately leaks a bit more creamy slick onto his palm.

“See, baby? She says you can though and that she’s tired of you running from it Bunny—”

Still hugging your legs together in his grasp, Gojo lowers himself to rub his cheek against your pussy like it was his favorite pillow. 

“Don’t fret my pervy lil’ pussy I won't let Bunny deprive you any longer from what you really need.”

You groan yet Gojo is more gentle this time as he gingerly rolls you onto your belly and lifts your hips to slide his giant Agumon pillow underneath.

Urgh, did it have to be this one!?

There's no time for complaints though once Gojo spreads your cheeks wide. A glob of spit hits your crack as his thumb prods against your shy puckering rear hole while he humps his cock between the fat of your thighs through your soggy swollen folds. 

“Shiiit imma fuck this tight lil’ bunny hole next time baby, m’kay?”

The threat causes you to shudder yet all your back talk and sass is gone from his illicit preparations as he elicits heady mewls from your hoarse throat. Your cunt flutters eagerly to have him fill you again as his fingers imprint themselves into your bottom.

The anticipation is so intense as bracing for his size ripping through you you nearly fail to notice Gojo is now humming to himself—humming—THE DIGIMON CHAMPIONS THEME SONG!?

OH HE HAD YOU ALL THE WAY FUC—

—And suddenly you’re screaming again, eyes glued to the back of your skull as his hips jerk forward, drilling his dick past your walls to pound directly into your cervix with the tempo of a  madman.

OH FUCK! …s’good!

You finally surrender letting your cunt control your brain as you throw ass back to meet his frenzied thrusts. Like a drug addict from the first real taste your pussy is already addicted to the feeling of his cock destroying you.

“S’toru–S’toru–S’toru–FUHHHHCK!”

His name fell from your lips like a mantra, the only word your brain—now thoroughly fucked smoothed—could remember.

The sight of you chasing your own pleasure as your ass slammed back onto his pelvis, your skin rippling as it bounced and splashed frothy fluids onto his abs sent him further into perverse degeneracy. 

“F-Fuck Bunny—baby, this pussy too good—We can’t tell Suguru for a while, kay? He’ll want to fuck you too and this pussy is just f’me. Suguru gets all the pussy s’tell me you’ll keep yours f’er me. Thought you were broken but you just needed my cock this whole time—”

Burying your face in the sheets bashfully at the mention of Suguru, your cunt pulls more taut around Gojo’s cock.

“—FUHH, g-go out with me yeah, Bunny? Love you s’much—SHIIIIT—buy you whatever you want—t-take you where you want—this dick s’yours Bun Bun—all yours!”

Plunging into deeper if it were even possible Gojo’s blunted nails drug into the fat of your ass and hips, it wouldn’t scar but it would certainly add to the inevitable bruising. 

“I’ll never even look at a non 2D woman again as long as I have you as my lil’ onahole—shit I’ll never even buy one of those again unless it's in the shape of your pussy—F-FUCK, w-wait–y-you think we could get one made in the shape of your pussy–my girlfriend’s perfect pussy?!”

It’s too much—too overwhelming and your mind is slowly but surely being corrupted by Gojo. Otherwise the image of him whining while fucking a onahole casted from your cunt as he watches you finger yourself would have never in a million years popped into your mind. 

Determined to see you unhinged in every respect, Gojo didn’t want to deny you pleasure but if he had to be a little mean to you so you could finally be honest with him then so be it. 

Slowly pulling out, your expression is near frantic as you look back at him. Your mouth gaping and babbling nonsensically for him not for him to stop—you were so close.

Gojo simpers, relishing in your cute cockdrunk face scrunched with confusion from him pulling out so suddenly. 

“W-Words baby, c’mon I just spilled my heart out here!”

Your pussy weeps longingly for Gojo’s cock as your body shakes with a yearning begging to be filled again. 

God help you, you want him. 

You want him and his sinfully curved demon dick badly, it’s all you could think about—Not even remembering what life was like before he so perversely rearranged your guts.  However, not only did he know how to hit all your spots, he knew you—and despite him completely disregarding all of the rules you had initially set, he was the first guy who actually cared about how you felt during sex, even if he was a perverted otaku.

There was simply no use in denying it any longer. 

You caved.

Tears streaming down your face as you hiccupped your admission of affections for him, red-faced and flustered.

“S’toru, I-I’ll be your girlfriend—need you n’need your cock s’much—”

Pressing the side of your face against the mattress you bring a shaky hand through your legs, fingers slipping over your slick as you part your pussy lips—your vacant core exposed and fluttering, begging for him just as hard.

“—m’also you’re onahole T-Toru, I promise i’ll only fuck you, j-just please keep fucking me, i wanna cum on your cock, want your cum in me Toru baby!”

You might die from the shame of it all once you sober up from being utterly cockdrunk and stupefied but all you could think about right now was Gojo’s hard dick laying heavy pipe back into your cunt.

Something snaps in Gojo.

Head over heels for you now, Gojo knew from that moment on he’d never let you go. 

Real or 2D—no could compare to you in Gojo’s eyes. 

Toru finally found something he loved more than digimon—your perfect lil’pussy.

And he was going to show her how much he loved her right now.

Taking what was so graciously presented to him this time around, you’re short circuiting once he’s finally inside you again your most base needs being satiated turning you into a cockfiendish whore crying for him to fuck you harder as you grip his sheets like you could rip them apart. 

His strokes become more merciless, unrelenting on your pussy and Gojo leans his weight onto your back, legs bent crouching on top of you, his hips becoming manic they thrashed forward in short heavy thrusts to hammer you into the mattress.

Gojo himself is beyond gone. 

Disregarding all promises of mentioning otaku shit while he was wrecking your cunt.  

“Fuck bunny this feels better then what I thought Agnewomon’s pussy would be like— you'd look so sexy in that cosplay. Gonna have you dress up for me and show you off at cons. I’ll buy you whatever you want, anything, the whole fucking world yeah? Just fuck—wear those those vibrating panties while you cosplay too, you’d like that?”

You tightened groaning at his debauchery, something that was not missed at all by Gojo who by this point had fucked his own self dumb in your angelic cunt. White strands of his hair stuck to both of your faces as he tiled your head back so he could see how desperately those little hearts danced in your dilated pupils before they were reduced to nothing more than mere splotches whiting out your vision.

“Fuck u really are a slut huh bunny? Tightening at the thought of all those otaku perverts looking at you in that skimpy outfit while I control the buzzing on that lil clit. But they can’t have you—m’the only otaku pervert that knows how to make you cum!”

Delirious with melodic honeyed cries spilling from you, you just wanted him to stop talking—pointing out every single time your body responded to his ecchi tastes becoming your tastes and now just yearning for a taste of him. 

Reaching back you’re pulling him down to smash your lips together. Messy, but you could care as Gojo tried to swallow your tongue fucking his own into your mouth with a force that matched his cock. If fucking you was heaven then kissing you was nirvana—he’d give you the whole world if he could keep fucking you like this forever.

Gojo needs you to cum again soon as the feral need breed your tummy until it swells with his seed has him losing the little sanity he even had to begin with. A virgin until today he’d saved up so much waiting for your tight cunt this whole time. 

Moving his lips away from yours only for air, your chest heaves harmonies cries from his hand weaving under your bodies. Jittery fingers swiped frantically over your clit, hurling you towards your euphoric climax as his lips descend back upon yours.

“Cum Bunny—I got ya baby.”

Deliberately plowing himself harder against your cervix, your body seizes up releasing tension into pure white energy that you swore was pumping through your every vein as an extension of your pussy as his heavy load spurts to paint your walls and sear your insides as his thrusts continue to swill his seed inside you, pushing it further into your womb—-thank fuck for birth control.

However that was the last thing you remember before you go limp, temporarily blacked out as you swear you’ve transcended to a celestial plane of existence. One where all slutted out souls went to escape from the unearthly pleasure they’ve been tortured by. You don’t know how long you’ve been out but you're squirming as you come back to consciousness. Realizing your now back on your back as your hips involuntarily rocking against something thick and wet. 

When you finally manage to open your eyes you're greeted by Gojo tongue slurping at your clit and lapping up the cum oozing out of your battered hole like it was a refreshingly creamy bowl of kakigori. His hands embedded themselves into your thighs pinning them to the bed nibbling on your clit and having your already overstimulated core climaxing on his tongue once more.

Strings of your sticky nectar connect his tongue to your cunt as he looks up at you. Having the audacity to grin lovingly at you as if he didn’t look like a downright starved and deranged man with a sheen of shared fluids dribbling down his chin. He’s pussy drunk once again this time buzzed off the pungent yet sweet taste of his cum marinating in your creamy tenderized cunt.  

Gojo is cheesin’ at you like he’s found his favorite spot in the world—and he had as far as he was concerned.

“You said it was too messy, remember Bunny? The least I can do to make it up to you is scoop every drop out of your runny lil’ cunt with my tongue! What kind of boyfriend would I be to have all this cum soaking my Bunny’s slutty little thong and spilling down her thighs while out to dinner—so I decided to have mine a little early.”

FUCKING HELL—DINNER! What time was it?! 

Disordented, your head is fuzzy and you could feel the soreness settling in your muscles. You didn’t think you’d be able to get out of this bed in the next 24 hours, let alone make it to dinner—if you hadn’t already missed it! 

“Nnnn, n-not like I can go anymore Toru, s’all your f-fault!”

Your bruised lips poke out into pout. Gojo chuckles at you how cute you look and he rises up from between your thick thighs to boop you on the nose as he gazes adoringly at you.

“I know princess m’sorry—I already texted Shoko saying you couldn’t, don’t worry~~”

But your eyes widened as you were now fully worried. 

Worried as to what the fuck Gojo actually texted them! 

“T-Toru—”

“—I just told them you weren’t feeling well, was that okay?”

Quickly assuaging your fears—you can relax a bit for now (although you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do later) as Gojo pulls you to him again and softly kisses your neck, hands returning to your ass to rub soothing circles on your chaffed skin. 

Relaxing again floods sleep into your eyes. A welcome godsend honestly, so you can process everything that just happened, especially Gojo aggressively fucking a love confession out of you. 

“And m’sorry if I got carried away Bun… but you were so good for me, so fucking perfect! Just relax and I’ll take care of you! I’ll handle everything—for you and your nasty lil’ cunt. I love you both and I’ll keep both my pretty girls happy forever! I promise!”

Gazing at you with cartoonishly sparkling eyes, you have to look away from Gojo lest your ears altogether burn up in embarrassment from his shameless and yet a hundred percent earnest vocalization of affections that somehow still got your heart racing.

“—oh and my parents will be here tomorrow—we can tell them right? They will be so excited! They've been telling me since I was little I shouldn’t let you get away! Ooo! Ooo! Maybe now that we're dating they’ll let us use their sex dungeon! We need to think of a safe word though Bunny—”

Scarcely comprehending anything he is saying to you, your mind like your pussy had been fully liquified. Both ruthlessly corrupted by Gojo’s long otaku cock and pervy ass fantasies which is no surprise seeing as his family even owns a—

HOL’ THE ENTIRE FUCKUP—A SEX DUNGEON!?

Like a shot of caffeine directly into your veins your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you blink at him dumbfounded, mouth hanging open.  

“Doesn’t that sound fun, Bunny!? My parents are so cool! When I turned 18 my dad even gave me some of his rare and one-of-a-king hentai figures for my collection to get me started and then—”

Tuning him out you’re gagged at the unexpected revelations—and his parents always seemed like such charming n’ decent God fearing people too. Well known to be ruthless in the business world, but upstanding global philanthropists nonetheless.

Well the apple sure as hell didn’t fall too far from the sordid sex fiend tree, that was for damn sure!

Clearly you had no idea what you were getting yourself into or had unleashed by agreeing to be Gojo’s girlfriend. I mean, could no longer deny your growing feelings for him—plus he did just give you multiple back-breaking-terrifyingly-mind-numbing-earth-shattering-orgasms. Not to mention, you would definitely be getting one of every Hermes bag ever made if you wanted one—but at what cost?

Your Dignity? 

Self-respect? 

The right to call yourself a functional and contributing non-degenerate member of society?

Who knows really…

Although perhaps dating a Gojo, the next heir at that, you’d be too rich and highly regarded for people to even care (we’ll except for your friends giving y’all hell but you could eventually make peace with that).

You internally groan as the gentle touches on your bottom morph into lustful gropes and you know your brand new boyfriend would not be granting rest for your totally demolished lil’ pussy anytime soon unless you could distract him a bit.

“—Toru, Toru baby listen, please.”

Interrupting him, you muster the energy to put on the sweetest face you can manage in your exhausted state. 

And of course, Gojo, as always and yet unknowingly, tests the limits of your tolerance.

“Yes, my whittle Bunny, my kinky baby girl—hentai goddess divine?”

Gojo nuzzles your nose in an eskimo kiss as he showers you with ‘loving compliments’. 

Scrunching your face, you grit your teeth through your already weak smile to stop yourself from losing it at him referring to you as ‘hentai goddess divine’—y’all would definitely be having a talk about that as well as appropriate in-public pet names later though.

“Babyyyyy—I’m so sticky and sore, why don’t you be a good boyfriend and get stuff ready for us to take a bath, hm? Maybe find me something else to wear too, hm?”

You did need a bath and you calculated even with his energetic disposition it should take him at least 15-20 minutes to delegate the tasks and get everything together considering how huge his mansion was.

“Oh! Of course, of course! Just wait here! I’ll be right back, my ecchi angel.”

Brow-twitching you sit up to wave at him with another strained smile as he scrambles to put on pants and heads out of his room.

You sigh tiredly and make yourself comfy on his cloud like pillows. 

Thinking he’s finally left and you can savor some much needed time to make peace with what you got yourself into by agreeing to be the girlfriend of an otaku nerd like Gojo Satoru—

—when his head suddenly peaks back in the room with a sheepish look on his face.

“Heh, you know Bunny, was thinking—you really didn’t think I could code crack your cute lil’ cunt now did ya?”

Your eyes are closed but your fists are balling angrily gripping onto the pillows surrounding you.

“Don’t worry Bunny, yours is the only pussy my dick is digidestined for!”

With that, Gojo narrowly avoids the Agumon pillow plushie that is swiftly hurled at his head as he dashes away from the door, his merry yet hysterical laughter echoing through the halls.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⏭ a/n: this fic was wayyyy too long but i've been kinda mean to y'all gojo glazers lately rejoicing in your sorrows cause you are now miserable like the rest of us lmfao, so consider this y'alls bone :P tbh im kinda surprised this is the first full gojo fic i've written lol, it was fun tho cause otaku!gojo is a freak for pussy would drive you insane in all the right and wrong ways. i still have invisible man gojo and ceo/professor gojo planned tho (plus that frat boy satosugu request).

eta: serieslist

reblogs and comments are my life's blood ty ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ

[sweet-as-an-angel]

What about Graves with a breeding kink or if reader is pregnant? I know you don't rlly write for him a lot, but I love when you do.

Idk if you'll feel like answering this, but ily and ur fics regardless 🫶

Graves w/ a Breeding Kink

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Breeding Kink, Possessive Graves, Housewifery, Pet Names,Profanity,  Fem! Reader.

He lusts for the American dream; the very foundations upon which he continues his existence. To have – to create – a family. And he can think of nobody better to achieve that dream with than you.

He’s on top of you, arms either side of your head, gasping, panting, bent over you and exerting every inch of himself as if you were crafted of some divine substance with tools far beyond human comprehension.

He’s been at it for hours now. You see it in the way his hair sticks together, slicked with sweat as it drips down his face, hear it in the thick, wet sound of his cock slipping back into you with every thrust of his hips, feel it in the growing ache in your abdomen as he fills you again, letting out a strangled, short-breathed moan as your body squeezes around him. He doesn’t let up, though.

He pushes through, gripping you by your hips and pulling you closer onto him. You gasp, back arching as he hits a spot deeper within you. An area he’d been abusing all night, 

“B’such a good little mommy for me,” he whispers into your hair, just above your ear. He presses a lopsided kiss there, lip wet from the many times he’s drawn it into his mouth with his teeth.

“Y’want that, Sweetness?” he pants, looking into your eyes with his half-lidded pair. “Want me to–” – he grunts – “want me t’make you mine from the inside out?”

You can’t get the words out fast enough; garbled and twisted, they come out tangled and in knots, as if tripping over each other to reach a unified ‘yes’. With the little energy you have left, you nod with all the enthusiasm your half-gone mind can conjure. Graves smiles, giving a brief, airy laugh. “Knew I’d made the right choice pickin’ you. Knew you’d make a good housewife for me someday,”

You clench. Graves gasps. He brings warm lips to yours as if to press his love there, as if you are to now impart upon him that which he has longed for for years unnumbered; a family.

He angles deeper, presses his throbbing, pulsating instrument into the most inconspicuous part of you that has you arching your back and letting out an almost-scream. Your knees press into the sides of Graves’ waist, tightening around him just as your cunt did. He yells, uses every ounce of his strength to not collapse on top of you, the tip of his nose against yours. Something in him tightens, snaps, and he floods you for the umpteenth time, pressing himself deeper, making sure his seed takes.

Not that you can see for your eyes being screwed shut, but Graves gazes upon you as you bask in the afterglow of his labour, feeling a smile creeping up onto his cheeks as he takes in your every feature. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s seen them, in one form or another, he never stops being fascinated – enamoured – by them. By you.

When you come down, come to, you give Phillip a smile he knows all too well – one that preludes your telling him you’re ready for bed. He all but pounces on you as you turn onto your side, taking you by the wrists and pressing them into the pillow beneath you. A dark glimmer passes through his eye, and he gives you a hazy, slithering smirk, followed by his southern drawl.

“Oh no, Princess,” he says, taking your chin between his fingers.

“We’re not done ‘til I say we’re done.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

[dontopenfairies]

She pulls up to the curb alongside a huge green lawn. There’s supposed to be a free concert in the park today. She turns off the car and looks at her boyfriend.

“Let me take kitty for a second while you eat your snack,” she says, taking his black stuffed cat from him and setting it on the dashboard. She rummages around in the bag and finds a granola bar for him. “Here you go, sweetheart. Eat that and then we’ll try to find the festival.”

After they get out of the car, she passes him the big bag. “You’re carrying that,” she says. “Stick kitty in the big pocket. And then there’s sunscreen on the inside zipper pocket. Make sure you get your nose.”

It’s a long walk through the park to get there. “Are you excited?” she asks. “I’m really excited.” She stops him to take pictures of him next to the prettiest flowers and trees.

There’s a huge crowd of people around the bandstand. They can hear the murmur of people from the top of the little path down the hillside to get there. “Wow,” she says. “I think I forgot what crowds sound like. Maybe a Covid thing.” He reaches out and she grabs his hand as they get closer.

Everyone cheers when the band comes out. They start to play and the crowd applauds. Little groups of people around the perimeter are dancing.

He gets a little closer to her. “Are you okay, honey?”

“Um…I don’t know,” he whispers.

“Is the crowd stressing you out? You seem a little bit anxious.”

He nods. “I wet myself a little bit,” he whispers in her ear.

“Aww, sweetheart, and you don’t have a diaper today.” She surveys the damage as subtly as she can. Good thing he’s wearing black pants today.

“I think I need a toilet,” he says.

“Okay, let’s go find somewhere.” She’s wearing a flannel over her tank top, so she pulls it off and wraps it around his waist, tying it at the front. “That’ll cover you a little bit if you leak more, okay, honey?”

Now to find a toilet.

“Oh, that guy can tell us!” she says, looking at a man with a hi-vis staff vest on. “Excuse me? Hi, um, we’re looking for a bathroom.”

“Porta-potties that-a-way,” says the man, pointing.

She thanks him as they hurry over. The porta-potties are between two big, flowering bushes, but it isn’t enough to mask their smell.

The larger, accessible toilet is in use so they have to cramp into one of the small ones. The plastic walls are trapping heat inside.

“Yuck, it’s gross in here,” she says. She reaches out and opens the bag, still on his arm, and pulls out kitty and hands it to him.

“Wait, you aren’t changing me, are you?”

“What do you mean? You need a change, she says, pulling a thin adult diaper out of the bag.

“I’m not going in the toilet?”

“In there? Did you see how yucky it was? This’ll be so much better. Besides, I can tell you want it today.”

“Why? Just because I was holding my stuffie in the car?”

She unzips his pants and pulls them down along with his underwear. Even though they’ve been together for two years, he still gets shy when he’s exposed to her.

“No,” she says, getting the lotion and baby powder from the bag. “Well, not just that. Just from how shy and nervous you’ve seemed all day. Not to mention clingy.”

“Nuh-uh!” he retorts as she pulls the diaper around his front and tapes the sides. “I wasn’t THAT clingy…”

“You wanted to sit on the same side as me in the booth in the diner,” she says. “And you were hanging on to me the whole time. I almost expected I’d have to spoon-feed you your lunch.”

“Noo! You’d never have to spoon-feed me! I can do that myself!”

“Can you hold your pee by yourself, too?” she asks, watching his diaper swelling. He bends over, as far as the cramped portapottie allows him to, and presses on his bladder to get out the last bit.

“So cute,” she says, almost to herself, as she pulls his underwear and pants back up over the diaper. It’s a little harder to zip his pants up now that the diaper is swollen.

“You’re gonna stretch out my underwear,” he whines.

“I’m not getting a pants change?” he asks as she opens the portapottie door.

“Do you think there’s room in there to get your pants all the way off and your extra pair on?” she asks, holding the door open for him.

“No…”

They walk to the little sink next to the portapotties and she washes her hands.

“You should wash, too,” she says, taking kitty from him and stowing it in the bag.

“Okay,” he says. He hates the smell of the portapottie soap. Luckily, when he’s done, she sprays his hands with the lavender-scented hand sanitizer she keeps in the bag. So much better.

“Do you want to try again,” she asks, gesturing to the crowd. “Or do you want to go home?”

“I’ll try again!”

It just takes a couple more songs before he gets squirmy again. It’s getting hotter, and someone is smoking weed nearby, and more people are joining the crowd behind them, pressing in.

“I’m really trying, but I think I just need to go home,” he says. “Or somewhere quiet.”

“Okay, let’s go down to the grove,” she says, leading him by the hand through the crowd and across the lawn and down to the little area between the hills. There’s a ring of trees with a bench in the middle and they sit down.

He takes out his water bottle and takes a sip.

“Are you feeling better here?” she asks, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and pulling him closer.

“I’m sorry I wanted to leave. I know you wanted to see the concert.”

“I wanted to hang out with you,” she says. “I just thought maybe the free concert would be fun. It’s not a big deal.”

“Okay,” he says, leaning his head on her shoulder.

“Remember what I told you before? Sometimes things seem like a really big deal in the moment, but as soon as it’s over, you can see that it’s all okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He closes his eyes. He can hear the sound of the band, warped and far away. And the sound of cars on the road just outside of the park. He can feel the strap of her tank top and her warm skin on his cheek, her shoulder rising and falling with her breath.

“Now you’re happy, sitting here with me holding you. But don’t think I’ll forget how bratty you were in the portapottie when we get home. You’re definitely getting a punishment for talking back to me and whining about wearing a diaper you clearly need.” She rubs his shoulder. “Oh, don’t blush. I could tell you wanted a diaper on, I can tell when you want a little punishment, too.”

[dadsbongos]

for honor. and duty.

3.2k words / warnings - forced breeding, injections, drugging, unhappy end, reader is written as a woman

summary - it's his job to carry on the bloodline, and its your job to love Satoru Gojo; thankless as both gigs are.

kinktober: day nine - breeding, aphrodisiac ~~~

Satoru was disinterested in fathering children. 

While he loved teaching, and teasing Megumi throughout the years was a joy, raising an entire person from scratch? An unnecessary addition to his plate he would rather be without. Besides, he was only scratching at his late 20s, why should he rush into having babies?

His feelings were not hidden, either. Everything about Satoru screamed childfree. Most respected the decision; for the Gojo clan to be written into history with Satoru as the cataclysmic final bang -- the sole pillar maintaining his clan’s status in the big three. It would be an honor and a pleasure, were he humble enough to silently accept both.

But Satoru loves whining.

“Too bad the Six Eyes and Limitless will be totally lost to time when I die…” he pouts every time he says it. Purely to gloat that not only does he have both, but he will be the last one in history, “If only someone could take them off my hands, huh?”

Maybe he should’ve just shut his mouth.

… 

“Why don’t you donate, then?” Shoko snarks one random Wednesday, finally fed up with Satoru’s haughty huffs this particular lunch break, “I’m sure your swimmers wouldn’t be unwelcome if they could make another special grade.”

“Gross, Sho,” you gag, then pointing at the man, “Don’t respond to that.”

Predictably, you’re ignored, “But who would be worthy, Shoko? Huh?” Satoru snickers when you gag even louder, “It’d have to be another sorcerer, you know? Can’t just put a super baby in any ole lady.”

“I’m sure you could find someone for a good price,” Shoko leans onto her palm, “Some high up clan girl. A Zen’in? It’d make her life better by getting out of that place, I bet.”

“Can we not talk about this while I’m eating, please?” you gesture to your lunch, though you hardly have the appetite for it now anyway. 

“You can say you’re jealous,” Satoru teases into your ear, laying his head on your shoulder. There’s no warmth of skin to feel, and if you closed your eyes the weight wouldn’t be reasonable for a human head either -- much lighter. Airier. As if he isn’t there at all.

“I’m not jealous of not being your incubator, Gojo.”

“Harsh!” he dramatically clutches over his heart, sucking in a breath like he’d been stabbed, “What happened to first name privileges?”

“Revoked,” you flick his head knowing it’ll never land. Knowing he’ll never feel you.

Shoko simpers, long nails tapping against the creaky break room table. When you shoot over a quizzical glance, those nails stretch over her lips; covering so you alone can make out what she mouths: ‘jealous’. 

You mimic the motion to mouth back: ‘fuck you’.

“Hey,” Satoru wraps both arms around you (no warmth, no weight), “Secrets among friends is asking for trouble.”

“Donating out soldier serum is asking for trouble,” Shoto snickers.

“You suggested it!” 

You roll your eyes at the pair, hoping this was the last you would hear of Satoru’s semen stumper, “Well, I’d love to stick around, but you two are disgusting.”

“Boo,” Shoko wads up the shrink of her microwave meal and tosses it at your head.

“Boo!” Satoru echoes the sentiments louder, fingers clinging to your uniform until his long arms can stretch no further.

“Yeah, whatever!” you holler back, “As if the higher ups will even let you just donate!”

Those traditional old heads will want a “proper” heir, and there is no way Satoru would get suckered into that.

It’s part of why loving him is so difficult.

Because loving Satoru means having to share him: always. He is overwhelmingly busy between his work as a sorcerer and his passion as a mentor. Your love for him will forever be yours to own, but Satoru himself could never be.

Perhaps that’s what Suguru realized when he tried years ago, when Satoru was always gone and the space between them only grew. Perhaps that’s why he decided to close Satoru out completely.

“You actually gonna donate sperm?” Shoko returns her tired gaze to her friend, quirking a brow when he laughs and shakes out his phone.

“Nah, the geezers just keep pestering me,” he mimics a flapping mouth with his hand, “Blah, blah spreading the genes- blah, blah good of the clan. As if they care about the good of the clan.”

“They might,” she snorts, clapping a hand over her mouth to hide a grin.

Both of them know full well otherwise.

“I’m just gonna tell them,” he re-pockets his phone, purposefully ignoring the buzzing call of Gakuganji, “Face to face this time, so they can’t ignore it.”

“Ooh, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“What’re you gonna say, big man?”

Satoru smiles bright, all cocky and sure and cool, “‘There is no way that you bags of bones will ever convince me to have kids.’”

. . .

A cold, soaked cotton pad is swiped over the triangle of your inner elbow, disinfecting the area before introducing a syringe.

You once asked Satoru why he bothered remaining a sorcerer under Jujutsu Tech when he obviously hates the higher-ups. His response, of course, was lackluster and chock full of holes (“Nobody else can do what I do,” he rolls his hand laxly, “Also, it's the only thing that doesn’t make me so bored I contemplate blowing my brains out.”).

You remember rolling your eyes with a single word reply, deeply unimpressed with his typical lack of tact (“Inspiring.”). Similarly, you remember thinking that you wanted to stay by his side, despite his annoying insensitivity.

When you got the panicked call from Shoko, you considered it a test. The universe cruelly examining your dedication. Ever the fool, you sped for the address she spat over the phone to prove yourself.

Now, you can’t even have the shame of reconsideration.

The bedroom has a camera in the far right corner, on the wall opposite a large observation mirror. Men in white coats pace back and forth, scribbling notes and judging every exact twinge in Satoru’s muscles. Satoru is positioned on a king bed with white sheets, hands latched behind his back in solid shackles with a radiant lock.

“He’s not hurt, right?”

“No,” the lead man steadies a needle to the sterilized juncture, “We never want to hurt Gojo,” his eyes flick up to the pinch in your face as the needle punctures your skin, “Or you.”

“He looks miserable…”

Three doctors turn to you, glaring. The man administering a blue, gluey serum into your veins sighs loudly, “Yes, well… you will be, too…”

The doctor folding your discarded clothes on the left scoffs, shaking his head.

Sometimes you spend so much time with Satoru that you forget how mean men can be.

“It should begin taking effect in just minutes,” the man steps back, letting one of his many assistants undo your tethers, “Mostly an additive,” he clarifies, “You don’t really need it, your stamina doesn’t matter much to us here. You can head in for him now.”

Your stamina may not matter to them, but you’d personally like to be awake as long as possible for this.

“Did you tell him it was me?”

Your question is ignored. So you step through the men and creep into the other room. Casting a curious glance over your shoulder to confirm the study window only reflects yourself. And Satoru.

Satoru.

Satoru.

The name is saccharine sweet in your mind. His head twists in your direction, blindfold gone and eyes comically wide. His eyes are dimmer than usual, though that isn’t very surprising when you were explicitly told the drug dampened cursed energy.

Your eyes rake over his body -- red and writhing and naked. Satoru’s gaze falls from your face to your chest to between your thighs, eyes widening further. You know he’s had partners before (lots of them, in fact), so the shock is unwarranted. Unless, of course, it’s because it’s you and not the random woman from a high up clan he assumed it’d be.

A stern voice breaks out from the far right corner of the room.

“He is willing.”

You gnaw your bottom lip anxiously, squinting through harsh overhead lights to the two-way mirror over your shoulder. Then, your eyes return to Satoru, knelt on the mattress and bare -sans the stocks cuffed around his wrist.

“Satoru…?” your face boils, gut fairing no better. Veins direct gutters for the goopy blue in your system, and it's pumping fast.

He copies your quiet, uttering your name through the still observation room, “You?”

“Is it…” you crawl onto the bed, convinced that his skin on yours could cure the overwhelming swelter in the room, “Am I okay?”

He nods limply, hair falling into crystalline eyes, “It’s you.”

Bright fluorescents dim to a more bearable, faint glow. Swallowing the last of your reservations with the swell in your throat, you turn your back to Satoru -- both knees firm on the plush mattress. 

Though his chest beats in sporadic, panicked breaths, Satoru’s lean hips are still -- perfect for reaching between your thighs and grasping his stood cock. He clenches his angel eyes shut to your flesh, but the waves and dips of your cursed energy stubbornly persist in his vision. He sees the wavering as your lust grows, he knows his is the same. Worse, even. So swallowed up in his belly by enforced desire that a stable flow is impossible to maintain.

Satoru is easy in your grasp, slipping inside you with whimpered pleas and huffs. You curve him into you, backing onto Satoru until your soft flesh is flush with his. Heat tickles up your spine, chilling at your neck and causing a rabid shiver all down your shoulders. 

Leaning forward onto your elbows, you slip over Satoru’s cock -- sliding along him with manufactured fervor (if you focus hard enough, you can still feel the needle incision stretch in your arm). 

The stocks rattle as Satoru jerks forward with a thick groan, hips now eager to pap, pap pap! onto yours. Bonds creak, splinters wailing in protest of his strength as he claws out to reach you. Satoru throws his head back, every sensitive nerve set ablaze just by the warmth and squeeze of your cunt.

His shortburst thrusts don’t dig far enough even though you’re kissing hips every time -- he feels overstimulated and yet unfulfilled. He needs to have both hands bound on your hips -squeezing the flesh on your bones and flipping and bending and making you keen under his lithe fingers.

He cannot discern if the need is driven by drooly chemical injection or longstanding affection, and he isn’t bothering himself with the question now. 

“Wanna touch,” he mumbles pathetically, red in the face and sweat beading down his forehead, white bangs slick to the skin, “Need it…” he gasps as you arch, stretching one of your legs to curl around his thigh, “Need to touch!"

As if spontaneously occurring to the crew that Satoru is pleading with them, the leading man jingles over with his key. He looks at the sedation team for extra assurance before unlocking Satoru’s stocks. 

Once the bonds clatter to the floor, Satoru is raking his nails across your body -- thighs, stomach, back, anywhere he can reach he’s eagerly clawing. Pulling and pushing before he collapses over you, his chest scorching your back. He stretches his neck to press his cheek to yours, lips loose and babbling,

“So good, so good, love how you feel -- wanna fuck you,” his brain must be falling through his lips because he seems to forget he’s already fucking you, “Wanna fuck you, wanna fuck you, wanna fuck you,” he lays sloppy kisses over your shoulder, teething at the sensitive bone, “Gonna let me cum in you, pretty girl? Yeah? Gonna make me a daddy, yeah?”

Hanging one arm below, he swirls the soft pads of his fingers over your clit -- soaked with the syrup his cock fucks free. His large hand expands over the pouch of your tummy to snugly press his thumb into your doughy skin; thumping where he’s battering your insides.

“Feel me there, mama? S’wet ‘n’ desperate, you want me bad,” he giggles deliriously, humping at your sex in plasticine frenzy before twitching to completion.

Satoru thinks he could go all day.

Thick arms tied around your waist, keeping your chest bare to his with both knees crimped over Satoru’s shoulders. His overconfidence proves itself as he thrusts up into you, lips pressing wetly onto yours while drooling out affectionate slurs,

“Best girl, pretty and hot and so fuckin’ wet for me, aren’t you? You love me, sweet girl? I think you do- know you do.”

Satoru stills only when more cum is pumped into your womb, pitiful mewls bobbing the apple of his throat.

You’re nodding with a heavy crown, forehead thumping into his sweaty collarbones and biting cresents in his biceps with your nails, “Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh - love you, ‘Toru! Love you so much…!”

Nuzzling along your flaming cheek, Satoru wriggles you loose just to flip you around to kneel in the sheets.

“I’m tired,” he muses, fingers dancing in the baby hairs at the base of your neck, “How about you do something, princess?”

You groan and pout, but don’t disobey.

Your knees are tingling and arms shaking as you twist to nestle against Satoru. Stretching back, you splay your palms over his broad chest to balance over his standing cock; then reach between your spread legs to grasp his erection. Skin soft and warm in your palm, he whimpers at the contact and throws his head back into the plush white pillow. Snowy hair tousled against the case, hips twitching up in you.

His cock bumps against your clit in his desperation and the sensation makes you clamp your knees around his waist tighter. You’re all heavy breaths and whines by the time you finally sink base-down. His cock feels hot and thick inside you, you’re not sure if it's all the eyes or whatever they stuck in your arm or the fact you’re with Satoru but your entire body is simmering.

Satoru’s hands unwind from the sheets to cling around your hips, forcefully rocking you down on him: as if to grind both your bones into paste. Cool air catches in the back of his swollen throat, your cunt wet and swallowing him back in as he tries slipping out. He lifts his head -jaw limping open and drool pooling around his raw-bitten lips- just to watch as he lifts and drops you over his cock.

Clumsily, he jerks his knees up and feet flat on the bed as the lava scorching through his veins inspires him to fuck you faster. Sweat beading and swamping all along his hairline and joints, leaving his skin sticky and sucking against yours with every thrust. Satoru’s fingers squeeze harshly around the fat of your hips, marking the skin with plum stains in the shape of his hand. If a baby isn’t enough, then these bruises surely will be bountiful evidence of your tryst.

Suddenly, Satoru sits up fully, lips pressing into your shoulder before he stabs into bone and flesh with his teeth. His arms swiftly move to curl around your waist, flushing your back to his chest as he pumps into you. One of his hands finds your breast, squishing the swells by the handful, and the other hand swooping to toy with your clit. He works slow circles into quicker swishes, thrusts speeding as the heat climbs and climbs from where he’s inside you up to your necks. Suffocating. Enveloping. 

Ragged breaths pull with terrible effort from both you and Satoru. Wet slaps of skin and syrupy squelching echoing in the otherwise still room. Oddly, the sound is far from grotesque, instead spurring another sweetened gush around Satoru. The dirty, primal nature far overshadows the lurking men in white coats around the edges of the room.

You can almost pretend you’re wrapped around Satoru for real pleasure rather than duty.

Again, Satoru sloppily mouths at your skin, from the bend in your shoulder along your neck and unto the softness of your jaw. Arms clenching around your waist until you’re practically immobile in his embrace, bouncing along his cock only because he puppeteers you to do so. 

Satoru moans hotly against the slope of your neck, licking the sweat off your skin just because he can. You lean into the coolness of Satoru’s tongue as your gut swirls and tightens before you’re seizing in the man’s grasp. His gaping mouth is pressed against your collarbone, slobber inking across your tit and down your arm. He hugs you tighter and soaks in full the clench of your orgasm, continuing to lathe his fingers over your clit until you’re jerking and huffing in overstimulation.

You think you hear him muttering (you hope you hear him muttering), “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

The unbearable heat is replaced by normal, merely uncomfortable heat. Satoru cuddles you against him still as he plugs you with his cum.

Soft murmurs float back into your ears, men stretching necks to gaze at the both of you and whisper amongst themselves. Satoru lazily drags the sheets high over your chest and settles back against the steely headboard. 

He yelps, back arching and eyes wide, sitting upright from the board.

“What…?” you groan, exhaustion overtaking you -- limbs numb and strewn out uselessly.

“It’s cold,” he grumbles into your ear, yawning and laying against the metal headboard again (this time prepared for the stinging temperature change), “Be nice to me.”

Weakly, you make a sound of protest from the back of your throat. Brain too fried to form words.

Satoru caresses his fingers gently over your stomach, gaze fluttering to the labcoats stiffly remaining in the room. They put much effort into avoiding his stare, heads kept low and ducking behind their collars. Rolling onto his side, Satoru keeps you caged in his arms while shielding you from the mens’ stares. 

He soothes his nails along the bulb of your cheek, six eyes searing through every layer of skin and muscle down to the beating of your heart. He knows, of course, that it beats for him.

Which makes him feel sick, beneath exasperated euphoria, because he knows why you’re here.

He knows the only way to give it back is with a baby neither of you really want.

[vivid-dreamscapes]

Tw; Sexual mentions, cursing, undressing in front of him Themes; Light angst, comfort, insecurity Summery; You feel insecure and anxious about boring your boyfriend, and he reassures you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After a tiring yet fun day at the vacation beach house your were staying at with the bakusquad, you had finished a nice, long shower with your boyfriend Katsuki Bakugou.

Bakugou was now sitting on his bed with a towel wrapped around his waist, leaning against the headboard as he looked over at you. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, also only clad in a towel as you looked for something on the ground. “You know where you even put your clothes?”

“In my bag, but I tripped over it and now they’re spewed about.” You said before smirking. “Aha! Found it!” You grabbed some clothes and made a few outfits on the bed. “Alright. Now you pick.”

Bakugou looked down at the different outfits you had laid out on the bed before looking back at you with a small smirk. “Oh I get to pick now? Why don’t I just leave you naked for the rest of the day? That sounds nice.” He said, a hint of suggestion in his tone, not so subtly covering up a more teasing hint.

“Katsuki!”

Bakugou chuckled at your protest—squeal of flusteredness? Or just an irritated squeal?—and rolled his eyes. He had obviously been messing with you, but he definitely would have preferred to leave you without any clothes.

He let out a small huff before finally looking over the clothing options again and taking a good look at them. “Tch, fine I pick. How about this one?” He said, pointing to the outfit on the far right.

“Alright bet.” You said, dropping the towel to get dressed in front of him shamelessly.

His eyes widened a bit, a small blush forming on his face as he looked at the now fully exposed version of you in front of him. “Damn, just gonna drop the towel like that, huh?” He said, his eyes unable to tear away from you.

“I’m not gonna move to a closet or some shit.” You said simply, getting dressed. You had a point. “I would only do that if I didn’t want you to see me naked. And you’ve already seen that so many times.”

Bakugou huffed a bit, he knew you had a point. But that didn’t mean it didn’t affect him each time he saw you drop your towel or be naked in front of him. “Well, yeah I know that, but couldn’t you at least give me a warning?” He said, watching as you began getting dressed in the outfit he picked out.

“Think of this as a way of entertaining you.” You said jokingly, sticking my tongue out at him before pausing. “…So you don’t get bored of me.” You mumbled to yourself quietly, pulling on the last bit of clothes.

Bakugou raised an eyebrow at you when you very obviously purposefully mumbled something quite enough so that he couldn’t hear fully what you said exactly. Yet he still heard it. Because of course he did. “Hah? What was that last thing you said?” He questioned, now looking at you in curiosity. He had heard it, but wanted to know if you’d tell him anyways.

“…if you ever get bored of me?”

His eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise when he heard what you repeat your previous statement, his expression shifting a hint of annoyance to a slight surprise. He had been hoping he’d hear you wrong, but that was proven to be wishful thinking. He knew for a fact that he would never get bored of you, how could he?

“Who said I’d ever get bored of you?” He said, trying to keep his tone from changing too much, and showing a hint of a slight annoyance.

“I dunno. You just might.”

Bakugou huffed at that answer, now rolling his eyes and giving you a small glare. “As if I could ever get bored of you.” He said bluntly, now giving you a firm look. Did you honestly think that he could just get bored of being with you? He was in love with you.

“People say that and still get bored.” You said with a shrug, sitting down in front of our room’s mirror.

You sighed and started going through your usual skincare routine after a shower—an extremely simple one, but still.

The blonde looked at you with a slightly bewildered and frustrated expression as you shrugged and sat down to start you usual skincare routine. He sighed and rolled his eyes before walking over to you.

“Tch, well I’m not like other people, am I?” He said, now standing behind you and looking down at you while you sat in front of the mirror.

“Well…” You looked down as you unscrewed the lid of your moisturizer cream. “…no.” You said after a moment, looking back up at him in the mirror. “But still. What if you get tired seeing the same face, and eating the same pussy/dick?”

Your boyfriend raised an eyebrow at that, an amused small smirk tugging at his lips as you met his gaze in the mirror. “I’ve had the same explosions for years, and you don’t seem to be getting tired of them.” He said, his voice a hint lower as he crouched down behind you, leaning closer against your back.

“Well…” You paused in thought before looking up at him, open moisturizer still in your hand. “Your quirk isn’t the same thing as my dick/pussy!” You said defensively as he almost snorted in amusement, taking the skincare product out of your hand gently.

Bakugou snickered softly against your ear at your defensive response, now grabbing the moisturizer from your hand gently and starting to rub a bit onto his fingers.

“Oh trust me, I know. Believe me.” He mumbled in a deep voice, his body now leaning against your back, his breath hot and warm against your ear and neck.

“Then why compare them…?”

You asked and he chuckled silently against your neck as he began to rub the moisturizer onto your skin, his calloused hands gentle and firm at the same time as they worked.

“Because they have something in common.” He mumbled, bringing his hands down a bit lower as he began to rub the moisturizer on your shoulders and collarbones, now planting a few kisses on the nape of your neck and your shoulders.

“Psh, like what?” You asked, squirming slightly with a smirk and an eye roll.

He was definitely enjoying the reaction as he continued to kiss along you skin, now working his way onto your collarbones as he answered your question.

“It’s simple. They’re both my favorite things.” He stated bluntly, his words spoken against your skin.

[steddieas-shegoes]

CONGRATS ON 3000!!! ❤️ That’s so exciting!

For the ask game, I’d love to see your take on the song Heaven, Iowa by Fall Out Boy! (I vibe with “Scar-crossed lovers forever” as a Steddie-coded lyric but honestly whatever comes to mind for you when you hear the song is great!)

Congrats again!! 💕🎉

Thank you! I got a few different steddie-coded lyrics from this song, but the one you provided is good for something short, so I’m sticking with that! ♥️

〰️➿〰️➿〰️➿〰️➿〰️

He wasn’t even supposed to be here. Wayne specifically asked him to stop coming to the Harrington parties, didn’t want him to risk being caught when they inevitably got shut down.

He knows he’d be in deep shit if a cop managed to catch him and see what he had in his lunchbox.

But one of his best customers insisted he stop by, promising he knew enough people would buy his entire inventory. He wouldn’t have to stay long.

“That’ll be $30 for the bag, or $10 if you just want a joint,” Eddie told one of the girls who always gave him dirty looks in the hall to cover up the hungry look she gave him at parties.

“What about the harder stuff?” She asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Don’t have any on me,” he rolled his eyes. They should know by now he only handles those items when requested.

“Fine. Just a joint then.”

He exchanges his product for her money, another addition to his savings that seemed to constantly dwindle on useless. He never stopped trying though.

She was his last customer in the line that had built up in the kitchen, so he decided to make his way to the backyard to finish up. Not many people usually hung out there when it was this chilly outside, but he had to give it a shot.

The patio surrounding the pool was absent of people, but he decided to take that as a sign that he needed a minute alone.

He heard a sniffle and his head shot over to the table in the corner of the covered area.

“Harrington?”

What the hell was he even doing out here? Was he crying?

“I’ll be in in a minute.”

Jesus. He sounded like someone had tried to strangle him. Was he sick?

“Dude, you okay?” Eddie steps closer, hopes he doesn’t end up regretting choosing kindness. “It’s kinda cold out here.”

Steve was sitting in a chair, knees up to his chest, arms around his legs. His face was half-buried in his knees, but Eddie could still make out the shivering.

“Yeah. Just needed some air.”

“You shouldn’t stay out here long without a jacket, man.”

Steve didn’t respond.

Eddie was actually growing more concerned for him, like maybe he’d been drugged with something and couldn’t move.

“Hey, look at me,” Eddie snaps his fingers in Steve’s face, relaxing slightly when he glares up at him with surprisingly clear, but watery eyes. “You need a jacket.”

“I’m fine. Go back inside.”

“You won’t be if you sit out here much longer. You’ll freeze to death. And then I’ll have to live the rest of my life knowing I could have stopped it by making you go inside and I’ll die feeling guilty.”

Was it dramatic? Yes. Did it make Steve give the tiniest smile and lift his head to look at him completely? Also yes.

“It wouldn’t be your fault.”

There was a cut under Steve’s left eye, and as his eyes adjust to the light coming from the windows, he sees a purple bruise surrounding most of the left side of his face.

“What happened?”

“The crown was pretty heavy when it fell,” Steve laughs without humor.

Eddie feels his stomach sink further.

“Who did this?”

It’s not like Eddie could do much, but maybe he could at least make sure he didn’t sell to the guy.

“Doesn’t matter.” Steve placed his legs down, careful, like he was trying not to hurt himself more. “You got anything left?”

Eddie should say no. He should leave now, head to the comfort and warmth of the trailer, forget about this interaction entirely. Maybe give one awkward head nod to Steve at school on Monday as an acknowledgment he didn’t forget, but won’t say anything to anyone.

“Just the one joint. You want it?” Eddie set his lunchbox on the table across from Steve and sat down.

“How much?” Steve turned to face him, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“Free for the host.”

That’s not something Eddie ever did, but if anyone needed it, it was Steve.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Well, I am. You got a lighter on you?”

Steve shook his head.

“Then I light it and get the first drag. Deal?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie is gonna regret this entire interaction, but of all his regrets, it’s probably pretty low on the list, so he pulls his lighter out and does exactly what he said he would.

Steve is watching him so intensely, it’s almost enough to make him blush. He won’t, he hopes, but it’s a hell of an effort.

“This why you’re sitting out here instead of enjoying your party?” Eddie asked as he hands over the joint.

“Part of it,” Steve takes a long drag. “Just tired of it.”

“Tired of what?”

“All of it.”

An alarm starts going off in Eddie’s head, a reminder that Steve may seem like he’s got the entire world, but those who hold the world tend to lose their grip.

“All of it meaning…”

“All of this. The parties, the people who only like me because I have money and throw parties, the popularity contest I didn’t even ask to participate in, the fucking concussions and nightmares. I’m just-“ Steve takes another drag. “I’m just tired. You should go back inside.”

Eddie watches him lean back in his chair, his shirt riding up and exposing just enough of his stomach to see a scar. The moonlight reflects off the lighter line of skin.

“Nah. Kinda like it out here. It’s quiet. Company ain’t bad either.”

Steve looks back at him with a frown. “Don’t have to pretend to like me, dude. Everyone else already does that enough.”

“Who said I like you? I’m tolerating you.” Eddie smirks, waits for Steve to recognize he’s joking. When Steve relaxes, he nods towards the scar on Steve’s stomach. “Appendix?”

“What?” Steve glances down. “Oh. Yeah. When I was 12.”

“I was 14 when I got mine out,” Eddie lifts his layers to show off his matching scar. “My Uncle Wayne thought I was dying. He didn’t even know what an appendix was, let alone that it can cause all this trouble.”

“Yeah. My parents weren’t home when mine ruptured so I had to call the neighbors.”

Eddie frowns down at the table. “They leave you alone a lot? Even then?”

“Yeah. Not a big deal. I made it through okay.”

Okay isn’t the word Eddie would describe, but Eddie didn’t wanna argue.

“You eat a ridiculous amount of ice cream after?” Eddie’s smile grew when Steve nodded. “I convinced Wayne it was the only thing I could eat for nearly a week after.”

Steve laughed, Eddie smiles.

“You got a nice laugh, Harrington.”

He watches as Steve gets red in the face, a beautiful blush covering his cheeks and spreading down his neck.

“Not sure the last time I really laughed,” Steve admitted.

“Shame.”

Eddie stood up, grabbed his lunchbox, and walked around to stand in front of Steve. Steve looked up at him with glassy eyes, the high already sinking in.

“Want me to clear everyone out?” Eddie shouldn’t offer that, or anything. But Steve looks so lost, so tired.

“Nah. It’s nice just not being alone, even if it’s people I don’t like.”

“That’s fucked, man.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve shrugged. “Thanks for the weed.”

“Anytime.”

Eddie doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it’s the one drag of the joint he’d taken, maybe it’s the cold air, or maybe it’s just that annoying crush he’s had on Steve Harrington for years.

He reaches out, cups Steve’s cheek in his hand, and holds him for just a moment.

Neither of them say anything when Steve leans into it.

They don’t say anything when Eddie pulls away with a sad smile.

They won’t talk about it again at school.

But when Steve saves Eddie from the Upside Down a full year later, when he’s sitting at his bedside cupping Eddie’s cheek in his hand, they both seem to remember at the same time.

“We’ve got two matching scars now, Harrington.”

“Don’t think the appendix has anything on demobat scars, Munson.”

“What happened to calling me honey? I liked that.”

“What happened to sweetheart?”

Eddie let out a small laugh. “You’re gonna be trouble, sweetheart.”

“But I’m gonna be your trouble, honey.”

[nathaslosthershit]

After All This Time

Summary:(Part 2 to The Truth Behind it All) After years of no contact, watching as his career continues to thrive, getting a message from Charles is the last thing she had expected, but she wasn’t the only one surprised after finally reconnecting. 

He had thought about this for a long time. The urge to reach out is one he had felt for years since they separated, but he could never push himself to do it. Then one day, five years later, he couldn’t take it anymore and sent her a message. Charles hadn’t thought he would be able to easily get into contact with her. Five years of silence on both sides didn’t give him much hope, so when she had answered his message hours after he sent it, he felt relieved.

---

From Charles Leclerc:

Hello. It has been a long time and I know this is sudden. I understand that it might not be okay for me to be doing this, and if it isn’t I understand if you do not answer but I still wanted to try. We left off on bad terms, our relationship had gone bad quicker than I think we had thought possible. I was hoping if we could meet up, for closure if anything else. I await your reply, but know that you do not need to give me one.

All the best, 

Charlie

Reply to Charles Leclerc:

Charles,

It is a surprise to hear from you, I won’t lie. But it isn’t an unwelcome one. I hope you are well! We did leave things badly and I would also like to get the chance to speak. Thank you for reaching out. I await your reply now.

---

After much back and forth, the two had decided when Charles traveled to her current country of residence for a race, they would meet. It took a few months, both waiting nervously for the day to arrive. When it did, they both met at a restaurant close to her place.

The first thing he noticed when he saw her was how much more beautiful she was. She still looked the same, maybe a little more wear and tear but she wore it with this air of maturity and wisdom she didn’t have last time he had seen her. She had grown a lot in the past five years and he could tell. It was nice to see.

He also looked the same but also different. She had noticed he too had this air of confidence that was less cocky and more founded on the fact that he had achieved so much, not just that he thought he could.

“You look… beautiful.” Charles said.

“You are very handsome yourself, although I think you have enough people telling you that regularly that it probably has lost all meaning.”

“Ha, It is nice to hear it from you though. How have you been? What are you doing now?”

“Still working in my same field. I got offered a better job here though, that's why I moved. I’d ask how racing is going but I already know the answer to that.”

“You watch my races?”

“I have never missed one. Even when we had just broken up. I am so proud, Charlie.”

“I thought you’d have stopped, especially with how cruel everyone was.”

“Nothing could ruin my love for it. Though we weren’t together, I still wanted to support you.”

This made Charles tear up. And watching him tear up made her do the same. They could feel all the love they once had for each other, but it was different this time.

“Are you seeing anyone? Have you settled? It must be hard to do that when you are on the road so much.” She asked.

“Ah no. I have tried but it is hard to get people to stick around through all of it. All the good and the bad.” This made her feel guilty. She had realized long after that she had put him in a hard position. He could have fought harder for them, but she could have too.

“I am sorry, Charles. You deserve someone stronger who can get through it. I wasn’t that person but I know they are out there.” “It is okay, I promise. We both weren’t ready for everything that came our way. It wasn’t fair to either of us but I should have tried to fight harder. I am sorry too.” They were silent as they held each other’s hands, until he asked, “What about you? Have you settled down?” She couldn’t miss the hopeful tone in his voice that just broke her heart.

“Yes actually. I met someone 5 months after we broke up. Married a year later. Had two kids after that. Twins.” It almost killed her to watch as his heart broke a second time hearing this. But even as hard as it was to tell him she moved on, she couldn’t stop how her eyes would light up talking about her family.

How could he be mad when she was so happy? 

“I am so happy to hear that.” He said. He was, deep down, even if it still hurt.

“My kids love watching your races. My husband says they are destined to go into motorsports, we are looking to put them into karting as soon as they are old enough. They love it.”

He laughed. The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree then. It made sense her kids would have inherited her love for the sport.

 “When they are older I would be happy to invite them onto the paddock. If you are comfortable, of course.”

“They would love that! Oh, Charles, thank you.” 

Conversation flowed easily after that. Two people, once so connected, catching up after all this time.

After a couple hours, she had a family to get back to, and he had a plane to catch later. He smiled the whole way home, it was a bittersweet moment. But once he got to his hotel, he let himself cry, mourn what could have been. What he didn’t know was that she was doing the same. She loved her husband with every fiber of her being. If she had the chance to do it over again she wouldn’t change a thing, too happy with her life now. But it still hurt to imagine a different version of their story, one where they stayed together. 

In another universe maybe.

Taglist: @mirrorball-6, @itsjustkhaos, @janeholt3, @loloekie, @babelllllllll, @ivegotparticulartaste

(Names crossed out couldn’t be tagged for whatever reason)

[mingtinysworld]

Copycat

Pairing: Choi San x Jung Wooyoung

Genre: idol au, established relationship, smut

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: While San is on a live with fans, he comes across fanfiction and wants to share it with his ever the obedient boyfriend Wooyoung.

Warnings: MDNI mxm, anal, fingering, degradation, nipple play, handjob, lil bit of spanking, San dom (he tries)

A/n - when I heard that San came across fanfiction, I lost it. And then I had this brilliant idea😃 so yeah I hope you enjoy. It’s also my first time writing mxm and it’s HARD (hehe) but yeah please like, comment, and reblog! Love youuuu - J<3

It had been a while since San had gone live. Atinys had been begging for a San live forever. He’d been so busy with all his schedules, he didn’t have any time.

Finally, after a tiring performance, he decided he could go live. He settled in bed, all cozy with his dark blue silk pajamas. Already having taken off his makeup, he opts for the voice only option. He figures that’s good enough, and presses start.

“Hi everyone! Sorry that it’s voice only today, I just took my makeup off! But I’m super excited to spend time with you today. Ask any questions you’d like!”

The chat rolled by quickly as usual, most comments being confessions of love that flatter yet overwhelm him. He continues talking about his long day and responding to random comments here and there. One comment catches his eyes and he scrolls back to find it.

“‘How many times do I search up my name?’ Hmm that’s a good question. I’d say not too much, just once in a while. You know what, I should search up my name now, why not.”

They can hear San’s speedy typing, and wait with anticipation. San lets out a little ‘aha’ and starts listing off things relating to his name. “Alright let’s see. San mama, San bouncy, San crazy form, San fanfiction, San…wait what?” He takes a few seconds to read. “What does that mean?”

The chat goes ballistic. The comments go by at the speed of lightning, begging San to ignore it. San gets flustered at all the comments. “What do you mean don’t search it? Why not? Is it a bad thing?”

Curiosity gets the best of San and he types in “San fanfiction”. The chat is still screaming at him to stop. He clicks on the first link, directing him to a website. As he scrolls, a title catches his eye.

“Woosan fight club.”

That intrigues him, and he starts reading. The fans hear silence on his end, and continue freaking out. As San goes past the first paragraph, he can feel an erection forming and tries so hard to keep it together. Realizing he needs to get back to the live, he clears his throat, trying hard to sound normal.

“Ahhh so that’s what it is,” he says quietly. “You guys sure know how to have fun.” He forces out a chuckle. Desperately needing to leave, he sticks around for a bit more in order to not seem suspicious.

Finally after the most torturous ten minutes, he says goodnight to Atinys and ends the live. Letting out a groan of frustration, he palms himself through his pants, needing friction. As his hips raise to meet his hand, he realizes he needs more. He stands up from his bed abruptly, leaving the dorm. Not even bothering to throw on a shirt, he runs down the stairs in a rush.

Coming up to the door, he knocks urgently, disregarding the neighbors. The door opens and there stands a disheveled looking Wooyoung.

“S-san? What are you doing here?” He asks in a confused tone. He glances at the clock. “It’s 12:30.” San pushes past him into the living room. Looking around for traces of Hongjoong or Jongho, he turns back to Wooyoung.

“Where are the others?” He asks him. Wooyoung still looking confused answers. “They’re both asleep, but San I still don’t understand why-”

Wooyoung’s words are cut off as San smashes his lips against his, Wooyoung stumbling backwards. He lets out muffled gasps, while San sinks his teeth into his lower lip. In between loud smacks, Wooyoung manages to get out a few words.

“San what the hell are you doing?” Even through the confusion, he kisses San like his life depends on it. He only gets shushed in return, getting no answer, but that doesn’t matter too much when he’s being devoured by the love of his life. San starts to lead Wooyoung towards his room, not once letting go.

“I have something to show you,” San says breathlessly. He pulls out his phone from his pocket and scrolls through dozens of Ateez fan fiction.

“Choose from any of these and I will do whatever it says in it.” San can’t even contain his excitement.

Wooyoung starts protesting. “What in the…” he trails off as he sees the content. He swallows tightly and turns to look at San who is in the process of taking his pants off.

“Oh god, ok ok, I’ll choose this one.” He stops on a Woosan one, how ironic.

San lets out a wicked grin. “Alright baby, your wish is my command.” He pushes Wooyoung down once again, with more intensity. Trailing his mouth up his collarbones, leaving sloppy, wet kisses upon his exposed skin. As he nears his ear, he lets out a sensual whisper.

“One condition though. You read to me what’s happening and I’ll do it.”

Wooyoung tries not to show his eagerness but fails, letting out an excited giggle. It’s pretty much a dream come true for the pervert that he is.

San assists Wooyoung in taking off his pants, moving on to his shirt next. He hands him the phone with the filthy smut, clammy hands reaching out in a grabbing motion.

He gives San a cheeky grin while shuffling his hips closer to the edge of the bed. San groans at the feel of their skin on each other. “Ok baby, get to reading now.”

A throaty moan leaves Wooyoung‘s mouth as San grabs the base of his cock. His body convulses from the sudden attack, and he drops the phone onto his stomach. San continues sliding his hand up and down his shaft, stimulating Wooyoung in a way that has him thrashing around.

Pressing his thumb onto the slit, Wooyoung tenses and lets out a whine.

“What did I say about reading? Get to it.”

Wooyoung shivers at San’s commanding tone. He tries to get it together and firmly grasps the phone in his hands.

“San ran his hands all over Wooyoung’s torso, brushing past his sensitive nipples, sending a shiver through his lithe body.”

And San does just that. He splays out a hand on his chest, running his nails up and down. He pinches his nipple, having no mercy whatsoever. Pinching, twisting, pulling. He was simultaneously still pumping his leaking, desperate cock.

Wooyoung feels like he’s going insane, he needs a release. Yelping out slightly, he holds onto San’s hand.

“San, oh my god please I can’t-” San speeds up his actions, shoving two fingers into Wooyoung’s mouth to shut him up.

Wooyoung comes with a muffled moan, hips bucking up, searching for more friction and also stinging from overstimulation.

Even though San is feeling devilish, he still has enough mercy to let Wooyoung relax from his intense orgasm.

His chest is heaving up and down, eyes closed and hand gripping the sheets. After a few more deep breaths, Wooyoung comes to a realization that he only got one sentence out of the fanfiction. Fearfully, he peeks out at San, expecting an angry face ready to punish him. However, a soft smile graces his face.

“Baby, I know I wanted you to read the story, but I can’t handle your attention not being fully on me.”

Wooyoung lets out a breathy laugh at that. Oh San. He’s always trying to pretend that he’s so in charge, but he can’t help being needy and selfishly wanting attention.

He throws the phone away gladly, and pushes San down against him in a passionate kiss. Wooyoung attacks with his tongue, fighting for dominance. San is however having none of that.

He flips up Wooyoung onto his knees, and pushes his head into the pillow.

“Do not move,” San growls out.

Sliding off the bed, he reaches for the lube in their nightstand. Twisting it open, he lets a glob fall from onto Wooyoung’s awaiting hole. As the cold liquid drips down, he clenches around nothing. Smearing it around, he shoves in a finger with no warning.

Wooyoung lets out the most pathetic whine known to mankind, moving his hips side to side. San smacks his hand down onto his ass, leaving a faint red hand mark.

“Maybe if I fuck you open with my fingers you’ll learn how to shut up huh? What do you think?”

He adds a second finger, having no pity. To his delight, Wooyoung is too out of it to get out any words. All he can hear is muffled moans and sobs.

He decides he’s opened up enough and pulls his fingers out with a pop. Wooyoung’s greedy hole twitches, missing being full.

San pumps his own cock a few times, getting himself ready to fuck the life out of his boyfriend. He lines himself up and slowly pushes in. Of course he loves being mean, but he doesn’t want to genuinely hurt Wooyoung. As soon as Wooyoung is filled to the brim, San starts thrusting shallowly.

With each thrust, Wooyoung’s face gets squished into the pillow more and more. He lets out a scream.

“San!!”

“Oh now the dirty whore found his words. You’re enjoying this a bit too much aren’t you.”

He lets down a few more smacks, resulting in Wooyoung moaning loudly, almost howling.

San keeps pounding into Wooyoung, gripping his skin so tightly that it leaves crescent nail marks. He grits his teeth, putting everything he’s got into this. The sound of the headboard banging against the wall completely escapes him, not even caring about the neighbors at the moment. He’ll deal with it later.

“Fuck fuck fuck San.” Wooyoung just babbles absently, so fucked out he can’t think of anything else to say.

As San’s hips drill into Wooyoung harder, he nears his climax. Wanting to make Wooyoung come again, he reaches around him, gripping his leaking cock. Wooyoung cries out at the extra stimulation and his knees almost give out.

San thrusts for a few more seconds, and he comes with a loud groan, right into Wooyoung’s ass. As he pulls out, his cum drips out, leaving a trail of the dirty deed.

Wooyoung collapses onto the bed, without having San holding him up. He feels like he could just fall asleep he’s so tired. He feels San leave the bed and he lets out a low whine at his absence.

San comes back with a warm, wet towel. Gently cleaning up Wooyoung, he leaves soft, fluttery kisses along his back. Wooyoung lets out steady breaths, finally being able to relax from the torture (fun).

San climbs into bed with him, cuddling him close. Wooyoung reaches out a hand to caress San’s soft face.

“I love you so much San.” He whispers. San closes his eyes and gives him a peck on his hand.

“I love you even more baby.”

As they both settle down to sleep, he hears a vibration on the nightstand. He turns to grab his phone, and sees a message from Hongjoong.

“Why don’t you be a little louder you bastards. Fuck you, I want to sleep”

San stifles his laughter and turns back around with no guilt whatsoever.

[aetlasx]

prologue

pair: eddie munson x witch!reader

summary: Ah, memories. You journal your first day of high school, but things quickly take a turn just a few weeks later.

tw: menstruation, pad/tampons, bullying, name calling (pls lmk if there’s anything I missed)

a/n: just stick with me lol. he’ll be in the first part. Also, this is an AU!! For spooky season!! thank you so much for reading!!

*the chat font is the diary entry and it goes back to normal at the end*

August 22nd, 1983 It's been a few months since i've written in this thing. I thought it'd be a good time to start now since I finally made it to high school!

You know what that means? Four more years till I leave this shithole!! Better than five. June was actually waiting by the door when I got home, she really wanted to hear every detail of how it went. I told her about my classes, I have Jonathan in two and Nancy in several. I told her how the school and people were so different from anything I was used to. But, it doesn't take her long to find something wrong with the way I think. She started with her usual warnings and advice, all the things I need to avoid, all the mistakes I shouldn't make. I know she's just trying to protect me, but it feels like she can never have trust in her little sister.

On the other hand, at least Teddy asked if I had fun. He's always been the one who knows how to lighten the mood, especially knowing how his wife is. He asked about my teachers and any clubs that looked cool enough to join. He even asked about Jonathan and Nancy.

Jonathan was definitely not as excited as me. He's quite, but he's always been that way.I know that his mom was excited for his first day of high school, she even convinced him to bring his camera. Right now, I'm trying to convince him to join the newspaper but he just shrugs me off. And Nancy, well, although it's been one–girl is practically glow. Within just 8 hours of the school day, she was able to meet a boy. She kept gushing about him and is pretty excited for the rest of the school year here. I'm genuinely happy for her.

Before June could add her two cents, I interrupted her with how I stopped by Aunt Claudia's after school to see how Dustin's day went. He was already sprawled out on the couch, 'exhausted' from fighting with his new math teacher. It had been a bit since I had seen them, I slaved away my summer at my job so stopping by, I felt grateful that they weren't even mad. I'll have to start hanging out with him again.

Anyways, I’m determined to make the most of freshman year with my friends. I’m ready to prove that I’m more than just a product of this stupid town.

Wish me luck!!

September 16th, 1983

I think I lied. I don’t know where to start…but a four year wait is too long. I don’t know where it all went wrong but it started over the weekend.

Sometimes I’d like to think that if my mom was still around, this wouldn’t have happened. Hell, June is like my mom, why did it happen. I’m talking about mother nature’s gift. It seemed as though no on thought to inform me that a girls first period would be this chaotic.

Nance and I had a movie night planned. I hadn’t really talked to her much, only in class, because her new boy toy or whatever—Steve Harrington, was taking up most of her time. I thought this would be a good time to just catch up and gossip, I was wrong. That Friday was horrible. I ended up throwing up, getting the chills, my body ached to no end. But I was still determined to make movie night happen, especially since June and Teddy were gone for the weekend.

As I was dying on the couch, Nancy finally showed up. But to my disappointment, it was only to cancel. Her and Steve were going out on their first date. I don’t know if it was how hot I was feeling or my intestines twisting, but black spots started clouding my vision. I just remember her screaming for Steve and once I knew it, I woke up in the hospital.

What I’m about to write, I’ll say with confidentiality…probably because I’m the only one reading this. Whatever.

A period is probably normal for all females. What’s not normal is having to go to the hospital and having your best friend’s boyfriend make fun of you because the doctor called you a late bloomer. I mean, she apologized but, if I could’ve just died on that bed, I wouldn’t be here.

Even June lectured me when I interrupted her weekend getaway. The whole ride home she kept complaining and saying ‘how could I not know’ and ‘you just gave us another unnecessary bill’. Like, sorry my baby’s natural response has ruined something for you.

Fuck. That’s not even the worst part. When Monday came back around, everyone was looking at me when I walked in. I know how cliche it sounds after what had just happened but knowing how popular Harrington was and who his friends were, he had already told the whole school by now. During gym, Carol and a few other girls threw pads and tampons at me. I got called ‘Bloody Mary’ and ‘Leak Freak’ in the hallways, at lunch, and anytime anyone had the chance. I tried to stay strong, I even hoped Nancy would say something to me during class or at least when she saw me but she just looked at me with sympathetic eyes. It’s just hard to believe that a few weeks ago, everything was fine. We were making fun of our teacher, gossiping with Barb, and even went shopping but I guess things change. Now when I look at her I’m just consumed with rage.

Jonathan has been supportive, though. The evening I got out of the hospital, he had actually brought over some of my favorite snacks and listened to me cry all night. Even when the mocking was bad, he’s stuck by my side. He’s told some kids to fuck off, walks me to class, and I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong but knowing that I have to wake up and go through it again doesn’t really ease my pain.

I feel like my chances of making friends and actually joining some clubs are ruined. When I try talking to some new, they give me dirty looks. When I go to ask about different clubs, they turn me away. I’ve lost hope. Thought this was suppose to be a fresh start but I guess not.

And just to add more salt to the wound, I haven’t been able to sleep. Every time I close my eyes and drift to away, I’m met with such an unsettling environment. The atmosphere is thick, groggy, red. It’s coated in fog, but a man I’ve never seen before always walks through it. He says his name is Henry, he starts talking about my worries and pain. It’s always the same—he says he’s ‘there to help me’, he’s there to ‘take away the pain because he knows what it’s like’. I truly don’t know what has caused my subconscious to create things like this but I guess I’m just tired of feeling like shit.

I don’t even know why I bother keeping a journal around. Sometimes I feel like I won’t even be here in the future to reminisce on the shitty days like this. Why would I even? I guess it’s just easier to write these things down than having to say them out loud. I thought I’d be able to make my sister, aunt, cousin, and friends proud, but I’m starting to think I’m just not cut out for this.

Closing the diary, the blonde places it back in the shoebox you hid it in. Pushing it back under your bed, standing from the place he sat. A satisfied smirk on his face.

He’d been following your turmoil closely, knowing that this was just the turning point. Your struggles were feeding into his plans. This entry was straw that broke the camels back—your vulnerabilities, your fears, and your desperations. It was almost too easy.

“Your suffering is almost poetic,” Henry said to himself, walking out of your room, your house, determined to take action now. He planned to finally confront you, to force you to acknowledge the full extent of what your destiny could be with his help—with what he had to offer.

[thus-spoke-lo]

cw: yandere!gn!reader. use of restraints. obsessive/delusional behavior [reader]. implied extremely dubious consent. sexually suggestive. uses prompts from here. wc: 750 Yandere Minific Masterlist

“Don’t you think the seastone is a little unnecessary?” Sanji winds his body again, just as he has been for hours now, pulling against the slack you’ve left him—just enough to let him think he has a chance at freedom. But you’ve studied him, read all the newspapers, traveled to islands to hear first-hand accounts, and you know just what it will take to keep him right where you want him.

“It’s just a precaution, my love,” you coo, watching sweat bead on his forehead, his pretty blonde hair clinging to his skin. His skin is flushed, reddened from exertion, his chest heaving with panting breaths—just the way you picture it will be once he’s ravished you, devoured you, whispered your name against your skin as he fills you over and over again.

“My friends will come for me,” he says through gritted teeth as he bends and twists once more, balling his hands into fists. “My friends will come, and then you’ll regret this—I can assure of you that!”

“Careful now, mon cher—you don’t want to mess up your beautiful hands,” you chide, clucking your tongue as you stroke his skin and lean down to pry his fist open and press his slender fingers against your cheek. A shudder runs down your spine, electricity sparking in your nerves—he feels like heaven. You turn your face and kiss the palm of his hand, sticking out the tip of your tongue and running the pointed tip up along his middle finger. “I want to know how you’ll taste between my teeth, is that so wrong?”

“Maybe in another life, I’d fall in love with you, angel,” he scoffs, though you can detect a softness in his tone, a kindness towards his captor that, though probably undeserved, is deeply desired. “But it won’t happen like this.”

It’s cute how he resists, charming even. He doesn’t yet understand the kindness you’ve done for him, the way you’ve saved him from himself. All those women he’d been known to flirt with and fawn over, they could never love him the way you do, the way you will. They don’t appreciate him—not a one of them, and certainly not those beguiling harlots that he sails with. They don’t deserve the artistry of his cooking that you’ve heard so many stories about, they don’t deserve his kind heart and his giving nature, they don’t deserve him. But you—you deserve him, don’t you? You deserve a man who will throw himself at your feet and worship you, who will care for you and make sure you’re never hungry for food or love. And he’s right here in front of you, all yours for as long as you both shall live.

“Oh Sanji, you’re even more handsome than the way people describe you." He barely suppresses a grin as you lavish him with praise—it’s working just as intended, the Strawhats’ Love Cook will be wound around your finger in no time at all, dancing on the precipice of love, ready to fall for you with just the slightest push. "The pictures in the paper don’t do you an ounce of justice.”

You straddle his lap and he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as you lightly grind against him. He lets out a soft, strangled noise that you can only assume was a groan that he tried (and failed) to suppress; he may be resistant, but if there’s one thing you know about Blackleg Sanji, it’s that he can’t resist a pretty face, even if it belongs to the one who captured him and bound him in chains.

“You think you can just”—Sanji turns his head away from you and clenches his eyes shut, as if not gazing upon you will stop how his body betrays him—“just say some nice things and press your body—your warm, soft body—against me and I’ll just forgive you for what you’ve done?”

“Sanji, Sanji, Sanji—you’ll fall in love with me in due time, just like the good boy I know you are.” You lean down and bury your face in his neck, shuddering at the spice of his cologne, the subtle musk of his sweat. You gently nip at his neck, tasting the salt of his skin, and sigh as you feel him beginning to stir beneath you as his hips lift to meet yours, almost of their own accord. “You just look so delicious…and I won't stop until I’ve eaten every bite.”

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!artist!reader

Part 17: A creature of love, I can't be tamed

masterlist playlist

18+ONLY, series typical violence, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex with someone other than Eddie and reader, hate-fucking (consensual), oral (m receiving), sexual harassment, biker!steve, biker!billy, protective!eddie, rocker!nancy

word count: 6.4k

songs: I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, Wild Child by W.A.S.P. and Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative

The second half of your first night back at the Velvet Hammer heats up with Eddie on stage, Charlene on the premises with Billy, and Steve working through his emotions in a moment of carnal desire.

authors note: It has felt so good to get back to writing this story, I missed our biker boys so much. It will probably be another week or two until the next part, but you won't have to wait too long. Thank you for your patience, I love you.

There came the sound of shrill feedback from the stage, and the drummer twisted his stick around his fingers before clapping the high hat. You took your break and met Eddie over by the carpeted hallway.  The two of you huddled together, out of view from the front half of the bar, including Charlene and Billy.  

“What’s Steve going to do?” You hushed, feeling the familiar anxiety rise inside of you that someone might get hurt again.  

“Nothing for now,” Eddie exhaled.  You put your hand on his chest, and he held it there. “You let me worry about Steve and Charlene, you have enough to do.  I won’t let anything go sideways in here tonight.”

You told him about what you’d just learned from Shana, about Charlene being part owner of the Velvet Hammer, and he gave a slow blink, dragging out a long, ragged breath.  “Why does that not surprise me,” you could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning. “She can’t have this place, it’s ours,” he growled, walking you down the hall and clanking open the heavy metal back door to the alley.  

“But,” you started.  Eddie pulled a pack of smokes out of his front pocket and sparked a flame from his zippo to light the end.  “Isn’t it too late for that? It sounds like she already took it?”

You held two fingers like you were making a peace sign for Eddie to pass you a smoke and he raised his eyebrow at you curiously.  You gave a nod, answering his unspoken question, and he put a second one between his lips to light it for you before passing it over.  

You took a tiny drag and coughed smoke out of your nose at first, but then the second inhale was smoother.  Thanks to so many nights at the Hammer, your throat and lungs were sufficiently coated with tar and ready for the challenge.  

The other owner of the Hammer was a well known real estate investor and builder named Murray Bauman, and he was a friend of the MC.  They’d done several “jobs” for him over the years that were clean by MC standards, but dirty enough to ruin his reputation if they came to light. Murray was also notoriously unfriendly with the Gregson’s, and Eddie wondered how much Charlene had paid, and what kind of scandal she’d dug up on Stephen, to make him give up his share like that.  

Eddie tilted his head back, exposing his throat, to take a long, thoughtful drag, looking up at the clear sky that was blinking full of stars.  “I wish I could go back in time before I ever met Charlene, and avoid her at all costs.”

“I don’t know,” you looked down and kicked the heel of your shoe against your toe.  “She’s awfully determined.  I think she would’ve found you anyway.  Plus, I don’t think it’s you she wants anymore.”

“I feel responsible though,” Eddie muttered, blowing smoke out through tight lips. “For everything that’s happened to the people around me because of her.”

The sound of Nancy saying something into the mic, followed by the crowd cheering, came muffled through the door, and you really wanted to change the subject, to pull him out of his dark thoughts.  “I’d love to see you play tonight,” you told him right before both of your cherries glowed orange at the same time in the dark.  

“I don’t have my guitar here,” he stated the obvious, sucking his tongue on the roof on a sharp inhale, angling his head back to blow smoke up while keeping his eyes on you.  “But I might sing one or two with her.  Just for you.”

“You can sing too?” Your eyes got wide like a little kid watching the twinkling lights on a Christmas tree.

“Hi, baby, have we met?” He scoffed, slipping his bottom lip through his teeth to repress a grin, and then he winked at you and smashed his smoke on the brick wall before throwing it in the dumpster. He caught you by the hips and pulled you flush to him.  “I mean, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

—--------

Back on his stool, Steve rolled a toothpick between his lips while he scanned the crowd, and did his best not to look over at Billy and Charlene. He wasn’t sure what was eating at him more; the fact that she had the nerve to show up after everything, or that she was there with Billy.  

The crew from Lucifer’s Own were known for doing the dirty deeds no other MC would touch.  They ran a high-end escort service on the outskirts of town, and did a lot of blow and opiate smuggling over the border.  It was also a front for an underground fighting ring that was dirty and rigged, and sometimes, the fools who participated ended up with broken bones, or had their lights turned out completely.  

Billy Hargrove and Steve went way back, and they’d actually been friendly acquaintances for a while back in high school, until Billy had pursued a girl Steve liked at the time just to piss him off. Also, to prove to Steve that he could take whoever he wanted.  “Nothing wrong with a little competition, right, Harrington?” Is that what this was? Was Billy escorting Charlene around just to rub it in Steve’s face?

“Yeah, well, you can have her,” Steve mumbled to himself under his breath, thoughts racing so fast that he was starting to talk to himself, head bent to work the end of the toothpick with his fingers.  “Good luck with that one, buddy, you’ll need it.”

There was more feedback from the speakers.  “Hey there Hawkins, who is ready to rock?” Nancy purred into the microphone, one hand gripping the fretboard of her guitar before she slung the strap around her body. People shouted and cheered, and there were a few high-pitched whistles of encouragement.

The bassist with the band looked like a younger version of Eddie, but with a mane of black hair that was thick with tight curls, and the drummer had a black goatee and long, straight hair way past his shoulders.  The backup guitarist looked like he was cut right out of the James Hetfeild playbook.  

“We’re gonna start out with a little something familiar to get y’all warmed up,” Nancy said into the mic.  “This one is called I Hate Myself for Loving You.”

The crowd roared, pounding their fists on the tables.  Nancy said a countdown before she began a slow clap to the beat and the drums kicked in, deep bass vibrating in the walls.  

When Steve looked up, he saw Charlene making her way across the room, either for the payphone or the restrooms, and Steve straightened up, wondering if he should say something to her.  He went up to the bar and patted Thumper on his broad back, asking him to watch the door for a few minutes.  Thumper was three beers and several shots in, but was not yet showing any signs of inebriation.  He fisted a handful of his graying beard and told Steve it was no problem.  

“Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you?

You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two

I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you…”

He followed but he hung back, hiding in the crowd until he saw her go into one of the bathrooms.  When you and Eddie came out from the alley, you found Steve leaning against the wall that was heavily papered in band flyers, next to the payphone.  

Eddie was walking behind you,his hands firm on your hips, moving his legs in time with yours.  You both came to a halt at the sight of Steve, and you had to shove off, back to work, but Eddie took your hand to kiss your knuckles before you walked away.

“Everything cool?” Eddie asked his friend, checking around to make sure no chaos had ensued while he’d been outside with you.  There was a huge crowd there, packed in like sardines.  All of the tables and bar stools were occupied, and plenty of people were taking advantage of the standing room only, blocking most of the walkways.  

“I’m not sure yet, man,” Steve put his head back against the wall, Adam’s apple jutting out.  “But I’ll let you know.”

“I called Van and told him to get over here with Devlin,” Eddie let him know.  “Just in case more of Lucifer’s Own try to cause trouble.”

Steve only nodded, absently, his eyes twitching to the bathroom door every so often.  Eddie clapped Steve a few times on the arm before turning to watch the band as he pushed his way through the crowd.  Nancy made her fingers into devil horns in the air at him and Eddie returned the gesture, raising his arm high.  

“I think of you every night and day

You took my heart and you took my pride away…”

The crowd was stomping their feet to the rhythm and belting out the chorus.  Nancy detached the mic from the stand to make her way across the stage.  

The second Steve saw the door open, he took long strides across the hallway to keep Charlene from exiting, pushing her back inside the single-person bathroom.  She did not protest as he braced the door and locked it behind him, turning to face her with a tight jaw.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Char?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” She hushed it, dropping her gaze as if suddenly she was afraid to look at him.  “I missed you.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlene, you need to stop.” He rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated.  “I’m sorry for how I treated you at the hotel, but this needs to end.”

“But what if I don’t want to stop?” She closed in on him, lifting her hands to hold his face, but he blocked the effort, restraining her at the wrists. “What if I want you so bad, it hurts?”

He met her eyes.  “You miss me and you thought fucking Billy would be the answer?”

“We’re not fucking, it’s not like that with him.  Not like it was with you.”  She struggled a little in his grasp just so he would tighten his grip on her.

Steve scoffed.  “You mean, not like it was with me and Eddie and your husband and every other dude you’ve spread your legs for in this town?” Steve wasn’t one to judge, not with the amount of pussy he’d run through over the years, but still, showing up with one of his rivals was a low blow.  

Charlene slammed forward so that Steve’s back hit the door, her breath hot and urgent on his neck. “No one fills me up like you do.  I need your cock to split me open one last time, Stevie, please.”

She sank to her knees, kissing down his chest as she went, and he let her, releasing her wrists so that she could make quick work of unbuttoning his Levi’s.  She licked around his balls and nuzzled her face in the hair at the base of his thick shaft, making hungry gasps of need as she did so.

He hissed when the fat head of his cock sank into her mouth. “Juss…just one more time,” he groaned as she lapped him up.  She hummed around his length and nodded, looking up at him, agreeing as her lips strained to take the measure of his girth.  

“I know you’re angry, Steve,” she flicked her tongue out over the ridge a few times like a poisonous snake about to strike.  “I want you to take it out on me.”

He fisted a handful of her hair, tight, so that he controlled the movements of her head, and it made her whimper with pleasure.  

—------

The next song Divine Filth sang was an original, a real headbanger that had Nancy growling into the mic and jabbing her devil horn fingers in the air. The bass guitarist’s fingers strummed the keys while the drummer spun his sticks high in the air and caught them.  You noticed that a few of the male patrons were choosing to go outside to take a piss, which meant there was another line at the bathrooms again, but you were too busy to go over and check out why.  

While Erika was on her break, it was your responsibility to go over and check on Billy, since Jackie was working the other side of the room.  Two more of the Coffin Kings had just arrived and Eddie was out in the parking lot having a talk with them, being that it was hard to have a conversation inside with the band playing. 

You made your way over to Billy’s table, noticing that Charlene was nowhere to be found.  One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin while he watched you approach, and you wondered if he knew who you were and who you belonged to.  You also wondered if he gave a shit.

As you got closer, you noticed that he had a pronounced scar from his eye to his jaw, and he didn’t have a ton of tattoos like the other boys, but there was the word “mother” above a heart with a dagger through it just under the sleeve of his t-shirt on his bicep and a Lucifer’s Own insignia on his opposite forearm.  

He was slouched down a bit in his seat, knees spread wide, voice raised to be heard over the music.  “You must be War Machine’s old lady,” he gave you a lift of his chin.

“You are correct,” you said with your best customer service smile.  

“Damn,” his hand made a cage around the pack of smokes on the table so he could pull it toward him.  His eyes locked onto your face, unwavering.  “That son of a bitch always had good taste.”

“If you say so,” you checked over your shoulder, expecting to see Eddie charging over with that dangerous scowl on his face, but he wasn’t inside yet.  You cleared your throat.  “Can I get you anything else?”

He ordered another beer for himself and a tequila for Charlene, even though you knew she was much more of a wine drinker.  

“Just put it on Charlene’s tab,” he said with a wink, alluding to the fact that she was practically your boss now. “But this is for you,” and before you could reach for the 20 dollar bill he had in his hand, he was stuffing it into the waistband of your shorts, fingers grazing your bare skin, watching the discomfort wash over your face as he did so.

You turned on your heel without another word, bee-lining back to the bar, when Eddie stepped through the main door so abruptly, you almost crashed into him.    

Devlin and Van moved around the two of you while Eddie put one hand on your lower back and the other cupped the back of your neck.  “You okay, baby?” He mumbled, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

You nodded, but then Eddie looked over in the direction you had just come and saw Billy there, flicking the flame on his lighter and watching the interaction between the two of you.  You knew what Eddie was looking at by the way his body tensed.  “Did Billy say something to you?”

“I had to wait on his table while Erika was on her break,” you were pulling your boyfriend away as you were talking, practically dragging him back to his seat at the bar.  “Nothing happened, I’m fine.  I just missed you.”

On stage, Nancy lit into a mean guitar solo.

“You sure?” Eddie’s stare was hard.  

“Hey,” you grabbed Eddie’s face, making him look at you. “Baby, can’t you see? He wants to start trouble.  Just ignore him.  Please, for me.”

“Did he touch you?”  His jaw muscles bulged and a dark fell over his brown eyes, making them almost black.

“No baby,” you hummed the lie.  Eddie had quite a bit of common sense, more so than Steve when it came to affairs of the heart, but you knew that someone would get hurt if you told him about the way Billy had slid that money into your shorts.  You had no doubt that Eddie could handle himself, but you didn’t want there to be any more fighting; everyone had already been through enough.  Plus, Billy was not the first guy at the Hammer to overstep, and he wouldn’t be the last.  Sadly, that was the nature of the work, you’d come to realize. 

Eddie took a breath and lowered his forehead to yours, slotting his fingers around your ears so that his thumbs grazed your cheeks.  “I’ll be good, sweetheart,” he promised.

Everyone clapped at the end of the song and then you heard Eddie’s name being said over the speakers.

“We’re lucky enough to have the frontman for Corroded Coffin here with us tonight,” Nancy started.  “And he said he might get up here for a song or two.  What do you say, Munson?”

The crowd went wild at that suggestion, and some even chanted his last name, punching fists into the air.  Nancy motioned him on stage with a few scoops of her fingers.

“I guess I’m doing this,” he said, parting your lips with his tongue for a brief but firm kiss before he made his way to the stage.  The James Hetfield guy was already taking off his guitar to hand it to Eddie before he could protest, and they clapped hands together in greeting.  Your “old man” was adjusting the strap over his shoulder when he looked out over the sea of heads and caught your eye. 

“I love you,” Eddie mouthed, taking the pic off of the chain that he had dangling around his neck.  

—-------

Five minutes earlier, Steve had Charlene bent over the sink in the bathroom, jeans low on his hips, yanking her head back by the throat as he jackhammered himself inside of her.  

“Tighter,” she whined, and his fingers closed in on her windpipe.  He’d pushed her thong to the side and was spitting every so often so that he could watch it slide down her slit and mix with the frothing wet mess of her arousal where his cock sank into her.  He didn’t need the saliva to lube his brutal pace, but he liked the idea of spitting on her, it helped him work through his hatred.  

“God Steve, you’re so fucking good, fuckkk,” she dragged the last word out as hips clapped onto her with rapid, forceful grunts, making her whole body jerk each time he made contact.

He slowed the pace for a few thrusts so that he could spit again, and then he used his thumb to rub the saliva around the pink hole that tightened at his touch.  He’d never been with a woman who had every inch of hair removed like her, she looked like some kind of porn star. He wanted to be in her ass one last time, but it felt too tight and warm where he was.  He was close.

He let go of her throat and clutched her hips on either side in a way that would bruise, angling to finish himself off.  

“You’re such a fucking whore for my cock,” he bit out. He wished she didn’t feel so fucking good.  He wished that his disgust for her didn’t also turn him on in a way that made him uncomfortable.  

Charlene’s eyes rolled back in her head, orgasm mounting rapidly as he buried himself base deep to a point where the line between pleasure and pain was blurred.  She knew this was a farewell reminder, and it made her cry out his name.

“Fuck Steve, I’m cumming,” a few more pumps and she was exploding around his length, legs shaking at the way the wave crashed over her, making her see white.

“Get on your knees,” Steve told her, his hips stuttering.  When she was down in front of him, he jerked himself the rest of the way off onto her outstretched tongue, ropes of cum painting her chin and dripping down to her cleavage.  He made her lick the rest of him clean, and then she sucked her fingers.  

Someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Yeah, hold your fucking horses,” Steve shouted, pulling his jeans up.  He helped Charlene get her bodysuit back on and zipped up.  He almost kissed her, but then he remembered who she was.  

He checked himself in the mirror and slicked his hair back before letting her know she should wait a minute until after he was gone before she followed him out.  She was cleaning the mascara that had leaked down her cheeks, and was about to apply more lipstick, when she caught his eyes on her in the reflection.  

“What if I told you I had a gift for you?” Her expression was coy.

Steve sighed.  “I don’t want anything from you, Char. This was it, I’m done, I mean it.”

She rolled the red lipstick out of its gold tube.  “What if it was something that would change your life?”

He thought about that, wetting his lips.  “Listen, we’re never gonna fuck again.  I don’t care if you buy me a Ferrari.”

“Well, it’s better than a car,” she huffed a small laugh.  “Let’s just call it a…parting gift.  A way for me to say sorry for everything I put you and Eddie through.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and put his back against the door.  “Yeah, well, if this is about to be some grande gesture from you, I’d like to know what the catch is.”

She turned to him, fixing the ends of her hair around her face. “No catch, not this time,” she took a step forward, holding her black clutch in one hand.  “Listen, I know it sounds childish and stupid, but I think I…I think I fell in love with you.” She furrowed her brow as if the sentiment didn’t make sense to her, as if she’d never grasped the weight of the words before.

Steve couldn’t help himself, he rolled his eyes and barked a laugh, thoroughly amused. 

“I can’t change the past,” she tried to push her chest out, to get her statuesque posture back.  “But I can try to make it up to you.  To both of you.”

“Yeah?” Steve gave her a bored shrug.  “Personally, I think you’re way past the point of redemption.”

“Maybe,” she pressed her lips together and took hold of the door handle.  “I guess we’ll see.”

—------

All of your attention was eyes front on Eddie as he leaned over to discuss something with Nancy, lengthening the strap on his guitar as he spoke.  You barely noticed someone trying to make their way through the crowd until Steve bumped into your shoulder, making you sway on your feet.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he caught you and helped you find your balance.  “I didn’t see you there.”

Steve looked…disheveled, and his face was flushed, as if he’d just run around the block. There were lines in his hair from raking his fingers through it so many times.

“You good?” You called after him, but all he offered was a “thumbs up” over his shoulder.  

It was barely a minute before you caught sight of Charlene coming out of the hallway, following in his wake.  She had a pink flush to the pale skin of her throat, almost a perfect handprint impression, and your brain was busy putting the pieces together when Nancy got back on the mic. 

“This one is called Wild Child,” Nancy started on the guitar and people in the crowd got crazy again.  The Hell’s Belle next to you whistled so loud, it almost blew your eardrum out.  You weren’t too familiar with the band W.A.S.P. before Eddie, but you knew the song, and waited eagerly to hear his voice as he leaned in, moving his fingers along the strings.

“I ride, I ride the winds that bring the rain

A creature of love, and I can't be tamed

I want you, 'cause I'm gonna take your love from him

And I'll touch your face and hot burning skin

No, he'll never ever touch you like I do…”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he sang the first bit, hair hanging down his shoulders, muscles flexing under the ink that covered his forearms and hands.  When his eyes opened, he found you in the crowd, and your heart swelled at the way he cracked a smile around the words at the sight of you.  

“So look in my eyes and burn alive, the truth

I'm a wild child, come and love me

I want you…”

God, he was magic up there.  He looked like a natural, holding that guitar in his hands, the way his fingers flew deftly to each note.  

And he was all yours.  

The chorus came and you sang the words, smiling so hard already, your cheeks hurt.  You’d never known your eyes to “sparkle” like a cartoon before, but you felt like that’s what they were doing. 

“My heart's in exile, I need you to touch me

'Cause I want what you do

I want you”

Someone grabbed your elbow, and you spun around to see who it was.

Jackie had a full tray in her hand, trying to balance it amidst the moving bodies.  “Hey, are you on the floor right now? Don’t mean to be a bitch, but I need you.  A table full of jarheads just showed up.” 

“Oh shit, right,” you’d honestly forgot where you were for a moment, you’d been so caught up in that Munson Magic.  You took another glance at the stage, wanting to catch Eddie’s eye, but he was looking down at his hands, concentrating on where they worked the guitar.  

The table in your section that Jackie mentioned had seven guys in their mid-twenties sporting that type of “high and tight” haircut that you saw almost exclusively with members of military or law enforcement, and you took a deep breath, because you never knew what the vibe would be for those types of men who visited the Hammer.  Either they’d be extremely polite like they just came from church, or they’d be vile and disrespectful.  

“What’ll it be tonight, boys?” You asked, sidling up to their table.  “Buy one pitcher of draft and get the next half off.” 

They all turned to appraise you, not caring that the way their lewd stares locking on your body and tits made you uncomfortable.

“See, I told you,” the dark haired one said to the one in the red and white striped polo shirt.  “The bitches here are super hot.”

You gulped, doing your best to restrain from looking as disgusted as you felt while they talked about you like you weren’t even there.  

“How much for you to sit in my lap?” One of them asked.

“How much for you to suck me off?” One of them whispered, and the whole table guffawed into the type of laughter that was not warranted for something that was so not funny.

You checked over your shoulder for Steve, and he appeared to be escorting someone out who’d just been cut off.  There was a bench outside, and he always had them wait there while he called a member of their family or a taxi to come pick them up.  The guy was having a hard time getting his legs to work, and Steve had to practically carry him out. 

You glanced up at the stage when the other song ended, and you could tell Eddie was searching for you, and so you stuck your hand up in the air to catch his attention.  

“This one is for my girl,” he pushed hair out of his face and the sentiment made you freeze.  A goofy grin stretched across your face and you let out an actual giggle.  You were very familiar with the opening notes of Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative.  

“So, a pitcher of beer, then?”  You asked, distracted, but in a much better mood than you were a few seconds ago.  The guys at the table were too busy being crass to decide what they wanted to drink, so you chose for them.  They agreed on the pitcher, and ordered a round of shots. 

You kept your attention on Eddie as you made your way across the space, and your heart was in your throat at how proud you were to be his.  His voice was deep and powerful, and it seemed like no one could pull their eyes away. The air was a bit humid inside, and you could see a sheen of sweat on his skin already glistening, bangs sticking to his forehead.  He’d taken off his Coffin Kings cut and shirt, so he was up there in a ribbed, white tank of the Hanes variety, exposing the wash of dark tattoos over his shoulders and arm muscles that bulged from hours upon hours of manual labor.  

“I want to live with a cinnamon girl

I could be happy the rest of my life with her

A dreamer of pictures, I run in the night

You see us together, chase the moonlight…”

At the bar, you considered letting Van and Devlin know that there were some guys there who might start trouble now that Steve was distracted, but then you remembered that you were the bad bitch who stabbed Craig in the balls and brought him to his knees—-you could handle a few young douchebags.  

You gave Shana the drink order while Eddie’s deep voice bellowed, “my cinnamon girl, my cinnamon girl…” to the collective swooning of the crowd.  

You waited on two other couples, lingering in the middle of the room so that you could see Eddie more clearly, dragging your feet before you had to return to the guys with the matching haircuts.  

You took a cleansing breath and squared your shoulders before heading back.  You tried not to be bothered by the way the dudes checked you out as you put the drinks down.  When you were finished, the guy closest to you, with close-set eyes and a thick neck, ran his hand up the back of your leg.

“Hey,” your stare hardened on him and you stepped away, eyebrows pinching together.  “No touching.”

The guys all snickered at that, as if it was so funny that they all knew they weren’t supposed to touch the staff, but they still got away with it.  

“No he’s sorry, really,” said the tall, skinny one who hadn’t spoken up yet.  His face was unreadable, you couldn’t tell if he was being a shitheel or not.  The table fell silent for a beat.  “But we would really like to know how much it would cost for handjobs, all around.  Is there a group price for you girls?”

More idiotic cackling.

You turned to leave them, to go find Steve, to let him know you needed his assistance, but the one with the blonde hair and Limp Bizkit shirt caught you by the arm, digging his fingers in, and yanked you back so that his other hand could roam the curve of your ass.  “Just a little feel, baby, we’ll tip good,  I promise.”

You pushed him off and were just about to yell for Steve or Thumper when you saw the guy across the round table get his face smashed into the wood, so hard that blood splattered and you could hear the sick crack of breaking bone.

You were surprised to see Billy there, standing behind the one who was clutching his broken nose and wailing.  He was smiling, cigarette bobbing between his lips.  “I think you bozo’s should apologize to the lady.”

You hadn’t heard the music stop, didn’t realize that the commotion had drawn most of the attention to you.

In a flash, the guy in the Limp Bizkit shirt was ripped from his seat, and there was Eddie, picking him up by the throat to punch him across the face, sending him flying.

The impact made saliva and possibly a tooth go spitting from his mouth and you screamed at the shock of it.  

“Eddie look out!” You shouted.  The tall one was about to take a cheap shot at Eddie’s ribs while he sank another punch into the guy’s jaw, but you came down with your serving tray as hard as you could and nailed him.

“Holy shit,” Steve cursed when he stuck his head inside to see what the commotion was.  Thumper was nowhere to be found, and Steve figured he was taking a piss.  Starting brawls inside the Hammer was not protocol.  Bouncers were always encouraged to take everything outside, but now it was too late.  

“Get her out of here!” you heard Steve’s voice, he was talking to Devlin, and then you were being pulled back by cautious hands, away from the chaos. 

One of the jarheads was just about to break a beer glass over Eddie’s head, but Billy showed up out of nowhere and kicked him in the back, sending the asshole flying right into Steve’s awaiting fist.  The guy’s body crashed into a table, shattering glasses, and making the other patrons scatter.  

“You better leave this one for me, Harrington,” Billy smiled and wiggled his tongue.  “Wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours.”

Billy was helping them, and that was a twist you hadn’t expected.  Perhaps it wasn’t so much for them as for himself, since you could tell Billy had been looking for a fight all night.  

Steve got one of the other guys in a choke hold and began to drag him outside.  Billy made wide eyes at one of the leftover trouble makers and charged after him, making the guy shriek like he was about to pee his pants before running from the building.    

While the one Eddie had been punched was babbling at the foot of unconsciousness on the ground, he took hold of the one with the close-set eyes and the thick neck who had rubbed your leg first.

Eddie had been watching, and quick to cut off before the end of the song to jump down from the stage in a blinding rage.

Devlin held you loosely by the arms, but you shook him off, and stood next to Shana and Erika, continuing to keep your distance for the sake of Eddie and Steve’s peace of mind, and wincing each time one of the other dudes took a hard hit from one of the Coffin Kings.  

Eddie took the guy by the shirt and sent a punch into his stomach.  Mister Thick Neck doubled over but then Eddie took him by the throat and slammed him into the nearest wall.  Eddie had his fist winding back for a punch when Steve shouted his name to get his attention.  

The rest of the dickheads had been escorted outside by a few Hell’s Belle’s, while the rest of the crowd kept their distance.  You saw Charlene in the far corner, touching up her lipstick in a compact mirror, seemingly unphased by it all.  

“Not in here,” Steve pleaded with Eddie, breathlessly.  “Like you said.”

Eddie’s eyes were black and cold like that of a shark.  His mouth trembled with the urge to actually bite into the guy’s face, to mutilate him with his bare teeth and make him beg for mercy.

Eddie banged the guy's body into the brick wall again, locking him there with his forearm.  “Apologize to my girl,” he growled.

The buzz cut guy coughed and struggled, having a hard time breathing. “I don’t know who your girl is, man,” he was only able to squeak out a mild protest under the pressure of Eddie’s grip.  

“Your waitress,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth.

The guy against the wall tried to turn his head to look for you, but Eddie squeezed his face.  “You don’t get to look at her,” Eddie fumed.  “Just say you’re sorry.”

Multiple desperate “sorry’s” followed, and then Eddie told Steve to get the guy’s wallet to take all of the cash out.  A quick count said there was about a hundred bucks.

“That’ll be her tip,” Eddie announced, dragging him by the shirt collar to take him outside with the rest.  

They were all told to empty their wallets of their cash, and Steve made a scene of noting the addresses on their driver’s licenses.  

“I have a memory like a steel trap,” Steve lied, pointing to his temple, grabbing the guy in the red and white polo by the side of his neck, getting up in his face.  “If you so much as walk by this place ever again, or tell the cops about this, you’ll see me in your nightmares. Now, get the fuck out of here before I call your mommies.”

You sank in next to Eddie’s side just outside the main entrance, and he put his arm around you.  “Will things ever calm down around here?” You asked with a heavy sigh, watching the broken group scurry and limp away down the street.

Eddie gave a low laugh and hugged you a bit tighter.  “God, I hope so, baby.”

Divine Filth started another song, to try and get things back to normal, and most of the crowd returned to their drinks as if there had not been actual bloodshed just five minutes ago.

No one but Shana heard the phone next to the cash register ring over the sound of the music, but after a few seconds, she shrugged by you and Eddie to stick her head out and scan the sidewalk.

"Steve?" She craned her neck to look for him.

"Yeah, that's me," he came from around the back side of the door, flicking his cigarette, knuckles split and bloody again.

"Some guy named Dustin called," she said, merely passing on a message. "He said Suzie just went into labor."

-----

Love love you all for cheering this story on, hope you enjoyed this one. Your thoughts and reblogs are appreciated and cherished.

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[tachiharastanacc]

Tachi fic time!

Michizou didn’t like talking to his parents on the best of days. And today was a far cry from a good day.

It was his own fault really. He’d gotten ahead of himself, so confident in his abilities that he’d gotten sloppy. Although, realistically, even if the plan had gone off perfectly, this still probably would’ve been the result.

Still, sitting in front of the family he hadn’t seen in months with a man he’d met only a day ago wasn’t ideal. Especially when that man was currently staring at his parents like they’d told him to kill someone.

And technically they had.

“…only to show up out of nowhere with an escort from the military police! Honestly, I can’t imagine where we went wrong! If your brother were here-“

“My brother is dead.”

“And it should’ve been you instead!”

“That’s enough.”

The man didn’t yell. He hadn’t yelled once since Michizou had met him. Even after Michizou had pointed a sword at him. The man’s own sword, to be specific.

His mother had the decently to look a bit embarrassed, though she made sure to level her son with a look reminding him whose fault it was that she was scolded.

“This is the second time you’ve made such a comment in the four minutes since I’ve been here. Surely you, a mother who has already lost a son to war would know the pain that comes with losing a child.”

“With all due respect, sir,” his father practically spat, ���you know nothing of our family. Our lives. We’ve been grieving our son for a long time.”

“And forgetting about the son that still lives.”

His mother grabbed a napkin off the table.

Michizou couldn’t help but roll his eyes, knowing exactly where this was going. She kicked him under the table.

“You don’t understand how hard it’s been.”

She dabbed at her, very much still dry, eyes with the cloth napkin. “Every time I look at him, I see Shunzen’s face. Having him here, it’s just painful. And he’s so difficult! Always running off and getting into trouble! Dragging our family name through the mud! We’d all be better off without him!”

Michizou crossed his arms. He could see the man next to him tense up a bit at the statement.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do! I mean it with all of my heart!”

She turned to him.

“I wish you were dead.”

And there it was.

She could only bitch about him for so long before reminding him how little she wanted him.

The man in the uniform stood up, pulling out the sword from his belt and turning to the young teenager. He held the tip to his throat, emotionless.

“H-hey wait!”

“If I were to kill him right now, would your words still hold true I wonder?”

Neither of his parents flinched. In fact, they seemed completely neutral. Detached.

“I said I’d return the stuff! Y-you’re not actually gonna kill me, right?!”

None of the adults looked at him, busy with whatever pissing contest they were having with each other.

Maybe he could take this chance to escape? The man was strong, abnormally so, but he was distracted. And his weapon was really only metal. If Michizou could disarm him quick enough…

He sheathed the blade.

“…understood. We’re leaving.”

“Huh?”

The man fully turned to him. “We’re not wanted here. Therefore, there’s no point in us sticking around.”

He practically pulled the thirteen year-old out of his chair, dragging him to the door.

“Thank you for the tea.”

His voice remained even, his words polite, but there was a quiet rage in his eyes.

“Good riddance!”

Despite the years of hearing the same words over and over, it still stung just a bit. He’d come so close to being killed in front of them, and they couldn’t even pretend to care?!

The man stopped suddenly on the stoop.

“Tachihara.”

“Michizou.”

“Tachihara.”

Michizou glared at him. “That’s my brother’s last name.”

“It’s yours too.”

“It’s not. They don’t like me using it.”

The man spared a brief glance back at the door. “Do you really care what they like?”

Fair point.

“…fine. Tachihara.”

The man nodded. “I don’t like people like that.”

His grip tighter a bit, causing Tachihara to wince. Seriously, just who the hell was this man?!

With a muttered apology, he let go, patting the boy a bit too hard on the back instead.

“People like what?”

He’d never actually been arrested before. The police nearby knew him and usually let him off with a warning. He wasn’t a fan by any means, but he was at least a bit grateful, even if it meant stomaching the pitying looks when they learned he was caught stealing things like bread or bottles of water.

“People who sit and look down on others. They don’t know what it’s like, being on the frontlines, watching your men die, yet they claim to have it worse. Like the world revolves around them. That’s what they do. The ones on top.”

He began walking down the driveway. Confused, Tachihara followed him. He had a pretty strong feeling this was about more than just his parents.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m taking you to meet the others.”

As if that explained anything.

Still, the man was waiting now. Watching him with those intense eyes that bore into his parents just minutes before.

He took a few hesitant steps after him. He was expected to follow, right? Or was he getting ahead of himself?

“What others?”

The man smiled warmly, though the coldness in his eyes wasn’t entirely gone, along with a hint of something Tachihara couldn’t quite place.

“You have a strong ability. With my help, you could be incredibly powerful.”

“So…”

“I’m offering you a job.”

“…and if I refuse?”

“Well, I could always make good on my word and kill you for real.”

Tachihara stared at him, eyes wide. None of this made any sense. Really though, who was this guy?

The man’s gaze was cold as the steel Tachihara controlled. He took a few large strides over, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.

After a moment of intense eye contact (and the youngest Tachihara almost forgetting to breathe), the man grinned once again and let out a loud laugh. His unpredictability was consistent, the boy would give him that.

“Relax. I’ll give you time to think about it on the way over.”

Thus, thirteen year-old Tachihara Michizou found himself in a car with the famed war hero Fukuchi Ouchi, driving outside the city limits.

For what it was worth, Fukuchi was kind- in a strict, try-hard step dad kind of way. Though, somewhere in the back of his mind…

He never actually said he wouldn’t kill me.

(@starlightshadowsworld bc I had abt an hour on the train earlier)

[lueurjun]

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗁: 𝗃𝖺𝗒 𝗎𝗉𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎

⋮ — in which feelings are hurt, and jay needs a little bit of assistance figuring out what on earth he did to make you so upset with him

annoyingly jay doesn’t know what he’s done to make you so mad

which evidently only seems to piss you off even more. it feels like he doesn’t care enough to review his actions and that hurts you more

but he does care, more than you know—he’s just a bit… clueless sometimes

you have never been fond of the silent treatment, that sort of feels slightly toxic to you, so you stick to short answers and snippy comments which is probably the same level as silence but jay prefers it

he loves your voice and if you were to ever take it away from him… oh my, he would die

though he certainly would rather hear your angelic voice praising and giving him love like usual, the disappointment you display strikes him hard

but he just can’t for the life of him figure out what he’s done

and when he asks? even more hurt and annoyance from you

jay just wants everything to be resolved

but he has no idea where to start

and so he bites down his pride and enlists the help of the ever so charming jungwon and his puppy like companion jake

“what did you do this time?” jake asks the moment jay steps into the room with a guilty expression

though it morphs into an offended one rather quickly

“how do you know i’ve done something wrong? i might just want to hang out”

he’s met with two ‘be serious’ looks which makes him slump his shoulders

“i upset y/n… and i don’t know how’

much to jay’s surprise, jungwon nods

“yeah they called me not long ago”

jake avenges you by slapping jay silly with some rolled up newspaper

“silly boy”

“did they say what i did wrong?”

you did

you told jungwon everything

“mhm. but i’m not going to tell you what it is exactly. however, i will tell you that it’s something important and you’ve forgotten it”

jake hadn’t been told the full story, but he understood what jungwon was hinting at instantly — he gasped dramatically

and jay felt worse because he didn’t have a clue what jungwon was talking about

he’s a smart boy… just lacks practice when it comes to the relationship area

you’re his first real partner, and he doesn’t want to mess it up

seemingly taking pity on him, jungwon sighs

“the date, hyung! check the date!”

he does as he’s told, and in a matter of seconds it all clicks into place and jay is dashing out the door

leaving the teasing remarks of his friends behind him

in an attempt to salvage the remains of the day which happens to be your two year anniversary he rushes around gathering supplies

he collects all of your favourite things and returns home out of breath

you’re sitting on the couch when he arrives, hair damp from a shower and one of his shirts draped over your body with a pair of sweatpants

yet still, you look remarkable and he finds himself stumbling over his own feet at the sight of you

a reaction only you can provoke from the park jongseong

he’s sheepish at first, the bag of goodies behind his back and a dark crimson dusting his ears

and when you finally look up at him, his mouth runs dry

“evening”, you greet with a small nod

and it pains him — no hug, or kiss as usual? he’s really messed up

then, your eyes flit to the bag you can see behind his back, between his slightly patted legs

“i take it jungwon reminded you…”

“i’m so sorry. there’s no excuse. i forgot, and i own up to that but i love you so much and i know it’s probably much too late, but i’d still like to celebrate what’s left of the day if that’s okay…”

you’re not completely happy but the puppy dog eyes he’s giving you as well as the genuine apology he offered managed to butter you up enough to throw him a smile

and then, you’re patting the spot beside you

“you have a lot of grovelling to do, but this is a good start”

jay rushes to your side almost immediately, emptying the bag on the coffee table making you gasp

“goodness that’s a lot!”

“it’s not enough to make up for how much of a dumbass i am”

you merely smile, and reach over to kiss his cheek but jay seems to clock what you’re about to do and turns his head immediately

your lips meet the corner of his mouth and he smirks

“i believe you missed”

“unbelievable” you grumble, but nothing can stop you from pressing a chaste kiss to his lips

jay grins, leaning in to press an innumerable amount of kisses all over your face

and though you’re mad at him, you can’t help but feel a rush of warmth through your body

your boyfriend finishes his attack with a sweet peck to your nose

“happy two years, my love”

“happy two years, jay”

and to many more!

[whimsicalpolitical]

Hi! I hope ur well!

could you possibly write with the prompt of "well good evening, nice of you to join us." with Ross please? 💕

I’m totally well, thank you, love.

sleepy dialogue prompt 🧸

^ "well good evening, nice of you to join us." (ross)

The soft glow of the fire casts flickering shadows across the room as you drift off on the couch, wrapped in a thick, cozy blanket. The book you were reading slips from your hand, landing softly on the carpeted floor. The warmth and the quiet murmur of Ross's voice reading aloud lull you into a peaceful slumber.

Ross notices you’ve fallen asleep and gently lowers his voice, closing the book with a smile. He carefully adjusts the blanket around you, making sure you're comfortable. His fingers lightly brush a stray lock of hair from your face.

There’s a gentle knock at the door, barely audible over the crackling fire. Ross glances at you, making sure you’re still asleep, before quietly rising from his seat and heading to the door. He opens it to reveal Matty, standing there with a bottle of whiskey and a grin.

“Evening, mate,” Matty says in a low voice, stepping inside. “Did I interrupt?”

Ross shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “No, not at all. Just a quiet evening in. Come in, but keep it down. She’s asleep.”

Matty glances over at you, curled up on the couch. “Long day, huh?”

“Something like that,” Ross replies, leading Matty to the kitchen. “Fancy a drink?”

“Always,” Matty says, setting the bottle down and grabbing a couple of glasses. “I brought the good stuff.”

Ross chuckles softly, pouring them both a drink. “I should hope so. What brings you by tonight?”

Matty leans against the counter, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Just thought I’d check in, see how you’re doing. It’s been a while. Also wanted to chat with you about the new album.”

“Ah yes, honestly I’m absolutely enjoying the break, she’s keeping me busy though.” He laughs.

“I can see that,” Matty says, glancing over at you again. “She suits you.”

Ross smiles warmly, looking over at you with a tender expression. “She does. She’s perfect, really. She’s...well, she’s everything.”

“Let’s do a double date in the future, yeah?”

“Of course.”

They both take a sip of their drinks.

“Now, let’s talk album. Thought it’d be good to get your input on some things since the others are all on vacation.”

Ross’ eyes light up, “sure, mate let’s hear it.”

Matty pulls out his phone, scrolling through some notes. “We’ve been playing around with a few different sounds, trying to see what sticks. Here, listen to this.” He plays a short clip, the raw, unpolished sound filling the room.

Ross listens intently, nodding along. “I like it. It’s got a good vibe.“

As the evening progresses, the sound of their quiet conversation blends with the crackling of the fire, creating a soothing background noise. Gradually, the voices and warmth rouse you from your slumber. You blink slowly, the firelight dancing in your eyes as you take in the scene.

Ross notices you stirring and his face lights up with a gentle smile. “Good evening,” he says, his voice warm and playful. “Nice of you to join us.”

You stretch under the blanket, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “I must’ve dozed off. How long was I out?”

“Long enough for Matty to drop by,” Ross says, gesturing to his friend.

Matty raises his glass in a mock toast. “Evening. Sorry to intrude on your nap.”

You chuckle, feeling the comfort of their presence. “No intrusion. It’s nice to see you, Matty.”

“Feelings mutual, anyway,” he turns to Ross, “thanks for your input and I’ll send you some other stuff f’ that’s alright.”

“Absolutely, thanks for stopping by. We’ll see each other on Sunday in the studio.”

Matty walks over to the door and grabs his coat, ready to step into the rain outside.

“Have a nice evening you two.”

You say your goodbyes and smile at Ross when he comes over and takes your face into his hands.

“Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah, amazing actually.”

Ross lifts his eyebrows surprised, “amazing, yeah? I’m glad.”

You close the distance between you, your lips meeting in a gentle, lingering kiss. The fire crackles softly in the background, and the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment. Ross's hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.

When you finally pull away, both of you are smiling, breathless and content.

“Let’s watch something, come here,” you say, patting the spot next to you.

Ross chuckles and pulls you into his arms the second he sits down. “”What do you have in mind?”

You give him your all teeth grin wich means he won’t like your idea but you’ll try to get him to watch anything anyway.

“Oh no,” he groans and throws his head back dramatically which makes you hit his chest.

“Hey, don’t be mean,” you smile, “one episode ‘vampire diaries’ ross, please.”

He groans even more and hides his face in your neck, kissing your sweet spot and slowly biting where he kissed you. “Hm, turn it on then, doesn’t mean I have to pay attention, though.”

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 9

Part 8 / AO3 Link

Eddie felt like he blacked out. One moment he was on stage, playing his heart out, the next, Steve was leading him by the hand back to his car. Eddie had come to the venue with one of his bandmates, instruments in the back. When they got to Steve’s car, the keys were put in his hand.

“Your place”, Steve said, going around to the passenger side.

Eddie nodded hurriedly and in a rush of movements, they were off. He worried for a split second about the state of his apartment but those thoughts were pushed out when he felt Steve’s hand on his thigh. In the close space of the car, Eddie could smell him so deeply. He took a deep breath. 

“You looked great up there”, Steve said. “Have you been playing long?”

“Since I was a kid”, Eddie answered, wishing with all his might that they could get a red light just so he could look at Steve at least once. It had been only a few minutes but even that was too long. “My mom put a guitar in my hand and it was like…nothing was ever the same.”

“A natural.” Steve started to stroke his thigh. 

They came to an apartment complex and Eddie led the way up to the third floor. They got to his place and he paused as he unlocked the door. He turned to Steve with a sheepish expression.

“Gimme just one minute.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Eddie, I live with a child. A little untidiness isn’t going to turn me off.”

“I’d rather not welcome comparisons to a kid”, Eddie said.

“Fair enough. Go on, go and spruce it up before I see.”

Eddie thanked him and then went inside. Steve could hear movement from behind the door and after about a minute, Eddie opened it again. Steve took everything in and looked around. It had the makings of the usual bachelor pad, everything here was clearly Eddie’s. All meant for a single alpha. He smiled when he saw the teacher manuals, bookmarks sticking out from the lesson he’d left off at. 

Part of him wanted to explore some more, see all the little pieces of Eddie that could be found. But then there was a warmth against his back and a nose at his neck. Eddie’s arms snaked around his waist.

“I’d love to give you the grand tour. Starting with the bedroom~”

“I bet you say that to all the groupies.”

“You’re the only one hot enough to make it this far”, Eddie said, turning Steve in his arms. “And you didn’t even have to throw me your panties.”

“Hmm, sounds to me like you don’t even want them tossed to you”, Steve teased. “And after all the trouble I went through…”

“‘Trouble’?”, Eddie perked at that.

“Lead the way.”

Eddie released Steve, holding his hand only to take him to his bedroom. Steve closed the door behind them and then pushed Eddie onto the bed. Eddie leaned back on his elbows to watch Steve make a show of removing his jacket and shirt. Then he unbuttoned his pants and Eddie saw a sneak peek of what was to come. Steve licked his lips as he watched the alpha’s eyes darken and the scent of arousal began to fill the room.

Steve took off everything else, leaving only the black thong. The darkness of the fabric meant that Eddie couldn’t see the wet patch between his legs. But the way his nostrils flared, he could probably smell it. Steve walked closer and Eddie sat up, his hands moving reverently like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch.

Taking the initiative, Steve brought Eddie’s hands to his hips. Eddie licked his lips as his eyes traveled up and down the other man’s body, lingering on what must be a sopping wet cunt. He swallowed thickly. 

“When was the last time someone ate you out baby?”

“Well-”, Steve was saved from answering by Eddie diving face first, mouthing at his crotch like a man starved. His knees buckled and one hand went to Eddie’s shoulder while the other went to the back of his head, cradling it there. 

Eddie had been able to smell his wetness. Now he could actually feel and taste it. And it was so. Fucking. Good. He lifted one of Steve’s legs over his shoulders to spread him even more, still licking the fabric and sucking him through it. Eddie felt the leg by his ear tremble and he looked up. The purr that left his body, seeing Steve enraptured because of him, it must’ve traveled from his throat to his lips because Steve let out a purr of his own.

Steve felt Eddie pulled off and nearly let out a whine when he found himself on the bed. His legs must’ve been weaker than he’d thought if he was able to be moved like that. Eddie kissed him sweetly and then kissed down his neck, to his chest. 

“How the hell do you still have so many clothes?”, Steve breathed out.

“Natural talent”, Eddie winked. But he was beginning to overheat, so he paused to started undressing himself. He moved just a tad slower when he realized Steve’s hand was between his legs, stroking himself. 

“Careful Mr. Harrington. I might need to start charging you for the show.”

Steve snickered. “Please do not call me ‘Mr. Harrington’. Makes me think of my students.”

“Alright”, Eddie stripped off the last bit of clothing. “How’s about baby?” He kissed Steve’s ankle. “Or sweetheart?” He kissed his calf. “Angel face?” He gave one of Steve’s thighs a soft bite.

“Yes.”

Eddie peeled off the thong, duty completed and watched a string of slick try to stay attached. It was soaked from them both and Eddie was fighting the urge to stuff his face in it and he wondered how attached Steve was to this particular piece of underwear.

“I can tell you wanna lick it”, Steve said. “But wouldn’t you rather have the real thing?” He used his fingers to spread himself and a thick drop of pre cum dripped from Eddie’s cock. 

Permission given, Eddie dove in, his hips rutting against the bed as he ate Steve out. It was so soft and warm, he felt like he could get lost in it. All Steve saw was a mop of dark curls between his legs but he could feel everything Eddie was doing and it made him see stars. He felt something else prod him and when he looked down, Eddie was gazing up at him, asking with his eyes while his lips were wrapped around his clit.

Steve nodded and then he felt a finger push inside. Eddie treated him gentle, which Steve appreciated. He’d done his best to prep for the night, knowing what he wanted. But the fact that Eddie was taking his time, was enjoying the scenic route. Whenever his mouth left his pussy it was to lick his thighs, to kiss his hips, even to nuzzle his bush like every part of him was worth savoring.

During all this, he spread Steve open, bringing him to the brink before pulling back. Steve wanted to be frustrated but he liked going the long way. No rush, no fuss. He was more than happy to cum on Eddie’s cock. If it was like this now…he could only imagine during a heat or a rut.

Steve was lost in the thought as Eddie pulled his fingers out and reached for a condom. Steve sat up a little and held a hand out.

“Let me.”

When Eddie handed it to him, Steve took his time too. He got up on his knees and scented Eddie’s neck. That aroma was no longer just safety when he was on the brink of rejection sickness. It was a deep fondness, a strong attraction, and the utmost trust. Steve licked his throat and collarbone while looking down and placing the condom onto him. Even just the feather light touches were almost too much for him and he sucked in a breath.

“You don’t know what you do to me, sweetness”, he said as he laid kisses on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve used his fingertip to play with Eddie’s tip. “I think I have an idea.”

Eddie pushed him back down and lined himself up. He waited for Steve’s nod and then began to push inside. Steve waited until he was fully inside and then wrapped both his arms and legs around him.

“Feels so good, you’re so deep, fuck.”

Eddie growled in his ear as he started to move. Steve smelled so delicious. Eddie’s nose was pressed into his neck, fighting the urge to bite, to claim him, to make Steve his own. Steve wasn’t helping things by actually baring it to him, back arching as they pushed and pulled into each other. Everything about Steve was telling him to do it, to seal the deal.

Everything but Steve’s own words.

So Eddie stayed his teeth. But he was going to make sure that before the night was through that Steve would be carrying his scent home with him.

Steve was no nun, there had been partners after Billy, here and there, and of course, he had his own heats to deal with. But nothing could have prepared him for the way his orgasm crashed over him when Eddie thrusted just right. He scratched down his back (he’d apologize later) as his cunt squeezed down, trying to take his knot and milk it for everything.

He was still riding the wave when he felt that knot finally come inside and Eddie bit down on his shoulder as he came. For a few moments, all they did was breathe together. Eddie brushed the sweaty hairs away from Steve’s forehead and kissed it. Words lingered on his lips. Words that felt too heavy to say. So for now, he would let his body do the talking.

There was a split second where Eddie thought of everything the words might entail - changing his address, being a sudden parent to a six year old and all that it required, Steve learning about him and vice versa. It all sounded too good to be true. Definitely not the kind of pillow talk after having sex for the first time. So all he said was:

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to pop it in like that”, he said, moving them to their sides.

“It’s fine. Not like I’m going anywhere soon. Hope you weren’t expecting to kick me outta bed.”

“Honey, it’s all yours. I’ll give you the deed and everything.”

“Actually, did you know that until the 50’s there was something called ‘common scent law’ that-no wait, nevermind”, Steve covered his face with his hand. 

Eddie knew that look. The ‘I had to learn something to teach my students and now I have an abundance of knowledge on this obscure subject’. He pushed a lock of Steve’s hair behind his ear and then kissed the hand that was hiding his face.

“We’re gonna be here a while, sweetness. Go ahead and tell me about now defunct laws.”

The way Steve melted, Eddie wished he could bottle it up and keep it forever.

Part 10 coming soon

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