#fucking white douchebags
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wack-ashimself ¡ 1 year ago
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To every stupid mother fucker out there scared of crossdressers and trans people, let me tell you a quick fact that I had to do absolutely no research on, just like you did absolutely no research on yours either. But mine is far more logical, and that's gonna piss you off. Without any research whatsoever, I can promise you that there was probably never a single transgender or a crossdresser that went to Epstein's kidnap, torture, rape, and murder children island. You know who did? Rich and Powerful straight CIS pale motherfuckers... that look typically JUST-LIKE-YOU.
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mymitochondriaforpresident ¡ 8 months ago
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The racism my beloved Simon had to face….my baby. 🥺💔
Although painful to watch, it felt incredibly validating. It was so annoying watching some people say this show was “only about class” while dismissing the BS that Simon had to go through. The abuse was ten fold because he’s POC and S3 finally exposed that.
That being said, and on a more positive note, it was so incredibly sexy when Simon sang happy birthday to Wille in Spanish (he feels safe with him!) and when Wille admitted to fantasizing about stroking those beautiful curlssss (and then actually did it). 🥹❤️‍🩹
Wilmon forever. 🤎🤍
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selamat-linting ¡ 7 months ago
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i love it when im obsessed over a guy so much that my mutuals get to know him too. saw my mutual in the dash explaining to their mutual in law about who cm punk is and im just <3333 my powerr ✨✨✨ i bet they sighed and go "oh. this guy" yes he is!!!
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thislittlekumquat ¡ 6 months ago
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So, funny story. I went to high school with the guy whose twitter @ is TheNewKingHenry. His stuff in our traditional art classes wasn't so bad. It's WILDLY funny to me to discover that he lied about knowing photoshop. Because of fucking course he did.
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saetoru ¡ 1 year ago
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)
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synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break
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word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)
contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry
notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak
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everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.
they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.
you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.
you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.
when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.
satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.
it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.
he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.
you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.
but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.
“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”
you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.
he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.
he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.
“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”
“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”
“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”
“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.
he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.
“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”
“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”
“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”
“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”
“sure,” he chuckles.
and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.
“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.
he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.
great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.
you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.
“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”
“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”
“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.
with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”
you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.
you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.
you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.
—————
just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.
the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.
this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.
how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.
his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.
instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.
his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.
the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.
“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”
“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.
“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”
it’s way too early for this.
by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.
that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.
maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.
“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”
he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.
that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.
“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”
“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”
“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”
satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.
but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.
his bare chest, in fact.
you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.
“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.
this is…new. very, very new.
“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”
“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.
you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.
“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.
it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.
“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”
“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”
“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”
“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.
and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.
this is going to be a longer break than you thought.
—————
the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.
you grin, reaching over when—
“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”
“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.
“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.
“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.
he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.
it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.
“do you still throw away the ends of these?”
you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”
“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder. 
“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”
“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.
“yeah, as if.”
“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.
ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence. 
“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.
“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”
yeah. very snobby.
“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.
he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.
“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”
“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”
“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”
“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.
satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”
“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”
“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”
something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.
“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”
“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”
“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”
it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.
“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.
“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”
“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.
“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”
“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”
“i know you’re not talking—”
“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.
but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.
“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”
“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”
“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”
“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”
“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”
“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.
suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.
“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”
you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.
you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.
you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.
and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.
—————
satoru meets you when you’re six. 
he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard. 
somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.
a magnetizing one, in fact.
it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you. 
when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.
the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him? 
he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.
so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs. 
your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better. 
he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop. 
“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines. 
it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.
“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his. 
satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone. 
it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction. 
“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”
he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru. 
“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”
he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower. 
fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you. 
“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”
and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.
would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.
god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.
he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you. 
it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?
——
“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”
“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends. 
oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted. 
“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”
“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”
“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”
“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”
“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”
satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.
silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.
—————
it’s night four. 
satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new. 
he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome. 
scarily handsome, in fact. 
you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend. 
maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen. 
you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.
you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.
“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”
“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk. 
“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”
“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused. 
he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”
“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”
“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.
satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle. 
“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”
“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.
it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.
“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him. 
you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?
he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”
you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it. 
“how would you know—”
“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”
“he was hot—”
“yeah? and i’m not?”
he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it. 
“satoru, what are you—”
“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”
“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.
it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information. 
“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”
and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips. 
so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.
your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble. 
“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”
“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”
“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone. 
no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples. 
“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 
“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.
“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”
“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.
“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb. 
“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign. 
for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”
“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”
“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”
you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 
“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”
that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.
it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.
“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”
“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up. 
but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you. 
“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”
before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal. 
you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale. 
“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.
“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”
he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face. 
satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him. 
your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.
suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night. 
it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length. 
you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.
he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more. 
“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”
“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”
so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you. 
“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”
“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”
“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”
“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”
“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”
“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”
satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him. 
your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans. 
the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness. 
you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.
“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”
“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”
“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you. 
it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.
your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever. 
“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”
“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin. 
“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”
suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.
fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.
“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”
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do not comment about a part 2
but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything
30K notes ¡ View notes
kitten4sannie ¡ 1 month ago
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antithesis
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pairing: peter parker/venom! yunho x gf! reader
genre: spider man au, smut
summary: your boyfriend is going through a phase.
w.c: 3.3k (porn with a microscopic amount of plot)
warnings: dom! yunho, sub! reader, venom should have his own warning bc bro is NASTYY (so is yuyu 🤝🏻), partial mind manipulation? on yunho’s part? bc venom is in his head? idk, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, teasing, fingering, hand kink….,, SIZE KINK., manhandling, pussy eating, tongue kink, raw feral sex (doggy + missionary), bro has a monster cock, also monster fucking!! bc venom takes over <3, cum eating, breeding kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, mind break, record breaking creampie
a/n: listen …….i LOVE venom, the things i would let venom do to me would set humanity back at least fifty years. NOW VENOM YUNHO ON THE OTHER HAND,, oh boy. boyyyy oh boy. i don’t think i have to explain myself when it comes to that combination bc this fic speaks for itself lol. are you curious now? why don’t you give it a peek then, hm? (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ and then lemme know what you thought of it pretty please? <3
song rec: new woman - lisa feat. rosalía (get it bc he’s a new man - bc of venom - 😼)
fictober 2024
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“And just where have you been, Jeong Yunho?” you asked your boyfriend in a more teasing manner than anything, once he snuck in past the sliding glass door of the balcony, getting up from the couch you were waiting restlessly on. When he stood there silently just looking at you through the white eye shaped sections of his mask, you pouted, nervously wrapping a lock of hair around your finger. “Just be honest with me and I won’t be mad, okay?” 
Despite the lack of sleep, you were ready for him this time. He wasn’t about to casually sneak in or out of the house another night that week without you catching him. Usually, you wouldn’t have been concerned because you were used to him being gone when there was crime taking place or a super villain that needed to be brought to justice, but recently…your boyfriend was acting strange. He was starting to become moody and secretive, opting to brush you off when you asked him about it. Yunho had even taken up using substances in his free time, finding him drunk or high off his ass in the apartment when you got home from work. The final straw was when you came home one night to find him in the kitchen with freshly dyed hair and new piercings he had given himself, a few empty boxes of black hair dye and bloody safety pins laying haphazardly on the kitchen counter. 
Yunho took off his mask and rubbed at his eyes like he was tired, leaving a bit of smeared eyeliner underneath them, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his frayed jacket, the one that was slightly zipped just enough to cover his iconic red suit. 
“She knows about us,” said the annoying parasite that had just recently made a home inside him. “We should eat her.”
“No, I’m not doing that,” Yunho grumbled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
You walked up to him, gently putting a hand on his chest. “Yun, I just wanna know where you were at, that’s all. You know I respect your space,” you murmured, your pout growing slightly, your eyebrows upturned with concern. 
“She’s looking at us with those big round eyes again, Yunho,” Venom told his host, letting out a disgusting groan only he could hear. “It’s gonna make us hard. If we’re not going to eat her, let’s fuck her, at least.” 
“Mingi asked me to take care of some douchebags that had been causing trouble at that new club he works at. That’s all, baby,” Yunho replied softly, reaching down to press the back of his hand against your cheek, before cupping it. He noticed the teary look inside your doe eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” 
You nuzzled into his big warm hand, before reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck to hold your boyfriend close. “I’m fine…I’ve just been worried about you, Yun. You’ve been acting a bit…different.” 
“Let’s show her just how different we’ve become, Yunho,” Venom egged him on, knowing Yunho could feel just how much he wanted to break through the barrier of his host’s mind and take control. “She’ll love it.”
How could he possibly explain to you that he was always in a never ending battle with a frightening otherworldly parasite that had found its way inside of him? You would be so scared and disgusted, you’d probably never trust him again. He couldn’t risk losing you, not when you were his only anchor to the normal life he desperately craved, and the first person he’s ever felt this strongly about. 
“I’m just going through a phase, I think,” Yunho expressed wholeheartedly, resting his hands around your waist, his thumbs slightly pressing into your hip bones through your sleep shirt, feeling just how delicate you truly were. You were so small compared to him, practically swimming in one of his band t-shirts that you regularly wore to bed; you were so tiny and cute, and…”Malleable,” Venom finished. Yunho couldn’t tell if the parasite was influencing all of his thoughts or if he was just that perverted. 
“Do you wanna talk about it, Yun?” You pressed yourself closer to Yunho, feeling his large hands enclose around your small waist, making you feel a bit dizzy. When he shook his head, you tilted yours, wondering if what you felt pushing against your middle was exactly what you thought it was. “Or, do you want to take me to bed?” 
It had felt like forever since Yunho had touched you, kissed you even. You had almost forgotten what it was like to feel him inside you, filling you up over and over again until his love spilled out. Just the thought alone made your body begin to overheat. Was it wrong of you to take his simple answer at face value? Should you have pushed the issue, instead of letting him push you back into the wall of the hallway? You weren’t sure, but you were just grateful that your boyfriend still wanted you like this. 
“Did punching those guys at the club make you this horny?” you asked playfully, a sudden shiver of pleasure shooting up your spine when Yunho’s warm hands snaked up underneath your shirt and began groping at your tits.
“So horny,” Yunho joked back, a shaky exhale escaping his bobbing throat as he swallowed. 
 “Nnngh, I didn’t know fighting crime did it for you, Yun.” 
“Knowing I’m already getting your little pussy wet just from this is what’s doing it for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, having to practically lower himself to your height just to do so, able to clearly hear the breathless moan that left your lips. Yunho was already breathing hard, his mind swimming with constant racing thoughts that all pertained to his pretty little girlfriend and what he was going to do to you, squishing your soft flesh in between his slender fingers, using his thumbs to rub your hardening nipples in teasing circles. 
It had felt like eternity since Yunho had allowed himself to feel you underneath his touch, to even simply look at you with unbridled lust. He wanted to see all of you, witness the way you completely opened yourself up to him. It was driving him insane. Was it selfish of him to give into temptation when there was something else living inside him? Something that he knew was taking even more pleasure in this than he was? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he knew it was far too late to stop now. 
“Let us see her tits, Yunho, they feel so nice inside our hands, we need to see,” Venom demanded, desperately shaking the bars of his figurative cage. 
When Yunho tugged your shirt up and over your tits, your gasp became muffled, your eyes widening as he stuffed the hem of the shirt into your mouth. You were going to close your legs to keep your arousal from spilling down your thighs, but your eager boyfriend pushed his larger one in between them. 
“You’re so pretty, angel,” Yunho cooed softly, admiring the way you began to grind your cunt against his thigh, despite the sheepish expression you offered him, a bit of drool escaping the corner of his mouth from witnessing such a display of pure desperation. “Look at you go…rubbing yourself all over my thigh like a horny little slut.” 
“N-not a slut,” you whimpered softly, his insult causing a fresh wave of slick to leak out onto Yunho’s torn jeans. “Just need you, Yuyu.” 
“Her breeding hole needs to be trained to handle my size. Do it now,” Venom growled into Yunho’s mind, growing more and more demanding by the second, very aware that his host was starting to lose control of himself. 
“Yeah? How about this?” Yunho pulled your panties to the side so that he could watch as your greedy cunt swallowed up one of his long, bony fingers to the knuckle. “Is that enough, baby?” 
“I meant with your human sized cock, you insufferable prick,” Venom chided, simply not understanding the pleasurable benefits that prolonged foreplay could offer being the inhibited hothead that he was. 
Something about the way Yunho was taking his time with unraveling you, the way he was drinking in the sight of your bare body with pure lust inside his dilated eyes, all while he had one of his digits plunged inside you. It made you pulse and squeeze around it. “F-full.”  
“But I barely fit one finger inside you, sweetheart. What’ll happen if I put another?” Yunho suddenly tugged your borrowed t-shirt up and over your head, leaning in close to your face to catch the way your breath hitched as soon as he slipped another finger inside, curling them just enough to hit your sweet spot each time he finger-fucked you, earning a few whiny moans from his beloved girlfriend. “Oh, that’s right. You turn into my little sex toy, don’t you?” 
“Y-esss, Yuyu, just for you, fuck,” you cried out, hooking your arms around his neck to keep yourself from completely melting into the floor. 
“That’s a good girl,” he groaned into your ear, quickly stuffing his thick digits into you, unable to get Venom’s ungodly thoughts out of his head all the while, unable to keep himself from shoving a third finger into you, your slick walls pulsating around him. “You think you’re feeling full now…just wait till my cock’s inside you.”
Gasping, your nails dug into his back through his clothes. “Oh my god, Yunho, give it to me, please, please, please,” you whined breathlessly into his neck, trembling in his arms as overwhelming pleasure washed over you. “N-need your cock in me.” 
“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re already begging to be fucked like that. I almost forgot how much of a needy little slut you are when you need cock. You like the thought of me stretching out your little pussy that much, huh?” He smiled against your heated skin when you whimpered and nodded eagerly, not allowing you to witness the brief moment his eyes turned completely black. “I just might split you open.” 
You almost didn’t recognize your boyfriend when he tossed you onto your shared bed like you weighed close to nothing, and you certainly didn’t recognize him when he manipulated your limbs until you were laying with your head down against the mattress and your ass up in the air. Usually, he wanted to do missionary, so that he could kiss and look at you when you both came undone, but now, now he had you in a position that was apparently ‘perfect for breeding’, or at least, that’s what you thought you had heard him mumbling about from behind you. 
“Now’s the time, human. We must show her how great we are,” the alien reminded Yunho, delighted that his black parasitic poison was now making its way through his host’s veins, showing up from underneath his milky skin. It was changing him in ways that would most definitely benefit all three of you. 
Yunho squeezed his large hands into the sides of your ass and spread it open, hyper focused on your dripping cunt and how it struggled to accommodate his obscene size. “Poor baby’s so tiny, my little princess can barely take me inside her pretty cunt,” he sighed, pulling out just enough to send a few strands of spit onto his own cock, lubing up the base of it and pushing back in, a shiver of pleasure shooting up his spine as soon as he heard the broken cry that left your drooling mouth. “Looks like we’re going to have to break you in.” 
You felt like you were losing your mind. Your boyfriend had just barely bottomed out inside of you and you were already about to cream yourself. And, it might’ve been the cock drunk state you were in, but you swore to god that his dick got bigger. It felt like it was kissing your cervix already and he hadn’t even moved yet. Not to mention, it felt so hot inside you, and there was so much pre-cum coating your walls, you almost thought he had came prematurely, but he would’ve been asleep and snoring away already if he did. 
Yunho violently interrupted your train of thought by slamming his hips forward, letting out a deep, long groan as though he were experiencing euphoria. He grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, tucking them together so that he could hold them both with one large hand, and quickly got to work, yanking you back onto his cock, using you like his own personal sex doll. “That’s fucking it, isn’t it, angel? You like that? You fucking like that?” 
“Yeah, fuck me,” you moaned back, realizing this ‘phase’ of Yunho’s was one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to the both of you, previously unaware that something this rough, something this animalistic, could feel as good as it did. 
“She’s ours, she’s ours, Yunho, fuck, we’re going to cum inside her,” Venom blissfully announced into Yunho’s head, fully taking over his host in that very instant, gracing Yunho with the symbiote’s much more endowed features. 
It was then that you let out a sudden gasp, the air that quickly filled your lungs leaving as a wavering moan of pleasure instead. It was almost as if Yunho’s cock had grown twice in size. You didn’t even know how that was possible, but you were too lost in the moment to question it. “So big, it’s so fucking big, Yunho, nnnngh, it’s gonna break me,” you exhaled, quickly pulling at the sheets once he gifted you partial physical autonomy, your eyes beginning to disappear underneath your eyelashes. 
“That’s right, pretty girl, and you’re going to keep taking it all, even after I’m done impregnating you,” Yunho agreed huskily, bending over you until his overheated body pressed into your shoulders and back, his long fingers curling around the softness of your hips. Just as his never ending seed spilled into you and made its way into your womb, Yunho dragged his long tongue up in between your straining shoulder blades and along your neck, savoring your flavor. He truly wanted to eat you, unable to stop drooling, but the annoying mortal he shared this body with wouldn’t let him. Venom figured he would have to settle for the next best thing.  
You didn’t even have a chance to finish shaking, let alone take a breath, before you were being lifted up and lowered back down onto your boyfriend’s face, your cunt fitting snugly between the curves of Yunho’s lips and nose. Just as he lapped at your extremely sensitive clit and slit, you couldn’t help but jolt away, his forearms suddenly locking tightly around your middle. “O-oh…!” 
“Hold still. Need a taste of this pretty cunt,” Yunho growled under his breath, angling his head back and opening his mouth wide enough so that he could explore the entirety of your used cunt, licking and drinking up the mixed arousal that spilled out of you to his heart’s content.
“Y-yunhooo,” you whined pathetically, reaching forward to hold onto the headboard to keep yourself from passing out from the pleasure that was overloading your mind, looking down to watch how he eagerly nosed at your clit. “Fuck, i’ll cum again…” 
“Then, do it, princess.” Just as he swallowed down more of your wetness, he realized it wasn’t enough, unable to keep himself from sliding the entirety of his tongue inside you, feeling you clench around the base of it. 
“Oh my god, your tongue, it’s so–haaaah,” you reacted breathlessly, digging your nails into the wood of the headboard, the longer his serpent-like tongue slithered in and out of you so seamlessly, unable to fully understand how any of this was possible. When the thickest part of his appendage rubbed at your g-spot, you saw white around your vision, your ears ringing, unable to hear the filthy slurping sounds Yunho was making underneath you as he drank up your squirt. 
When you came to, you were back underneath Yunho, in the missionary position he loved so much, yet this time it was profoundly different. His eyes were as dark as his freshly dyed hair, one corner of his mouth split open, inviting a myriad of long, serrated fangs, all while black wispy tendrils clung onto one side of his face like a second skin. You realized too late why Yunho was acting so out of character, and that you were never actually alone with him the past few weeks. You had an uninvited guest, an alien symbiote known as Venom, to be exact — and here you were, face to face with him, his disgustingly oversized cock stretching you wide open.
“Oh god, you’re actually going to split me open, what the fuck,” you gasped sharply, clutching the sides of Yunho’s cheeks, your fingers tugging at the ends of his sweaty hair. 
“Silly human, as much as we’d enjoy seeing that, you won’t split apart. You have a prime body for breeding, didn’t you know?” he chuckled darkly in a two-toned voice, pressing his hand down into your abdomen to feel the sheer size of himself protruding through your lower belly each time his hips routinely smacked into yours. “We knew Spider-man’s pretty little girlfriend would make a perfect host for our offspring. Just look at you, you’re taking us so well.” 
You didn’t know what was going to break your mind first, the fact that you were essentially being used as a breeding tool for an alien that would take great pleasure in swallowing you whole, or the fact that your cunt was eagerly swallowing up something so absurdly large, its heavy girth and width stretching you so wide, it felt as though you would fall apart at any given time. Despite the insanity of it all, your body and mind welcomed it, creaming yourself on his alien cock. 
“Good girlll,” Yunho praised, letting his long slimy tongue slip out to lick up the side of your cheek until he tasted the salt from the tears that fell down your face. He fully sheathed himself inside you one last time, before his large hands cemented around your waist, holding you completely still as his hot load joined the other one he had previously fucked into you, his heavy breaths warming the skin of your neck. “That’s it, princess, take it all, just like that…” 
You could hardly breathe, let alone move, simply laying still in your boyfriend’s arms, taking everything he gave you, as wave after wave of cum coated the insides of your aching cunt and flooded womb, some of it spilling down the insides of your legs and dripping onto the stained sheets below. It felt so good to be filled up in such a way that you came again without direct stimulation, letting out a broken cry, before Yunho silenced you with a kiss. 
When you opened your teary eyes, your boyfriend’s previously monstrous traits were gone, instead replaced with his usual soft, flushed features that you adored so much. You watched him open and close his mouth, as if he didn’t know what to say. You pressed another kiss to his lips, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Should we go to the drugstore to get Plan B?”
Yunho gave you a goofy, though apologetic smile, leaning his face into your neck to give it a few kisses. He pulled himself back up to face you, his eyebrows upturned. “D-do you think it would work on an alien symbiote?” 
You patted his head, knowing what you signed up for when you decided to date the Spider-man, figuring one of his superhero friends would have a solution for the both of you. You gave him a soft smile, happy when he returned it. “If not, let’s get a refund.” 
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Š kitten4sannie, 2024.
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s0dium ¡ 7 months ago
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Douchebag
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A/n: This is honestly the BEST fic I've ever written! I took a lot from prompts I found on this site and the smut scene is inspired from a book called "The Kiss Quotient." (It was just so damn good). This fanfic is also inspired by my original fanfic, "Douchebag" Tengen x Reader. ALSO, I AM WORKING ON YUTA FICS, SO DON'T WORRY! Word count: 3.5k
Synopsis: Gojo Satrou was a man of many things. It would be hard to find anyone in the jujutsu world who hadn’t heard of his name before, whether that be through his many wins in battle or his reputation as an A-class player. Some describe him as eccentric, and others (mostly girls) describe him as irresistible. You? Well, you on the other hand would describe him as nothing else than an utter, complete,  douchebag. Warnings: Enemies to lovers,  teasing, fingering, intense kissing for a sec, squirting, use of pet names, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding kink, virgin!reader, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, choking ~
You scoffed, watching through the classroom window as a clearly frustrated old man stormed out of the building, no doubt a higher up. No doubt the work of Gojo Satoru. "God I hate him." You hissed, turning to face a dozing-off Shoko and your other friend Haibara. The classroom you sat in was almost empty, bathed in the soft light of midday filtering through large windows. Sparse shadows stretch across the well-worn wooden floor. Rows of desks, mostly unoccupied, face a dusty chalkboard at the front. "Who Satoru?" Shoko yawned, leaning into the palm of her hand to face you. Haibara lets out a loud chuckle. "Why? Because he's an ass to higher-ups?" He nods to the window and you click your tongue against the rough of your mouth. "No, it's because he is an ass in general. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude, and don't get me started on the way he treats girls." You practically shiver as you remember the time you saw some poor girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High profess her love to the white hair man, only to run away sobbing. "I swear to god it's like he expects us to kiss the floor that he walks on, he's.... infuriating" "Who's infuriating?" Oh god, you knew that stupidly deep voice anywhere. You whipped around to find yourself face to face with the very tall white-haired man you were talking about; a shit-eating grin spread across his infuriatingly handsome face.
“You couldn't be talking about me, could you?” Satoru's voice dripped faux shock and you rolled your eyes.
“Well you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You spat.
“That must be why you love using that pretty mouth of yours to talk about me so much.” Satoru lowered himself to close the provoking height difference between the two of you until your noses were inches away from touching. “Cause ya love having me around  doncha.”
In that moment you have to conjure up every ounce of self-restraint to not spit in his face there and then, and luckily your friends catch the drift. "Hey Satoru! What are you doing here?" Perked up Haibara who reached out his hand to dap Gojo up. "Well, Suguru and I are heading for a night out today, small club, and I thought, out of the kindness of my heart," You scoff and Gojo merely grins and continues, "I'd invite you all. Drink on me of course." As Satrou's invitation lingered in the air, you noticed Shoko's ears perk up. Her curiosity was piqued, a subtle lift of her eyebrows betraying her interest. You bit your tongue, the taste of reluctance sharp against your teeth. The idea of going anywhere with Satrou was far from appealing, but knowing your friends might join made it harder to outright refuse.
You crossed your arms defensively, leaning back slightly as you fixed Satrou with a skeptical look. "And why would you want me there?"
Satrou's lips curled into a half-smirk, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint."You're annoying, I'll give you that," He took a casual step closer, and leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "but I never said you weren't fun."
His words, intended to irk you, did their job well. You glared at him sharply, the frustration evident in your furrowed brows and the hard set of your jaw.
Satrou chuckled.
“Great, I’ll take that as a yes then, I'll text you guys the details.” He turns around to walk out of the classroom. “See you guys there!”
There was a silence as you all watched Satrou walk away before Haibara turns to look at you. “So are you going to go y/n? Come on it will be so much fun!”
“Yeah no way in hell.”
~ You were a liar. You were a liar because here you were, leaning over the counter of a bar in a club that was far from "small." The nightclub was a pulsing, chaotic hive of activity. Neon lights flashed in syncopation with the deafening throb of electronic dance music that shook the very air. The club was jam-packed with bodies moving rhythmically, the heat from the mass of humanity palpable as the scent of sweat and sweet perfumes mingled. The bar surface was sticky under your arms, and the occasional spill from a too-hastily poured drink added to the chaos of sounds and smells around you. You lazily stirred the thin red straw into your drink, trying to politely ignore the creep who wouldn't stop talking to you.
Somehow, in the maze of gyrating bodies and blinding strobe lights, you had lost both Shoko and Haibara, leaving you stranded at the mercy of this clueless conversationalist. Despite the roar of bass and the chatter of dozens of conversations, his words seemed to bore into your ears, relentless and unyielding. He leaned in closer than necessary, trying to make himself heard over the club's cacophony, not realizing or perhaps not caring, that you were more interested in plotting an escape than in anything he had to say. "And might I say you look gorgeous tonight." It took everything you had not to scoff at this creep's words, but before you should shut the man down, you felt an arm wrap around you. "Everything alright love?" Oh god. You knew that voice anywhere. As you turned, you were met by Satrou's piercing blue eyes, their color vivid even behind stylish rectangular sunglasses. The multicolor flashing lights overhead caught in the threads of Satrou’s light blue button-up, making it shimmer subtly, and the fabric clung just right to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the well-defined physique beneath. You hated the fact that your brain immediately noted how damn good he looked. His arm was wrapped around your waist drawing you close and you had to bite your tongue from frowning at the pet name he had given you As he leaned in, his voice was low, a soft murmur over the noise of the club, "This guy bothering you baby?" His tone was teasing, and you could detect the challenge in it, as if daring you to admit that his closeness and pet names affected you just as much as he knew it did. "Of course I'm fine baby!" You smile brightly and for a second you think Satrou looked a bit taken aback. If playing along got you out of this situation so be it. "This guy, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You glance back at the creep who had turned bright red. "I'm sorry, excuse me." You watched as the man disappeared into the throng of the bustling crowd, your attention fixed until he was well out of sight. Only then did you turn back to Satrou, the false warmth on your face instantly transforming into a cold, hard glare.
"Thanks for that, but you can get your hand off me now," you said, your voice icy as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. Despite your efforts, Satrou’s grip on your waist remained firm, unyielding.
"And why should I? I think we made a fantastic couple," Satrou cooed, a teasing lilt in his voice. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying the moment far more than you.
You rolled your eyes, exasperation seeping through. "You really think I would fall for something like that?"
"Why? Did you?" he probed further, his smile widening, eyes searching yours for any sign of genuine affect. Anger started to boil up inside you as your attempts to escape his grasp remained futile.
"I don't think you understand the dynamic here very well, Satoru," you began, your voice low and deliberate, each word punctuated for emphasis. You stepped closer, invading his space as much as he had invaded yours, your eyes never leaving his. "Let me make this crystal clear, I'm not someone you can just fucking conquer, and I'm certainly not one of those girls who's gonna kiss the ground you walk on with your whole 'I'm the strongest' act," you seethed.
Your face was mere inches from his now, your breath mingling, the tension palpable. "Because I know what you really are, Satrou," you hissed, the anger in your voice barely contained. "You're a fucking douche bag." "Oh? Is that so."
Satrou's expression shifted subtly, the amusement fading into something more measured, more cautious. He studied you for a moment and you took the chance to wiggle out of his grasp and make your way through the crowd on the dance floor toward the door. The beat of the music pounds in your ears and throughout your body making your synapses jump like beans in a tin can. You can barely see the floor, only flashes of bodies you frantically tried to push past. Before you can make it to the back door, a hand grips your wrist tightly enough to halt your forward rush. Above the din of the pulsating music and amidst the strobe-lit shadows of dancing figures, Satoru's face comes into view. You feel your breath catch in your throat. God his is beautiful. Strobe lights catch and accent every one of his sharp features alighting them in a multicolor color hue. He pulls your wrist to him so you're close, too close. You can smell the old spice shampoo from his hair mixed in with some sort of sweet cologne. It's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again. "Jesus fucking Christ y/n" he breathed his eyes searching yours. "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?" You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”
“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so
“I-fuck you” the words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.
“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and his eyes are soft. Fuck it. You can no longer hear the lyrics to whatever song was playing, only a soft dull hum of the beat in your ears. Immediately your lips are on his. The kiss is frantic, hot, messy. The club's pulse thrummed through you like a second heartbeat, the noise and chaos all but forgotten in the singular focus of his presence. You could feel one of his large hands on the small of your back, drawing you in until there was no space left between the both of you. Your mouths clashed against each other as if you were both seeking something vital, something long-denied. Satoru's lips were insistent against yours, moving with a fervor that matched the pounding bass surrounding you. You whined as his tongue slipped into your mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the firm press of his chest against yours. The scent of his cologne mixed with the smoky air around us, intoxicating and heady.
Your mouths separated with a soft pop, and Satoru is grinning while you're left dazed, breath heavy and chests rising and falling after it. "How bout you say we get out of here Princess."Gojo's voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear as you broke from the intense kiss.
Before you could even respond, a dizzying rush enveloped you. The loud club vanished in an instant, replaced by the quiet, dimly lit ambiance of his bedroom. You were suddenly on his bed, the soft duvet beneath you a stark contrast to the hard dance floor we'd just left. Right, he can teleport. You forgot about that. Wait was he... where are you going to... Before you can get a word in, he’s once again engulfing your lips with his and pulling you into a feverish kiss in which the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other. The moment one pulls away to breathe, the other is immediately searching for their lips again; intertwining tongues and teeth clashing together recklessly.
Your hot, everything is hot, your body is burning up by the second and there’s a sickly sweet feeling in your stomach that keeps on expanding as time passes. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hand slip under your skirt and lightly trace the outline of your slit with his index finger. You're painfully wet; your arousal has made a large spot on your underwear translucent. “Just touch me,’ you whined, arching impatiently against his hand. He couldn’t make either of you wait any longer. Slowly, he brought his middle finger down and slid it gently over her folds. You threw your head back. "Ahhhh, more please." He did it again, this time his fingertip slipping between and gathering your wetness. He parted you with two fingers. You let out a gasp when he hit your clit and started to rub it in small circles. You tried to say something, anything to explain how hot you were feeling right now, but your words were lost against his soft lips. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him so close against you, skin to skin. Time and space had no meaning anymore. There was only you and Satrou.
“You feeling good baby? Satrou speaks slowly, breath on your neck and voice in your ear making you shiver. You bite your lip and nod like any words that came from you would ruin it. You almost wince when you feel two fingers slip into your tight hole. "Jesus, fuck. You gotta relax princesses." He chuckled, knowing far to well that the tightness was going to feel delicious around him. Two fingers worked into you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue nipped and sucked the tender skin of your neck. You couldn’t prevent her hips from rising to meet his thrusts. Oh God, you were riding his hand. That had to be bad. You told herself to stop. You couldn’t. Somehow, you found your hands tangled in his short white hair. Your body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now you could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into you. "Hnghhh.... so good." You squeezed your eyes type, becoming focused on the tightening feeling of your core and the blossoming warm pleasure. Your legs started to tremble under the unbearable pleasure and your back arched against the bed as if your body was trying to escape the euphoric feeling that coursed through your skin. "That’s it, fuck, beautiful girl... such a natural submissive...." You want to tell him he's wrong, all this pleasure wasn't because of his egotistic ass, but it'd be a lie. And as if on command, all feelings come to a heightened crescendo; explosions of euphoria clouding your brain causing your toes to curl from pleasure and your body to shake like a leaf.
It takes a couple seconds after you calmed down to realize you squirted all over Satoru's hand and all blood rushes to your face turning you a bright red.
“Oh my god in so sorry I didn’t-”
Your voice dies out as you watch Satrou pull off his shirt, revealing his extremely built body and toned muscles, to wipe the liquid off his hand. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so. Your stomach inwardly twisted,  filled with the sickly excitement and your breathing started to quicken. "Shhhhh baby," Satoru cups your cheek and kisses your forehead. It was a sweet gesture despite everything happening right now, a gesture that made your heart swell and your mind yearn for Satoru. The stretch of his dick spreading your walls is insane. No amount of preparation could've prepared you for the length of Satoru's dick. You feel it heavy inside you and Satrou pushes into you until he can't push anymore, until his hips are flush against you and the tip of his length is smushed against your cervix. The pleasure of that alone felt numb, unbearable, you needed friction, you needed him to move. You practically faint when he first thrusts into you in earnest. It's euphoric; the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up. His cock pulsed inside of your silky walls, stretching you to the fullest capacity as he bottomed out again and again. "Oh fuck." Satrou groaned. He was no longer grinning, Satoru's playful resolves vanished and his smile quickly dropped. He knew you'd feel good, but he didn't expect how good you'd feel. The feeling of his hand he had fucked himself to the thought of you for so many nights was nothing compared to the real thing. It was too much, the feeling of your wet soft walls gripping him so tightly. How was he able to live without your pussy in the first place? The pleasure built rapidly, too potent, too insistent. He kneeled over you, a groan escaping his lips—a raw, primal sound that vibrated through the charged air between you. Satorus thrust your quick and hard, a clear display of strength and endurance he had gained from years of jujutsu training. "Been thinking about this, so long, bet you have to have ya~"
As Satrou's long, deliberate fingers encircle your neck, a thrilling chill races down your spine. He applies pressure gently at first, then with a firmer, insistent grip that gradually restricts your airflow, sending a wave of exhilaration through your senses. The world around you narrows, focusing intently on the point where his skin contacts yours, heightening every other sensation that courses through you. His other hand slips under your bra bra to grab and massage your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipples.
"Satoru..! Ahhhh..! I..I, fuckkkkk can't handle this.." You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with his hand squeezing your throat it was just all too much.
Satoru. Satoru. Satoru
"Slow down.. please im gonna ahhhh~" Drool slipped passed your lips and you writhed and squirmed at the feeling of hot euphoria passed over your body in flesh arrow. "Gonna cum? Fuck baby, let's... let's come together m'kay?" Satrou almost stuttered. His body had kicked into autopilot, and a deep primal need for you settled in as he thrust in and out, creating a methodical rhythm that echoed in your ears. Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel yourself start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but it's all too much, and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dances in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.
"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. Satoru doesn't pull out as you both come down from your high, instead watching you intently as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Wanna do this again?" He chuckles.
"Fuck, yes, please."
3K notes ¡ View notes
mzzledmutt ¡ 4 months ago
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—PREPARE FOR TROUBLE
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starring.ᐟ keigo takami x rumi usagiyama x tōya todoroki x reader
synopsis.ᐟ “prepare for trouble and make it double!” An innocent night of fun with your ill intentioned bestfriend ends in bumping and grinding with a heroic duo.
warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, alcohol use, drug use (weed + coke), clubbing, one night stand, foursome (ffmm), public sex, unprotected vaginal + anal sex, cunnilingus, blowjobs, overstimulation, fingering, creampies, pegging, spit, spanking, slapping, hair pulling, biting, squirting, exhibitionism + voyeurism, feather play, temperature play, pet names (princess, doll, dove, honey, mommy + daddy) used
word count.ᐟ 10.6k words
m.mutt 𐂯 this is a refresh/rewrite of an older fic i have since deleted on tumblr! this fic is/has been cross posted on my ao3! i hope you enjoy!!
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SWEATY bodies bump and grind against each other as loud music plays in the humid club. Girls sit in seats at the bar, flirting with sleazy men hoping to get a free drink and cash. Douchebags hit on everything they see with thighs and breasts as if they were chicken.
It made you feel gross.
Clubbing was definitely not your favorite activity in the world. The only reason you still sat in this place was due to a text you had gotten from your friend, an offer to save you from boredom under his own rules, of course.
On a night like this, you’d rather be sprawled across your bed. Masturbating to whatever degenerate porn you could find that caught your interest for longer than a minute.
You sat at your little table, tucked away at the back of the club, sipping on the half-empty drink in front of you. Your friend had run off to grab more drinks and hadn’t returned in a while. You were so tempted to flirt your way into another drink, stronger than whatever fruity concoction you had ordered the first time.
Come on now, it’s not like you didn't wear this dress for nothing. The way it hugged your skin and complimented your curves was sure to lure in anyone willing to spend their money on you.
It seems you’d have to resort to that soon considering a dark-haired demon, left on your own.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear though. After what felt like an hour, the familiar mop of black hair crosses your peripheral and slides into the seat across from you. “You left me, asshole.” You complain and he snickers, setting a drink in front of you.
“Sorry, princess.” A soft smile tugs on his scared lips, accented by his snake bites. “Got a little distracted.” He digs in his pocket, tongue poking from between his lips in concentration. You grab your plastic cup and sip the liquid from the little black straw.
“Oh, fuck.” You hiss at the taste, this was much stronger than your previous drink. “This is what I needed. Thank you, Dabi.” You smile sweetly at the man across from you as he sends a wink your way. “Anytime…there it is.” His hand is quickly pulled from his pocket. A rectangular tin, a lighter, and a small clear baggie are tossed onto the table.
“You wanna get fucked up, princess?” A sly smirk splays across his face in the dim club lighting.
Hesitantly, you crack open the tin seeing about seven blunts laid side by side, in the clear baggie was loose white powder. “It’s’ll I could grab, my plug is going out of town.” You continue to stare down at the items on the table as you sip. “You obviously don’t have to, but I’m definitely gonna do a line or two.” You weighed out your options, looking back up at him.
He looked pretty in the low lighting, the soft blue tones of the flashing lights illuminating the lower half of his face. Perfectly concealing him in mysterious shadows. Dabi was always pretty though, scarred flesh molded into an alluring figure.
You stop your meticulous studying of his face before focusing back on the substances before you.
You grab a blunt from the tin and pull it to your lips. “You mind?” Cerulean eyes light up and his smirk grows. “Anytime, doll.” The flame sparks on his index finger and he holds it out to you. You lean forward, lighting the end of the blunt and taking a few puffs while it is held tight between your lips. The smoke flows freely as you sit back and blow it out.
“‘S a new strain, tell me how ya’ like it.” Dabi lights his own, holding it between his teeth for just a moment. He takes his drags like a pro, watching as you relax into your seat after each puff. “I thought you were stayin’ relatively clean?” You bump the baggie on the table.
Dabi huffs a laugh, averting all eye contact he once held. “There’s no point anymore.” He says it as if it were the easiest thing in the world. You would’ve pressed but, it’s hard enough being the friend of a villain.
Making him regress into his shell wouldn't help.
“See anyone you like?” He’s changing the conversation. “Nope. Everyone’s boring.” You take another drag, blowing the smoke down onto the table. “I see what you mean, princess.” Dabi leans back in his chair, eyes scanning over the room. “Not even a bimbo to fuck for the night, this blows.” - “You wanted to come here!” You mention as he sounded so bored.
“For once this place is empty, full o’ normies.” He rolls his eyes. “Why do you typically come here?” You finally ask, leaning forward to hear him better.
“I used to meet my dealer here before he switched locations. Maybe find a piece o’ ass or two but tonight it’s dry.” Dabi downs the rest of his drink, setting the cup on the table.
“Didn’t a new club open like a few blocks away?” You lean down to sip your drink again. “Think so, but that’s one of those high-end places. Only pros and horny fans are gonna populate that joint.” He remarks, grabbing his cup and scowling at its emptiness.
“Fuck, I’m gettin’ a new drink.” He huffs, pushing off the table. “You want another, doll?” He quirks a brow as he towers over you. “Nah, I’m alright thank you.” Dabi shrugs and walks off.
You sat at the table, taking drags from your blunt and sipping your drink. At least the music in this place wasn’t bad. The DJ playing an upbeat RnB song. You sit by yourself for some time, gently swaying in your chair. The liquor and weed were hitting now.
Eyes slightly blurry as you dazed off into the distance, music flowing through your ears. You were on cloud nine, with no clue of how much time was passing. You snapped from your daze when your phone buzzed violently on the table.
Unlocking it, you open your messages and see Dabi texted you.
hey
heyyyy
read
doll
doing a line off this blonde assss
read
shits magical
read
you left for a drink??
sent
took a detour
read
You hadn’t even noticed he took the tin and the baggie. At least you still had your blun—your eyes trail over and notice it had burnt out a while ago.
“Damn it!”
A soft sigh leaves your lips as you rest your chin on your hand. He was going to be awhile. What was the point of ever dragging you to this club if he was going to go fuck some bitch and leave you lonely? You had no interest in flirting with any of the randoms who danced or sat by themselves.
You knew you had a few admirers here, they gawked and mumbled as you walked past but, with Dabi’s intimidating demeanor and your lack of interest, you knew they’d never show up.
You watch as a couple across from you make out. Hands in their hair, tongues down their throats, and their hips rocking against each other. You made a face of disgust, a festering jealousy broiling within you.
You debated leaving the club, catching a ride, and going home. It wasn’t often you got to hang out with Dabi but, if he were actually here and not spending his time elsewhere you wouldn’t be in this predicament.
There was no way home that wasn’t sketchy or incredibly inconvenient. So, you should grin and bear it. Fuck Dabi, his short attention span, and his high sex drive.
“What’s a sweet thing like you doing here all alone?” A hand grabs the back of your chair, grazing your skin. You flinch, turning quickly to see an older man with golden and silver teeth. He was nursing a cup in his unoccupied hand. “‘M not alone.” You pick your drink back up, needing to keep it close to your body.
“Oh, I know. I saw that jackass walk off with some pretty boy not too long ago.” The man circles your table, sitting in Dabi’s previous seat.
“So, he ain’t your boyfriend. He’s too busy chasing after the same tail.” The man laughs, loud and hearty. It made you uncomfortable so, you laughed awkwardly. Hoping Dabi would save you. “You smell good, baby. Like earthy and shit.” - “Weed.” You curtly mumble, pulling your cup back to your lips. “You’re smelling weed.” You take a long drink, hoping he would just get the hint and walk off.
“How about you dance for me, hmm?” You furrow your brows, looking at him as if he had three heads. “I’ve been here all night and haven’t seen ya’ dance. C’mon, sweetness.” He leaned forward, resting more on the table. You go to send him off before he pulls out a wad of cash.
Your reaction was very visible. Eyebrows pulled high, jaw slightly falling slack, and eyes wide. The man laughs at your reaction. “I can make it worth your while.” He offers, with a grungy smirk.
“Whatever you want.” You take the offer and stand.
Before you could move on to dancing, you finished off your drink knowing you’d need to be more intoxicated to do this. Your body sways with the music and your hands trace your figure. Mind hazy from the drugs and alcohol, eyes watching the other figures move in the dim lighting, only truly appearing when neon lights flickered over them.
The DJ changed the song to a more sensual new age song, appealing to the young adults and older clubgoers trying to stay relevant. Your hands run up your thighs, lifting the skirt to your black velvet dress, showing just a few centimeters below your panties. The man watches from the table, bottom lip pulled between his teeth.
You flash him a smile and scoop your breast from your dress, holding the soft mounds in your hands. You pull a nipple into your mouth, sucking on the bud before adjusting your appearance so no one else would see. If you were gonna put on a show for money, you were gonna do it right.
Your tipsy, fluid dancing was disrupted when a body pressed against yours. A smirk curls up on your lips as you begin to grind your ass into the figure behind you. With a quick swivel of your hips, you determine your partner is either a woman or a grower.
The hairs on your neck stand to a point as hot breath brushes against your smooth skin, making slight arousal begin to form in the deepest pits of your stomach.
The mysterious figure grabs your waist, pulling you taut against them. As your back collides with their chest you realize your intruder is a woman. “Hi, princess.” The woman’s husky voice sends tingles through your body and straight to your hot cunt. “Hey.” You replied, continuing to grind into the woman’s lower half.
“You look absolutely delectable, honey.” Her tongue seemed to whip at the top of your ear, leaving saliva to cool and send goosebumps down your arms. “You haven’t even seen my face,” You quip, reaching you and behind you to hold her neck.
“What if I’m a horrid creature.” A soft fan of breath hits your neck again as she laughs. “I’ve been watching you from afar for a while, princess.”
You noticed she was hiding you as you danced against her, your bodies concealed from the man watching you. Her hands softly rub at your hips, trailing to your ass whenever you’d lean over to throw it back. Pussy flooding with slick as you feel her hardly noticeable thrusts against you as you grind your ass against her.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” She asked words like the melody of a jealous love song. “He’s at home,”
You whispered, making the woman pull back a little. “He’s pink, silicone, and needs to be plugged in after I cum.” You laughed at her reaction. “Fuck,” She laughs. “You scared me, sweetness. Thought I was gonna have to beat a prick up tonight.” Your heart fluttered for a moment.
“You beat a man up for me? Already?” You were flattered, truly flattered a stranger would be so forward. “Honey, I know I’d do anything for you.”
Her words were thick and sweet, almost silencing your rampant mind from the question on the top of your tongue. Who is the stranger who decided to dance with you?
Reluctantly, you pull yourself away from the woman leaving your body tingling and begging for her warmth. You turn to face to view your mysterious female partner and your heart pounds faster.
Your eyes widen at the sigh of the tall woman. Hair as white as snow draped down her back matching the fluffy ears atop her head, a contrast to her deep, brown skin. The lilac two-piece she worse accentuated her vermillion eyes.
“Hi, honey bunch.” She bats her gorgeous lashes at you, clearly taking note of how you guffawed at her.
She looked so strong. Her torso was covered by a low-cut, spaghetti-strap top. Her thighs, lord her thighs, muscles bulged from the confines of her maxi skirt, the same color as her shirt. Her breasts nearly spilled from the top, muscles flexing from their cotton prison.
She was going to ruin you. “You okay? Am I losing you, honey?” Her hand comes up to cup your jaw, gently stroking one spot by your lips.
Her red-painted lips spoke words of honey and like a bee, you latched onto every word.
“‘M fine, you’re really pretty.” You compliment, your fingers coming up to play with the ends of her blazer. “Why thank you, love.” Her gaze was so intimidating, deep vermilion eyes boring into yours with lust. Your lust-filled grinding had stopped due to your admiration of the woman before, making you feel out of place from the other club-goers around you.
“I want you.” You murmur before pulling back from her. A tan, manicured hand reaches out quickly to grab your own, keeping you at arm’s length.
The woman watches in confusion as you shake your hand free and throw her a smirk.
You move into the light, trailing hands up and down your body as you sway. The song playing was sensual and slow.
Your eyes trace over the woman’s form as you dance by yourself, knowingly teasing and seducing her. Pearly white teeth sink into her red-painted bottom lip as she watches you lift your dress to flash your panties in the large crowd. Two fingers dip into your mouth, collecting saliva and trailing down your body. Your hips buck slightly as your fingers come into contact with your wet panties and your sensitive clit.
You gently caress your clit and softly moan.
Red eyes darkened with lust as she grabbed you again, pulling you by your hips and holding you close. “Oho, seems I’ve got myself a little slut, hmm?” She chided, staring down at you. “You’re fucking filthy, huh?”She seemed to moan, blown pupils concealing her blood-red gaze. “Did you like the show?” You ask, giving her your most innocent look and licking your lips.
“I loved the show, honey. I wanna see more. I wanna see your cunt drip with arousal and cum after I eat you out.” The woman’s mouth like velvet as she brushed her lips against yours. Shaky breath leaves you as her hand's cradle and squeeze your ass. “I never caught your name, princess.” Your arms come to rest upon her shoulders. “I never threw it,” You giggle, making her give a stern look.
“I’m ___, I like ‘Honey’ a lot though.” Your teeth gently sink into your bottom lip. “Name’s Rumi.” Rumi, a pretty name for an even prettier girl. It replayed in your mind, an echoing melody. Rumi, Ru-mi, Roo-Me, Ruh-oo-me.
Rumi.
She’s pulling you away before you can argue, leading your pliable form to a booth across the dance floor. You glide through crowds and slip past people, hands interlocked as you walk.
It’s disorienting when Rumi pushes you onto the pleather seats, sliding in beside you. It’s pathetic how your cunt throbs when her hands rest on your hips. “You’re so pretty, honey.” Rumi's grip is possessive as if you were her prize for the evening.
“Look at you,” Her hands are roaming, creeping up your torso until they’re cupping your breast. A staticky feeling fluttered through your body at Rumi’s touch. Eventually, her hands move up to your cheeks, smushing your lips together. “Beautiful.” She leans in and softly kisses you.
Rumi’s hands eventually find their way to squeeze and grope at other parts of your body. Your lips are interlocked, tongues briefly intermingling. Rumi breaks the kiss, leaving you to pant hopelessly.
“You want me?” You nod, stupefied. With a quirk of her brow, you compose yourself enough to scramble a plea. “Isn’t that what I said on the floor?” Rumi smirks, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before leaning in to kiss you once more. Your lips meet, hers soft and sweet, a subtle burn behind her kiss from her previous alcohol consumption.
Rumi’s hands cradle your head and grasp at your hip. The kiss is deepened as her tongue glides against your own. As if your bodies were magnets you found yourselves gravitated towards each other. You shuffled onto her lap, your thighs strewn across hers as she held you closer.
Rumi’s hands escape to your waist as yours escape to hold the back of her head. Almost swapping positions. She grabs and gropes, pinching the skin and grinning as you cry out. Your mind is foggy, you’re present but, your body’s on fire.
You feel good, better than good. Your core throbs and aches, hips bucking as you beg for attention. Rumi obliges your silent pleas, she gently strokes your thigh. Skilled fingers just barely brushed against the thin fabric of your panties.
Your lips move in sync, her dominating yours as you submissively accept. Rumi teases your sensitive skin, dragging her nails drown your thighs, roaming towards your ass only to move away.
You pull back for air, panting heavily as Rumi kisses your neck. Hazy eyes darted around the club, hoping no one was watching you and your newest lover and it seemed as if you both were invisible to the intoxicated crowd. They were dancing, drinking, laughing, anything but, looking at your booth.
You pull Rumi back by her hair and smash your lips against hers. She admired your bold move but, shut you down soon after. Her teasing finally comes to an end as her fingers rub against your clothed clit. Your cunt leaks with arousal, the sticky fluid clinging to the panties adding the pool on the thin fabric.
Rumi pulls your panties to the side and slides her finger through your soaked cunt, collecting the juices you produced. She pulls back from the kiss and shoves her two fingers into your mouth, replacing the warm feeling of her soft tongue. Your eyes, wide and naive, stare into hers.
“Go on,” She gives you an encouraging nod. “Taste yourself.” This wasn’t your first rodeo by any means yet you felt so intimidated by her. Her presence alone was enough to make you feel small, almost insignificant.
Slowly, your tongue dances around her fingers. Between each digit and over each knuckle, you clean her finger of your arousal and allow her to slip them away from your mouth.
Rumi's saliva-slick hand trails back to your throbbing core and her finger traces your clit, applying pressure, making you moan.
Her eyes bore into yours, asking for permission before she continued with her insatiable and filthy acts. “Yes.” Your voice was soft but Rumi heard you loud and clear. Her fingers began their descent into your hot, wet cunt. The way they curled and scissored against your walls forced moans and gasps from you.
You were thankful for the upbeat, loud song the DJ had chosen to play.
Rumi's fingers were like magic, bringing you quickly to your impending orgasm. Your hips rock with her motions hoping for more friction and control. Rumi notices your tactic and pins you in place, giving you a stern look when you pout. “You take what I give.” She mumbled, staring down at her fingers sliding into your slick pussy.
Her eyes watched as your pussy throbbed with every movement and arousal leaked into her hand.
A loud moan makes Rumi look up at you. You sat slouched on the booth, teeth sunken into your hand and eyes squeezed shut. “You close baby?” You nod rapidly as the knot in your stomach nearly bursts. “You can cum baby, go ahead. Cum for me, honey.” Rumi kisses your neck and ear.
A strangled moan gets caught in your throat as the tension finally snaps as your orgasm washes over you. Cum drips down onto the seat and into her hand making her praise and console you. “You did so well for me honey.” She praises, rubbing her free hand up and down your trembling thighs.
“So good for me.” Your heart pounded and your head seemed hazy, not only from the activities you had engaged in earlier. You pant and whimper as you calm down for the erotic scene. Rumi smiles down at you, watching as you come down from your high.
“C’mon baby, come back to me. Floatin’ off too far.” She kisses your forehead, cheeks, and nose. Anything to jump-start your mind. Soon your eyes refocus, settling on the hulking form before you. God damn, isn’t she gorgeous? “There’s my pretty girl.” She coos, smiling. “I’d take you somewhere to continue this but, I didn’t show up alone.” Rumi waves, looking over you, raising her hand, and then focusing back on you.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t relax though.” Your walls throbbed and you realized she never removed her fingers. “Oh, sorry love. Wanted you to be more attentive before I overstimulated ya’.” The white-haired woman suddenly leans over you protectively, flashing a smile at whoever is approaching.
“Thank you.” Her voice was thick. A waitress places two trays of drinks on the table. The smaller woman bows and skips off leaving you two alone.
“You’re starin’, pretty.” Rumi grabs one of the drinks and downs it. You hadn’t even realized your eyes never left her. Honestly, besides the overall brain fog, you were still trying to decipher who she was.
You wince, as everything around you seems to become louder. It’s like a kick in the chest. This sudden clarity shocks your senses, sobering you from all previous events. You almost feel winded and dizzy.
“Breathe for me, honey.” You do as told, shutting you as she holds you. Her fingers shift within you, pulling a heavy whine from your chest. Rumi coos softly, rubbing her thumb over your aching clit to soothe you.
Slowly, her fingers are pulled from your aching cunt, leaving you empty. It’s crude, the way she grins at your watchful gaze. Rumi pulls the digits into her mouth, groaning at the taste of you. You watch with bated breath as she cleans herself before pressing a kiss to your lips.
“I’m gonna need to taste you again before the night ends.” Her voice is sultry and silky. You nod dumbly.
You're moved back to your spot beside her, a hand resting on your thigh for comfort. She’s forcing you to drink water as she talks, it’s a little hard to hear her over the music but, you were just happy to be looking at her. Suddenly, she catches something in her peripheral.
“You bastard!” She shouts to a figure approaching the table.
“Walkin’ with a fuckin’ limp? Already? I thought you could hang Mr. Takami.” A bashful blonde strolls up to the table. “Shut up.” The man whines as another figure approaches behind him. Rumi laughs as you notice the man behind the blonde.
Fucking Dabi.
Both of your eyes widen seeing each other. “Did you bring your toy to meet me?” Dabi stared at you in shock, impressed but, shocked nonetheless. “No, I need to take a seat.” Rumi laughs a sound that focuses you. “Well then, this is ___. Honey, this is my best friend, Keigo.”
Holy fuck. As if this night couldn’t get any goddamn better. Of course, he had to choose the one blonde who was best friends with your hookup.
“Heyo.” Keigo slides into the seat across from you. “This is Dabi. Dabi, Rumi.” He gestures towards the woman. Keigo’s a pretty blonde, average height with a nice build but, you couldn’t see much dark, collared shirt. Behind him, pressed between his back and the booth were a set of vibrant red wings.
A pair you had seen on television and Dabi’s phone many times.
“So how’d you two meet?” He asks as he pulls Dabi to sit beside him. “Saw her on the dance floor,” Rumi's arm comes to wrap around your shoulder, keeping you close. “She’s so fluid when she moves.” A smug look falls on Keigo’s face.
“What about you?” Rumi asks, stopping Keigo before he speaks further. “Oh, I saw hi—“ He is interrupted by Dabi. “Saw him in the bathroom, he let me do a line off his ass.” His nonchalance made the statement feel so natural as if the words he said weren’t totally absurd.
“You were in there for much longer than just ‘doing a line.’” Rumi presses. “You’re a smart girl, you saw the limp.” Dabi chuckles, grabbing a drink from the tray before him.
“How come my business gets aired out and Rumi gets to stay quiet?” Keigo pipes in.
“Oh relax, birdie. Maybe later.” Rumi takes her shot. “I’m kinda curious too.” You kick Dabi’s shin, making him laugh. “It’s fine, I’ll pry it out of the bird later.” You all laugh, grabbing shots and chatting.
You're sticking looking between Rumi and Keigo. Back and forth as if you were almost programmed to do as, analyzing them. The markings by Keigo’s eyes, Rumi’s ears, and muscles. “You alright there, dove?” Keigo asks, noticing your movements. Dove.
It finally clicked and you felt like an idiot.
You had been dancing with a pro. Mirko to be exact. You were kissing and grinding and letting Mirko touch you. The Bunny hero was seen as any lesbian's wet dream. Her muscled stature, boisterous personality, and glowing face made her easy to love.
Dabi on the other hand had been with Hawks. Japan’s heartthrob and favorite hero. His charming words, striking quirk, and gorgeous looks left everyone in awe.
The Mirko and Hawks. The Bunny and Bird duo most of Japan would drop their panties for.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You grab another drink from the table, quickly downing it to suppress the sudden onslaught of thoughts. “Where the hell have you been, doll?” Dabi spoke from his spot across from you. “I could ask you the same.” He gives you a look, one that says “I asked you first.”
“Need I remind you? You left me.” You stated matter of factly. “I was propositioned by an old man for a grand.” Rumi chimes in, “I can attest to that, I saved her.” Dabi just rolls his eyes, used to your typical dramatics. “Did you take it?”
“Not the point.”
“Look, at least I gave you a heads up.” He argues in defense. “Not really.” A look of annoyance crossed his scarred face. “Yeah, yeah. I told you I’d be busy.”
“Not with fucking Hawks.” You muttered to not alert anyone who may have been eavesdropping. “Oh well, told you it was a blonde.” Dabi shrugs as if that removed all the blame from him. “Besides you didn’t tell me it was Mirko.”
At his words, you shrink on yourself. The truth finally spills from your lips. “I didn’t realize it was her…” The man blinks at you in silence before erupting with laughter. “How do you not realize you’re getting fingered by Mirko?” Keigo and Rumi do their best to suppress their own giggles.
“Will you shut up?” You whisper-yell in embarrassment. “Aw come on, don’t give her a hard time,” Keigo speaks after calming himself. “The only reason we come to this shithole is to go unnoticed.” Which made sense, everyone seemed so focused on their own worlds.
“So,” Rumi hums from beside you. “How do you two know each other?” You sigh dramatically. “He is, unfortunately, my best friend.” Dabi rolled his eyes, leaning back and folding his arms to rest behind his head.
“You adore me.” He replied smoothly. “Loathe, you. There’s a difference.” You correct him. “Sure, like you would know.” The dark-haired man scoffs, looking over at the crowd.
“Seems like there’s something more than friends here.” Keigo admits. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Didn’t say that but, there’s something.” You lock eyes with the hero, studying his features in the dim lighting.
Although your way of life and line of work prevent you from being too involved with heroic affairs, you’ve seen Keigo before. His glowing skin, perfect hair, shiny wings, and stylish clothes. He’s gorgeous, in person and on screen.
He looks different before you, obviously out of hero attire and a professional setting. His normal get up replaced by a black collared shirt and matching jeans. Although a visor no longer obstructed the view of his golden eyes, his saucer-like pupils did.
“What did you do to him?” You asked, remembering Rumi’s remark about his walking. “Why do you wanna know? Fear you’re missin’ out?” He laughs, throwing an arm around the blonde.
“Hell no. Shut up!” You pout, leaning further into Rumi. “Don’t get so defensive. You know I gladly will.” You can feel a slight jealousy brewing inside of you, almost making your eyes twitch. “Take you in the back and bend you over. Want me to take a line off your ass too?” The rattle of his deep voice went straight to your cunt.
“Or do you wanna go back to mine?” You shift in your seat, cunt throbbing and panties soaking once more.
“That’s enough.” You grumble, face flushed. Dabi knew the perfect way to get under your skin, especially if he wanted something. “I mean, I really wanna get out of here.” Keigo leans his head on your friend's shoulder.
Dabi grins as Rumi also agrees. “We have a place nearby, it’s easier that way.” She says, not even giving you a moment to speak. All parties seemed to agree but you. You watch as Dabi kisses Keigo’s foreheads before whispering something inaudible in his ear.
Your cheeks are pinched and your fave is turned towards Rumi. “We should head out,” Rumi’s voice filled your head as she gets closer. “I wanna get you outta this dress.” She nibbles at your ear. “Does that sound good to you? Goin’ to a hotel or somethin’ and lettin’ me wreck this pretty pussy?” You have to stay quiet so you don’t moan. “Y-yes, please.” Your voice, weak and trembling.
Rumi and Keigo glance at each other and give a nod. “Let’s go.” Rumi helps you up from the booth, holding onto your arm as you wobble for a moment. She brushes herself off, quickly linking arms with Keigo.
“Look at me.” A rough voice commands, fingers finding your chin. You're forced to look into Dabi’s intimidating gaze. “You okay?” Before you can speak he’s brushing lint off of your dress and fixing your hair. “I’m okay, Dabi.” His thumb cautiously wipes stray eyeliner from beneath your water line.
“We can dip at any time. You wanna stop? We’ll go. Understand?” You nod quickly, not trusting your voice at the moment. “Good girl,” He pressed his lips to your forehead, making your eyes flutter shut. “Don’t need you puttin’ yourself in a bad situation f’me or because you’re starstruck, m’kay?” You nod again.
“I need words, pipsqueak.” A shiver wracked through your body. “Okay..”-“Good, thank you, princess.” You and Dabi’s relationship is more than complicated. You're not together by any means but, you keep the bed warm for each other. He’s never shown particular interest in you, besides your time spent together and jokes to mess with you.
Dabi has taken it upon himself to always be your caretaker. He's always there, even if you don’t see him. Especially in a situation like this, he’d never let you sleep with someone without his presence. For some reason, you abide by his rule.
“I drove us here, keeps things more inconspicuous,” Rumi says, tossing some cash on the table. “I’ll go pull the car around, there’s a lounge in the back.” She straightened her dress and threw her long hair into a bun. “Kei,” The blonde peers around Dabi. “Get them back there and I'll let you know when I’m here.” - “I gotcha. C’mon guys.”
Rumi kisses your cheek before she leaves, giving you a wink before she disappears into the crowd. Dabi throws an arm over your shoulder as Keigo grabs his hand, leading you all to a dim hallway lined with pictures and tacky decor.
A security guard and a black metal door were the only things here and as you approached man opened it. Four large men, dressed in security uniforms, turned to watch you enter. “Evenin’.” Keigo’s voice was chipper, he even wore a smile.
“Just waiting for our ride. Do you mind?” The men look at you, eyes flickering up and down. “Right this way Mr. Takami.” One of the men rises from his seat, unclamping a velvet rope and pulling the curtains back.
“Room number four is cleared, sir.” You follow behind them, entering the dim room. “Well, aren’t you helpful? I’ll be sure to leave a good tip.” You looked to Dabi. “Y’alright?” He murmurs, continuing to keep you close.
“I’m okay, I swear.” You nudge your head into his shoulder. “You’ve been all over the place, princess. Mind keeps wanderin’ away.” Keigo takes a seat, pulling his phone from his pocket.
Dabi lets you go, following Keigo's lead. He sits with enough room between him and Keigo for you to squeeze in. “C’mon, get comfortable.” Dabi pats the space. Both of their thighs were spread, leaving you practically no room to sit without sitting in them.
“Rumi shouldn’t be too long but,” Keigo tucks his phone away. “She parked on the other side of the street.” He shrugs, adjusting his position. “Might as well take a seat.” His gaze was predatory, the way his hips shifted, exposing his dickprint.
You roll your eyes and take the seat, ending up spread on their laps. They don’t mess around, hands quickly coming to touch and rub at your figure. Their faces in your neck, kissing at the skin and tickling you with their breaths.
“You’re so pretty, dove.” Keigo mutters, his hand squeezing at your thigh. “I like this color on you.” Dabi nips at your lobe. “Thank you.” You’re already breathless, almost overwhelmed by the attention you’re receiving.
“Did you say ‘thank you’ to Keigo?” He asks, voice husky. “Thank you, Keigo.” You pant out, locking eyes with him. “Good girl.” Dabi coos, his hand coming to cradle the nape of your neck. “Isn’t he pretty?”
You're positive your pupils match Keigo’s. Dilated and hazy but, full of lust. His hands creep around your waist as he pulls you close. “Mhm,” You hum, entranced with the man before you. “You should kiss him, pretty.” He felt like your conscious or the little devil sitting on your shoulder.
“For me, yeah?” Egging you on for mutual satisfaction. Keigo kisses you, unable to take the tension much longer. Lips mashing, hands roaming, and soft groans rumbling from your chests. Dabi watches with a wide grin, one hand on your neck and the other on Keigo’s clothed dick.
He would occasionally squeeze both of you, relishing in your moans.
Keigo’s hands move to your breasts, squeezing the flesh in his palms before slipping his hands beneath the fabric. He breaks from the kiss to ogle your tits, pressing his face between them, kissing them, and sucking on the skin. “Keigo, shit.” You bite your finger to suppress your sounds.
Keigo worships your tits. Lapping at and sucking on your nipples, tweaking them between his fingertips. He left hickeys in his wake, covering your chest in lovebites to remember him by. The warmth of his tongue in your sensitive nipples flooded your cunt.
Dabi’s hands left their positions, soon one was trailing up and down your thigh. The other was unbuckling his jeans and delving beneath the fabric of his boxers to stroke his aching erection.
You grab Dabi’s hand, placing it exactly where you needed him. His large hand covered your entire clothes cunt, his fingers press along the fabric. “One time not enough?” He asks in a hushed tone. “Please, I don’t ask for much.”
“Yeah right.” Dabi scoffs but, obliges your plea. Your panties are shifted to the side exposing your soaked pussy to the cold air. You whine loudly as his finger presses against your clit, the skin-to-skin feeling almost foreign.
The men had focused their attention on you. Keigo worshiped your breasts as he stroked himself. Dabi made quick work of stimulating your clit, drawing tight circles in the bundle of nerves. Your juices were coating his fingers, causing them to slip occasionally.
“You’re soaked.” Dabi coos, allowing his fingers to glide through your slick folds. “Ya’ like me spreadin’ you open?” You mewl at his words, squirming in your spot. He snickers, watch as you watch him attentively, awaiting his next touch.
Two thick digits circle your aching cunt before delving into the source of slick. Your back arched at the intrusion, hands flying down to grab his. Dabi’s fingers slowly pump into you, rendering any fight against him useless.
You’re soon weak, laid across him and Keigo, on display for anyone who may pass through. Your cunt squeezes around him, gushing from the slightest ministrations. You're already sensitive, having an orgasm ripped out of you once before.
Now Dabi’s assault on your poor cunny felt like overkill. His thumb was pressed to your clit, tight circles traced on your skin, his fingers deep in your core, Keigo’s hot mouth on your tits.
It’s becoming too much.
“Kei, c’mere.” Dabi broke the static of your moans, guiding their faces together before locking into a deep kiss. You're pliant and needy beneath them, helpless watching from below as they make out. It's slow, passionate, something that makes your heart skip a beat. They seemed comfortable as if they’d been in this scenario before. Knowing, Dabi, they have.
Keigo writhed in his spot, softly thrusting into his hand for any kind of friction.
Dabi refuses to skip a beat, his fingers increase with pace. You cry out from beneath them, soaking the fabric below you.
Dabi breaks the kiss, pulling Keigo up and into his lap. “S’fuckin’ pretty.” He mutters, grabbing the blonde’s jaw. Heavy eyes, filled with lust, meet your own. You stood dumbly in the room, fingers twisting strands of hair. “For someone so hellbent on gettin’ fucked tonight, you’re bein’ quiet distance.” His brow quirks up, asking you to give him some excuse.
“Does it feel good, princess?”
“Speak up.”
“It feels so good, please don’t stop!” Your pretty eyes are full of tears, pleading with him to keep going. Keigo, ever the pleaser, locks you into a deep kiss. You hum in contentment, eyes fluttering shut. Keigo is quick and needy, a predator devouring his prey.
His kiss was hungry. All spit, tongue, and teeth. Hands wandering, tugging, and squeezing at whatever they can find.
Keigo pulls away almost as quickly as he sprung towards you. He’s a panting mess of blonde hair and disheveled clothing. “I need to taste that pretty pussy.” He heaves between bated breaths. “Ya’ gonna let me, dove?” He doesn’t give you a moment to speak, latching onto your neck once more leaving pretty purple marks against your skin.
“Car’s out back let’s—“ Dabi is the only one coherent enough to notice Rumi in the doorway, sending her a two-fingered wave. She watched as you writhed in Keigo’s grasp, soft moans spilling from your spit-soaked lips.
“I hate to break the party up but, if we don’t leave right now I’m gonna slut you all out in front of everyone.”
None of you waited around for another order. Scrambling to dress yourselves and exit the dingy building. It didn’t take long to get to their hotel, a ten-minute drive max.
Rumi sat in the driver's seat, struggling to keep her eyes on the road. The rest of you piled into the back of the vehicle, a perfect distraction for your driver. Grinding, kissing, moaning, spanking each other. Her eyes would flicker between the streets in front of her and the backseat.
Rumi desperately wished she could just watch, pull over to the side of the road, and throw all caution to the wind. She wanted to watch as you and Hawk’s sloppily made out in the backseat, tongue tangling and grinding against each other's thighs but, the rearview mirror would have to suffice.
Once arriving at the hotel, she helped untangle the mess of limbs and escorted you all to their room. She scolded Keigo as he nearly sunk to his knees in the elevator, reminding him of the cameras watching their every move.
You had to behave until getting into their room and once you did, you were aghast. Your eyes widened as you looked around, no longer focused on your partners behind you. “This place costs more than my rent.” You awed, looking around. Rumi and Keigo snicker, licking up and getting comfortable.
There’s a sudden gust of wind, lifting the skirt of your dress and you’re surrounded for a moment by a plume of crimson. You turn, and watch as Keigo stretches his wings. They almost double in size, effectively dwarfing you beneath him. He wore a proud smile on his face, wings back to their full appearance.
“Sorry, dove. Feels weird not having them around.” You yelp as something brushes against your nipples before a red feather slips from between your breasts and onto the wings of the hero before you. “Pervert.” You tease, making him chuckle.
“Come with me.” Keigo takes your hand pulling you behind him. He leads you from the entryway to the closed door of the bedroom. Two feathers pushed the doors open revealing a stunning bedroom. Your jaw falls in shock once more.
The room was huge, decked in neutral-toned colors, floor-to-ceiling windows, mood lighting, and a large bed in the center. “Seems like you two were plannin’ on bringin’ someone home.” Dabi's voice made you jump, he stood in the doorway beside Keigo.
“It wasn’t exactly Rumi’s plan.” He admits, leaning against the taller man. Dabi pulls the hero close, pressing a kiss to his hairline. You were too enraptured with the room to hear their conversation only for Keigo to speed past you.
He collapses onto the bed, sprawling out onto the sheets of the massive bed.
You jump feeling a quick smack to your ass. “Get on up there, princess.” Dabi coos, following behind Keigo. You watch as he kisses the blond, straddling his waist, and pinning his hands beside his head. “You heard him, right?” Rumi’s voice scared you. “Relax, honey.”
“And take that pretty dress off, I wanna get a few things.” Rumi was already taking off her heels, allowing them to clatter to the floor.
You followed her orders perfectly, stripping yourself of your dress only to be stopped by a warm hand. “Let me help you.” Dabi stared at you with such intensity and lust, a look you’ve seen from him many times but, this was different. A kind of gentleness resting behind his gaze.
“Da—“ He hushes you. Carefully, his hands slip beneath the strap of your dress, knocking them off your shoulders. “Calm down, doll.” His hands were hot as they pulled your dress down your legs, lips attached to your skin, leaving lavender memories for you to find later.
You're gently pushed onto the bed and he follows suit, back to kissing your sensitive skin.
Keigo moves to the other side of you, kissing your thighs in worship. You felt as if you were on a cloud, having two men adore your body felt amazing. The men met at your hipbones, staring at each other over you before leaning in for another heated kiss.
Their tongues tangled with each other, strings of spit slipping from their mouths and down onto your heated skin. You writhed and whimpered, watching the two men delve into such intimacy. Keigo's hand was quick to find your clothed cunt, dragging his fingers up and down your soaked folds. Your hips canted up, breaking their kiss. “Calm down, princess.” Dabi’s voice made you shiver, heart pounding harder in your chest.
His scarred lips are pressed against your panty-clad clit, eliciting a beautiful moan from your kiss-swollen lips. He sloppy kissed your clit, laving over it with his tongue, moaning each time you writhed beneath him and the blonde.
A throat clearing makes your eyes snap open.
Rumi stands at the end of the bed, lilac strap-on standing proudly before her. “I see you all are getting along well.” She gets a chorus of moans in return. Your panties were soaked in drool from the men, all of it mixing with your arousal and making it drip and coat your cunt and ass. “Such a sight for sore eyes,” Rumi crawls onto the bed, slowly. Dabi and Keigo slowly pull back from your cunt as she made her way towards you. “Such obedient boys, hmm?” She grabbed their jaw.
Keigo melted immediately, a doe-eyed look on his face while Dabi was the complete opposite. A look of annoyance and embarrassment washes over him before he pulls from her grip.
“Thank you for gettin’ her nice n’ wet f’me.” Her red gaze was now on you and you nearly cried. She was all muscle and curves.
Heavy tits sitting perfectly on her chest, thick thighs on full display, wet pussy hidden by her harness and strap. She noticed your gaze, spitting on her hand and slicking up the toy. “You wan’ this? Hmm?” She hums, teasing you without even touching you. “You want Mommy’s big cock inside you, baby?” You whimpered loudly, nodding quickly. She laughs at you, loud and mean. “Yeah? Okay, I’ll give it to you, honey.”
She leaned down, hovering over you. “‘M gonna ruin you, baby.” She teases your slick folds with the tip, dragging it down from your clit to your sopping hole and back up again. She repeated this motion several times, watching as your resolve slowly broke until you were clinging to her and whining for her to just, “Put it in already!”
She answered your prayers soon enough, her thick cock splitting you open on her pretty strap. A moan is ripped from the deepest parts of you. “Fuck, so tight.” Her eyes stared down at your hole, watching how your walls held her. Rumi pulls out slowly, pushing back in just a little deeper. She keeps her thrusting at a steady slow pace, watching as you squirm beneath her.
You were growing slightly impatient, wrapping your legs around her waist, trying to push her deeper. She ignored your pleas and pinned your arms as you went to grab her. “Mph-please,” You beg, getting tired of the slowness. “F-Faster, Mommy.” Her ears perked up, her body going rigid for a moment. Her tail moved quickly, tickling your ankles and calves. She kicked into overdrive, pulling out quickly and pounding into you with a loud ‘squelch!’ You felt all of the air get punched out of you and you didn’t even get a moment to recover.
She fucked into you quickly, thick cock slamming into your cervix without care. You keened and cried, happy you got your wish. “Fuh-fuck yes, Mommy!” You cry, tears wetting your hazy eyes and flushed cheeks. “More-muh-more!” Her pretty hands wander down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on your soaked cunt.
Her other hand dragged over your figure, gently stimulating you but, making you beg for more. Your eyes roll to see Dabi mounted behind Keigo, the younger male's wings spread and twitching as his eyes roll. Finger digging into the fabric as he cried out your best friend’s name.
The ghost-like touch of her hands caressing your bosom and the heavy pressure of her strap, deep inside your gummy walls, made you squirm.
Some cry out when they cum. Backs arched and lips open in a shout. They’ll cry for their mothers, god, or anything their lust-hazed minds can possibly name in the heat of the moment.
You were definitely a part of that group.
Whenever your hands or your silicone toy has brought you to another orgasm, you’d cry out and arch your back in ecstasy before falling back into the comfort of warm sheets.
Now you cried out her name, back arched high off the bed as you cum just for her. She laps it all up, her non-stop thrusts dragging it on for what felt like ages. “Such a good baby,” She coos, bringing her lips down to nibble at your collarbone. “There you go, cum ‘round this strap, honey.” You cried out at each sharp thrust, feeling her so deep inside you, that it drove you crazy.
Your silky walls throbbed, slick continuing to leave rings of creamy white around her strap. Your hips jerked suddenly, trying to pull away from her. “Too much? Hmm?” You nod quickly, breathless and lightheaded. Your bleary vision focused on Keigo next to you, eyes crossed as Dabi fucked him into oblivion, drooling trailing from between his pretty swollen lips.
“Okay, okay.” Rumi’s thrusts come to a stop as she stays nestled inside you. Her lips wrap around your nipple, gently sucking at the hard bud. “So good, baby.” She hums, tongue curling around your bruised breasts.
“Gonna let Mommy cum, hmm? Mommy’s gonna cum for you, baby.” She kisses your chest, removing her hand to rub at her own clit. Her heavy strap rested against your cunt and stomach. Her mouth covers your own, allowing you to swallow each of her moans as she draws herself over the edge.
Soon, she came so prettily. Moans flowed freely as she tossed her head back before burying it into your neck. She shivered against you, kissing your neck and rubbing your hips.
You two lay in the aftermath, lulled into relaxation by the steady moans and thrusts of the couple next to you. A wing suddenly smacks you in the face, forcing your eyes open in frustration. Keigo’s back was arched so prettily. Wings fanned out, mouth hung open as rope after rope of cum splurt out from his throbbing cock. Dabi soon toppled over the edge after him. Filling him to the brim then, pulling out to watch it pour from his abused hole.
You all lay in the bed, catching your breath after all of the pent-up sexual tension came to fruition.
“Fuck,” Dabi was the first to speak. “Need ‘nother blunt.” Keigo laughed, rolling onto his back. Rumi nuzzled your neck, pressing more kisses. Dabi sat up, stretching himself out, getting up to grab his coat. Rumi sat up, removing her strap which left pretty indents on her dark skin. Dabi returned, holding a baggie and his packet of papers.
Dabi leaned to the side, using Rumi’s nightstand to roll a few blunts. Everyone took a moment to breathe, coming down from their long-awaited orgasm of the night. You knew it wasn’t over though. Golden eyes traced over your bare skin, flickering from your blissed-out face to your still-dripping cunny.
You could feel the throb from your cunt once you see his cock, slowly twitching back to life. You two kept your eyes on each other while Rumi and Dabi spoke. You both slide closer to each other, sitting with still a bit of room between you two.
Suddenly, you two surged towards each other, lips locking in a heated kiss. Hands roaming all over each other's figures. Pulling hair, grabbing feathers. You both pull away, panting and sloppy. “Wan’ you to suck my cock, baby.” He was slightly out of breath, puffs of air fanning your face. “Wan’ fuck ‘his pretty pussy.” He was still slightly delirious, both of your eyes practically mimicking hearts.
Your hands drift down to his already hard cock, gently stroking him as he cooes so prettily beside you.
“Such a pretty cock, Kei.”
He whines and keens, your thumb swirling around his cockhead, collecting any stray precum. You stared down at the blonde’s cock lovingly, enjoying his purrs and moans. Your cunt was throbbing, slick leaking down your thighs and onto the sheets. You need Keigo, desperately. You hardly wasted any time. Dropping down and wrapping your lips around his pretty cock.
His hips cant up into your mouth before you held him still, suckling his pretty head while he cried beneath you. “S-so good, ___! Feels so fuckin’-ah!” He was so sensitive from his previous fucking, twitching wildly in your mouth and already pumping drops of precum into your mouth. “S’fuh-hmm!” He tosses his head back, running his fingers through your hair before grabbing a decent handful. Dabi and Rumi sat on the sidelines.
Sharing a blunt between the two of them, watching you both indulge in each other. Keigo panted erratically. Already feeling the burn of overstimulation from his previous heavy orgasm. Your mouth was his vice, one he couldn't get rid of. A few feathers part from his vermillion wings, caressing over your body. Carefully winding around your breasts and legs, squeezing tightly onto your nipples.
“Fuck, fuck! Need ta’ ma-make you feel good ___!” Keigo gasps out, followed by the buzzing of a toy Rumi set on the bed early. He teases your hole, circling the cylinder around and coating it in your juices. You initially jumped once it made contact with your clit, taking the blonde’s cock further down your throat and moaning around him.
Pleased by your reaction, he continued to circle your clit and slap it against your sobbing cunt.
Finally, he plunges the vibrator deep inside of you, the thickness of it filling your walls and making you cry out. He kept his cock deep in your throat, fucking into your warmth while his feathers continued to please you. The two on your nipples curled and uncurled, effectively pinching you. The small one on your clit, buzzing quickly and making you gush. Several around your body, gently dragging up and down, keeping you on this edge.
His pretty hands brushed your hair out of your face, wanting to watch as you fell apart for him. “S’good, baby!” He tosses his head back with a loud moan. “Fuckin’ hell! This mouth so fuckin’ good, ‘m gonna cum down yer’ throat, dove!” He was losing his composure, wings unable to stay still as they fluttered and trembled. He was writhing beneath you, fully caught up in the pleasure of your mouth as you bobbed on his cock.
Your walls were tight, squeezing around the buzzing toy. The rope in your stomach was unraveling as you gagged and choked on Keigo’s cock. Each sound forces you closer and closer to your own orgasm. “Please, please!” He begged, seemingly to any higher power. Dabi leans over, stroking his hair and kissing his face. “Such a good boy, Kei.”
“C’mon, cum for her, Keigo.” Rumi joined in, rubbing his chest and hips.
“I’m—gah, ah—fuck!” His lips part in a silent cry, an angel’s plea. Tears were running down his face, matching your own. You two came together; Your walls squeezing around the silicone toy and his cock pumping into your throat. He emptied himself into your mouth. You came with him, gushing around the toy as you swallow his cum. As an attempt to slow your breathing, you drink aloof his arousal. Pulling off his now softening cock with a dopey grin only to fall onto him in exhaustion.
You laid nearly lifeless over top of Keigo. Rumi and Dabi quickly come to your aid. Pulling you off of each other. Rumi cradles the shaking blonde, stroking his hair as he cries. You curled in on yourself, quivering as tears rolled down your cheeks. “Oh no, it’s okay. You both did so good. So good.” Your mind couldn't process what was happening anymore. Brain so clouded, your eyes couldn't focus on your surroundings.
You lay there, shaking, and shut your eyes. Slipping into an uncomfortable unconsciousness.
You were so out of it. High on weed and your numerous orgasms of the night. Your body ached in overstimulation, shivers wracking through you periodically. Heated hands run up and down your quivering body.
“Shhh, relax, princess.” A voice rasps in your ear, kisses pressed down your spine. You lay on your stomach, trying to calm down and stop your hyperventilating. “I know, I know,” He cooes, continuing his motions. “You’re doin’ so well f’us. Doin’ so fuckin’ well.” You relaxed under his grip, eyes slowly fluttering open.
“Can you hear me, princess?” You nod, tapping on the bed a few times. “Good, good.” He moves to cuddle you more easily, one of his arms moving to support your head. “You wanna keep goin’? I’m not gonna force you to take more if ya’ can’t.” Your mouth was dry, probably a factor of cotton mouth but, you swallowed enough spit to coat your throat.
“Yes, please,” You take another large swallow. “Wan’ more.” Dabi chuckles, lightly smacking your inner thigh. “Dumb little slut wants more cock?” He purrs in your ear, moving to straddle you. “Yes, Dabi. Wan’ more.” He manhandles you, forcing you more onto your stomach then, pushing your knees in so you’d be presenting for him, ass in the air.
“Such a gorgeous ass,” He spreads your cheeks apart, watching as your cunt drools for him. “Sloppy girl.” He dives down, kissing your messy hole. Your jolt forwards, whining loudly into the pillows. “My pretty girl.” His scarred lips tainted your hole, smothering and lapping up any juices that spilled out of you.
His jeweled fingers soon join, slipping into your abused hole. “Da-Dabi!” You jolted forward, moving away from him. A sharp smack is landed right onto your left asscheek, followed by two extra.
“Who the fuck are you runnin’ from, huh?” His voice was deep as he growled the words at you. Sharp teeth soon dig into your ass. You cried out, once again moving from the blossoming pain. Dabi spanks your cunny, cackling at your cries. “Answer me you fuckin’ brat.” He tugs your hair, forcing you back to stare at him from upside down. Tears were in your eyes once again, threatening to pour out at any moment.
“‘M suh-sorry, Dabi.” You were begging for sympathy. “Nuh uh, apologize right.” Your brain was so hazed, you searched his eyes hoping for an answer.
“‘M sorry, Daddy.” He smirks widely, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He kisses your lips softly, letting go of his rough hold. “You wan’ my cock, hmm?” - “Yes, Daddy. Want your cock, daddy.” A pleased smile worked its way onto his face.
Dabi readjusts your position, pushing your head into the pillows. “Be good for me, princess.” His leaking cockhead drags through your folds, starting from your clit and dragging down. You whine and push back onto him, hoping for more. He stops, slapping his pierced shaft against your soaked cunny. “Bet this pretty pussy’s so tight,” He grabs your hips as he begins to push in. “So tight and fuckin’ wet.” Dabi growls.
Feeling each cold bulb of his pierced dick sliding into your tight heat made you keen into the sheets. Fisting them tightly between your fists and jaw falling open. “Ah—fuck me…” His voice was slow and drawn out as he pushed through your gummy walls. “Fuck yes, Daddy.” You pant, drooling onto the mussed sheets. Once he’s fully seated, he slowly pulls back out; Letting another beautiful moan flow from his tainted lips.
After a few agonizing thrusts, ripping whines, and whimpers from you, his thrusts pick up the pace. “Came four fuckin’ times an’ you’re still tight as a virgin?” The dark-haired man snarls, fucking into your tight cunt quickly.
His slow pace became fast and ruthless. “Oh shit, Daddy!” You shouted, picking your head up for a breath of fresh air. You moan shamelessly into the air, eyes hazed in pleasure.
“Please—shit—please, please! Sluh—slow down!” The air was being punched out of your lungs. You could feel his cock in your stomach, making a very obvious bulge protrude from your stomach. “Pluh—please! Stop, Daddy! ‘S too much!”
“Ugh—god! Daddy, please!” His cock rammed your cervix, uncaring that you begged him to stop. His fingers dug into your hips in a bruising grip, keeping you upright as he used your dripping cunt. “Creamin’ on daddy’s dick already, hmm?” He growled in your ear, biting at the lobe. “Just started and you're already fallin’ apart.” His hips roughly smacked into your ass, pleasingly reddening your skin.
Dabi’s thrusts were precise and sharp, nailing your sweet spot each, and every time. “Squeezin’ me so damn tight, baby,” His head falls between your shoulder blades. His forehead presses against your sticky skin. “Cum for me, doll. Cum all over Daddy’s dick.” Voice ragged from strain. His fingers trail down to your clit, weaving tight circles to bring you to the edge and you followed his order. Cumming loudly around his thick cock. Cunt pulsating and gushing around him as he moans in pleasure. Praising you for being so damn good for him.
“My good girl, my good fuckin’ girl!” His voice hitches as his hips stutter. “Fuck ‘m gonna cum, pretty.” He presses hot kisses to your back, lips dragging against your skin as he continues to fuck you roughly. You were breathless, barely hanging on to consciousness as he pistons in and out of your abused cunny. You wouldn't be walking for weeks.
“Gonna fill up this tight pussy, m’kay, baby?” You nodded slowly, caught in your post-orgasm haze. The world covered by a thick smoke screen. He grips your waist hard as he spills into your womb, hips continuing their movements as he fucks his cum deep inside of you. Finally, he collapsed onto you. Kisses and mumbled apologies pressed into your skin; Digging into your brain.
The room's air was thick with smoke and lust. Everyone panting and returning to their previous reality. You and Keigo were down for the count. Both lay flat on your faces, panting wildly and eyes shut.
“Y’done?” You lay on the bed in a daze. Mouth parted, drool spilling onto the cool silk sheets. Body shivering from overstimulation and the crisp air. Holes twitching, nearly violently as slick and cum pour out of you. Your eyes are unfocused, staring ahead of you. If it weren’t for the rise and fall of your body, they would’ve thought you were dead.
“Let’s clean ‘em up, get ‘em in bed.” Dabi is already scooping you in his comforting grip. She helps Keigo up, leading you all to the bathroom. A soft kiss is pressed to your hairline, making you hum in content.
“I gotcha, princess.”
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localkiss ¡ 1 month ago
Text
Fucking After Party!
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pairings: leon kennedy x fem!reader
synopsis: Of course your big brother coddles you. Do you find it weird? Yes. So, you slip away to a Halloween party, unbeknownst to what will happen later in the night. Maybe you'll find yourself clinging to your older brother in time of need.
cw: MDNI!! INCEST !! Knives, oral, p in v, unprotected sex, noncon/dubcon, creampies, spanking, manhandling, degradation, praise, overstimulation, poor depictions of alcohol and drinking, poor depictions of flirting (im shorry), videotaping.. um probably more but i don't wanna spoil it. LEON IS VERY OOC (since some ppl are babies about that 🙄)
wc: 4.6k
tags: @dilfstar @adiorxia @leonkennedygvrl @bunnyclaire @rigorwhoring @leonsdolly @admirxation @gettingsilly @nilpill @withonly-sweetheart @cakelitter
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“Hey little sis,” he hums out, hand reaching up to pet your head with affection. Thinking about how cute you are when you look up at him with red hot cheeks. His eyes dip down your body, so soft and plush. Perfect. 
“Leoonnnn!” You drag out his name in an annoyed tone. Swatting his hand away. Can't help but think that he's a pest, constantly buzzing around you. Never leaving you alone.
Like, c’mon doesn't he have a job? He's always been a bit of a lurker around you, but especially now that you're in college. Can't always be his baby sis. One day, you'll have a significant other, leave the house, and sort of cut contact for the most part. Be too busy to entertain your loser of an older brother. 
To him though? You will be by his side forever. Dote on you forever and ever. Never make you pay any bills, lift a finger, or even have the time to complain about something. Because, guess what! Big brother is always here for you. To take care of you and never make you have to get a job to sustain yourself. 
Leon just chuckles at your display of frustration. He wants to comment on how cute you are, especially when you say his name like that. 
Wants to just snatch you up and cuddle with you until you are fast asleep in his arms. His strong, firm biceps against your body like you're a body pillow. 
Imagining you scooting up close until you're snug against his body. Your ass pressing into his groin so much that he can feel your tailbone. To imagine you knocked out so he can take full advantage of you. Better yet, if you pretend to be asleep, letting him grope you in ways a brother shouldn't. 
Honestly, he thought about ordering some sleeping pills to dissolve into your drinks. So when he feels like feeling you up in your sleep, he can do it while making sure you're gonna stay asleep.
And place a camera in your room so he can watch back on how you look and react in your sleep. See if you smile in your sleep. Good material to jerk off to, especially good if he manages to snag a pair of your panties.
He sucks on his teeth and shakes his head down at you. “So… where’re you headed, looking like that? Got a hot date or what?” Leon drags his eyes slowly once more. One thing caught his eye immediately. Can't believe he didn't even notice it the first time he looked at you. 
You are wearing black pantyhose and a white mini dress. What are you, some cheap hooker? No, no, no… you are his baby. Only he should see you like this. Not some fucking douchebag who's going to do a pump and dump.
Man, if he ever catches some guy trying to dick you down in your bed.. it'll be over. One flash of his badge and the guy will go running off with his tail between his legs. It doesn't mean anything to Leon if your love or sex life doesn't even begin.
“I'm going to a Halloween party.” You answer bluntly, gesturing towards your sexy nurse rendition. Shifting from one foot to the other, your maroon colored heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Sighing deeply, like he's boring you. 
Leon raises his eyebrows. Even worse than a date. A whole party full of immature adults whose brains aren't fully developed. Great. Perfect. 
“Sure you don't want me to go with you? I can be a sexy cop,” he puts his hands on his hips with a sly smile. “I can even bring my handcuffs.” 
You wrinkle your nose at that. “Um, no thanks. You'll just be watching me the entire time, again. Remember last time?” 
Closing your eyes and shaking your head rapidly for a few seconds. It was weird. 
“Oh come on , I was making sure nobody was trying anything funny. Can't consent if you're totally wasted.” As if he isn't planning on touching you in your sleep. 
Though, you've no idea that he's thinking this stuff. Supposed to be a good guy. Good cop. 
However, there is something about you that makes that dark side of his brain itch. Maybe it is because you are his little sister? The fact that you guys used to play house together? Used to do things that would be weird to do as two grown adults. 
Him being the husband, you being the wife. Parents in the other room as you mimicked what they did a lot, which is a quick peck on the lips. It was innocent. 
Or when you both were forced to change in the bathroom together, after swimming. It was all fine and dandy since you're family. And when it became weird, was when you were fourteen and he was sixteen. 
Weird that your brother kept following you and bothering you. Or was the chaperone at dances. Always staring and glaring down at other boys. Pissed you off and you both argued on the way home. You did not have a good time at any dances because of him. 
“I need to protect you from the bad guys,” he said. “Mom says I have to watch you, since I'm older than you,” he said. What is he, some sort of hero?
It only got worse when you walked in on him masturbating. You remember the way his mouth was formed in an ‘o’ shape, how his cock was flushed at the tip. How he had his head tilted back into his pillow. The lewd sounds of him fucking his fist and his soft groans and whimpers. And how his muscles rippled with each tug, the slight sheen of sweat on his naked figure. 
Leon was just mumbling to himself. “Yeah? Yeah, just like that. Mhmm…” 
“Take it baby, take it.”
“Please let me cum inside of you. Please let me.” 
And a whole bunch of other things you simply wish you never heard out of his mouth. It makes you cringe. But you also feel disgusted for squeezing your thighs together as you watched him. He was big. Real big. 
“Yeah. But I want to go, to have a good time, Leon.” You insist on leaving alone. “I'll text you if I need any help.” 
Giving him a flat smile, you click clack your way to your friend's car outside. Getting inside the vehicle and driving away swiftly. Looking out the window and seeing Leon wave goodbye to you. 
As soon as you arrive at the party, you are bombarded with the smell of weed, sweat, and alcohol. Just the right scent notes for a candle!
You shimmy your way into the kitchen for a red solo cup to fill up with some concoction of alcohol and juice. Doing so, you find yourself flirting with a guy who is dressed up as a vampire. And he convinces you to dance with him. 
Making your way to the dance floor, he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. Slowly moving it down towards your hips. It’s a bit weird for someone to be so confident and comfortable with touching a woman like that immediately. But you ignore it for the time being. 
Slowly getting to know him and all of his interests. Barely giving you any time to talk about yourself. It's whatever. He's cute. 
It sure is fun letting loose and drinking all your sorrows away.
You feel his hand start to slip down towards the top of your ass. Still, you don't say anything. Maybe it's just the alcohol dulling your senses, you just can't find a care in the world to stop him. 
He leads you back to the kitchen, pouring you a drink. Urging you to finish what he made you before you both got back to the dance floor. Kind of weird, but alright. 
Shit. All you can see and feel is his soft body against you, his dick grinding up against your stomach. The black shaggy hair and his stupid vampire collar. And his old spice ass cologne, ugh. Headache central. 
You excuse yourself and go to the kitchen. Fixing yourself another cup, because fuck it. And then another man comes up and starts chatting away with you. 
Eventually, you both make it outside. Talking about the most random bullshit you could think of. 
This guy's pretty cute too. No costume though, from what you could tell. And, he's eyeing you up like candy. Like he wants to eat you up here and now. Hot…!
He's tall, skinny, and has dark brown hair. Oh, not to mention the weird black lines on his face. Maybe…it's his costume? You hope. 
“So, what's your costume?” You gesture towards his outfit. 
“I'm dressed up as Choso from Jujutsu Kaisen, you probably don't know it. It's an anime.” He explains with a shrug of his shoulders and a smirk to his lips. 
Oh! So he's one of those guys. Yeah, nevermind. No thanks, Mr. Nice guy. 
“Oh, okay… Cool. I'll be sure to look that up later,” you hum and nod your head. 
He created this awkward atmosphere. Best to just swipe it under the rug and talk about something else. Or, just get more alcohol! Because alcohol fixes everything! 
Both of you make your way back into the house and you grab some more of that good stuff. Gulping it all down and smoothing your slutty nurse outfit out. Bending over to fix your stockings, to make sure it looks cute still. 
Somebody comes up behind you and whistles. That gets your attention in the wrong way. Doesn't matter to the guy though. Attention is attention. Can't help but wrinkle your nose at him, watching him walk away with a smug look on his face.
You straighten up and sigh, checking your phone. It's only been two hours? 
God, it feels like it's been an eternity in this swamp of horny drunk adults. You can't see your friends anywhere, assuming they've already left and are going to hookup with some stranger. Like always, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. It's cool though. 
Rubbing your bleary eyes, you stumble out the front door. The chilly air of October coming to bite you in the ass. Quite literally. It's almost hanging out with the way it keeps riding up. It's not too cold, as you have some liquid courage in your system! Thank god for that! 
Feeling your teeth start to chatter, you manage to send your location to Leon. Opening your camera, you take a good look at yourself. Fixing yourself up to take a few photos. Might as well, since you look absolutely amazing. Wouldn’t want this makeup to be all for nothing, now would we?
As you smile and pose for the camera, you feel two arms slipping around your waist. But no groin pressing up against you. Odd. You bite your lip and turn your head. 
“What the—Leon?”
“Yes, silly. That's my name, don't wear it out.” He chuckles down at you. “What? I was getting ready to pose for a picture with you.” 
You roll your eyes, feeling his chin rest on your shoulder. And at the last second, he moves his hand to come up and squish your cheeks together. Ruining the photo. 
Turning around, you let out a huff of air. Hitting him once in the chest before making your way to his Jeep. Not bothering to chastise him for doing that. You've had enough of men for today. 
Buckling yourself, you squeeze your legs together, trying to warm up quickly. The warm air fanning all around you, undoing all the prickles in your skin, it's refreshing. Leon gets into the driver's side and buckles himself before driving back to your guys’ house. 
Closing your eyes, you tilt your head back against the headrest. The bumps and the soft sound of the radio killing you to sleep. Thankfully Leon doesn't say anything the rest of the way home. 
As the car slows to a stop, you wake up from your little—but much appreciated—nap. Groaning, you unbuckle and get out. Staggering your way up the stairs and waiting for Leon to hurry up and unlock the front door. 
His thick hair bounces with each step he takes as he jogs his way towards you. Opening it and walking inside, shutting it and locking it behind you.
He takes his shoes off, leaving them at the door and disappears into the hallway. You sigh, taking your heels off and hurrying to your room. Closing it behind you, you set your shoes on the floor. Flopping onto your bed with a groan. 
Before you could begin to take off your clothes, the power goes out. Leaving you in complete darkness. Double tapping your phone, you put on your flashlight. 
“Leon?” You call out, crawling out of bed to open your door. 
A few beats later there's a loud thud, which makes you jump. Okay, now you are really scared. Soft hums and deafening white noise fills your ears. You go to his door and knock on it. 
No answer, yet again. Did this asshole fall asleep? Great. 
Making your way towards the living room, you hear yet another noise. “Ha ha.. very funny Leon! I know its you.” 
You hope it's just him pulling a prank. Hope.
And when you finally reach to your destination, you move your phone around to see if anyone's there. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a tall black figure. 
Screaming, you almost slip and fall trying to run back into your room. But before you could make it, their hands grab onto your waist as tight as possible. Pulling you back towards their chest. God damn it, you dropped your phone!
“Please let me go!” You start panicking and sobbing, kicking your feet out in hopes that they drop you. “I don't wanna die! Please…!”
They don't, obviously. And you try to elbow them in the stomach, hearing them groan and tighten their grip around you. Putting one hand over your mouth with ease.
The man drags you back into the living room, throwing you on the couch and straddling your hips. You hear him snort and in turn makes your stomach churn with disgust mixed with fear. Sobbing, you feel weak due to being inebriated and scared. Unable to try and push him off of you. 
“You're so stupid,” he says lowly, his gloved hands pinning your wrists down with one, the other one squishing your cheeks together. “So slutty too.” 
His hand leaves your face and traces the curves of your body. Too bad you can't see his face. Stupid mask. 
“W-What do you want from me?” You squeak out, feeling his hand start to grope at your chest with interest. 
“Your virginity, baby.” He coos, ripping off your skimpy nurse dress. The buttons go flying everywhere. His voice sounds familiar though. 
In the state of shock, he takes the opportunity to pull out his knife and cut through your bra. Watching the way your nipples pebble up and how your tits jiggle. Putting his knife back, he groans. Grabbing a tit and squeezing it before letting it go to slap it. 
“Stop it! Why are you doing this to—” 
Listening to the way you gasp and whimper. He repeats it a couple times to each tit, before he pulls up his mask just enough to see his mouth. 
Leaning down, he forces you into a kiss. His hand lightly holding you down by the neck, his thumb gently squeezing the side. Letting you feel lightheaded so that you still panic at the thought of him killing you. 
“Taste so good, pretty girl.” The man laughs into the kiss before he gets off of you. 
Maneuvering you into the missionary position. Pushing your legs down with his weight as he ties your hands together. 
Once he deems it good enough, he gets up and starts to shuffle things around. And lights a few candles, making you squint, noticing something being propped up. Blinking a few times, you see it's a fucking camera. 
“Please, don't do this to me. Please…” you beg him, watching him make his way back to you. 
His hands sliding up your legs, playing with the stockings you have on. “Cute tights you've got on, slut.” He hums, his thumbs trace the lace. 
Moving up until he reaches your panties. “Hm, cute thong too. I see it's nice and soaked for me. And here you were, screaming and crying for me to stop.” He cuts them off of you, dragging the dull tip of his blade against your skin. Seeing you jump as he gets closer to your chubby cunt. 
“Got nothing to say?” The man puts his knife away, his thumb swiping over your folds. Not rubbing where you want him to rub, just teasing around it. 
“Please…” you whine out, trying to move your hips in a way that makes his thumb press against your clit. 
He chuckles, laying between your thighs, holding them up over his shoulders. “I know, I know. You want your pretty pussy to be played with. Want it to be raped too, huh?” Licking up and down your lips, teasingly dipping his tongue into your hole. 
Groaning, he starts to suck and swirl his tongue around your clit. You moan and squirm under him, feeling his hot tongue against your clit feels soo good. Moving your tied hands down to grab at his head. Needing to hold on to something. 
“Mmh.. right there,” you mewl, grabbing at his head harder. Hearing him slurp and moan into your pussy like he's the one that's getting head. 
“Yeah, right here?” He goads, taking your clit between his teeth gently. Nibbling on it and swirling his tongue all over it. And all thoughts in your head became mush. 
It creeps up on you like a jump scare in a movie. One minute you're fine, next minute you are jumping. Not because you're scared, but because you came so hard your body couldn't help but thrash around. 
“I'm… I'm c-coming!” Loud cries came out of your mouth as your legs shook and planted themselves against his head. The fact a camera is recording your every move and word, slips out of your brain and out into his mouth. 
And he greedily latches his mouth onto your hole. Getting every last drop of your cum before he sits up on his haunches and removes his mask. Maybe it's because you just came, but you aren't so alarmed that it's Leon. 
“What the fuck? Leon?!” Your cunt throbs, feeling your heart sink down straight to your ass. You can't even move properly and that makes him smile. 
“What the fuck, Leon?” He mocks you, leaning down to get all up in your face. “So fucking cute,” he hums, squishing your face together before moving it away from him, “so stupid though. I mean, fuck. You'd get wet and spread your legs for any man who wants to lick you open?” 
Leon tuts, giving your cheek a few taps before he pushes down his black sweats. His cock already hard and flushed red at the tip. Giving it a few slow strokes, his other hand gently roams up your body, giving your boob a feel. 
“Gonna let big brother take your virginity? Let me split open this cute cunt?” Leon watches you intently, tapping the weeping tip on your sensitive bud. “Not gonna fuck you until you beg for it.” Grabbing your left leg and lifting it up against his chest. 
You feel your eyes well up with tears once more. Lifting your head, you watch his heavy cock play with your pussy lips. Blinking them away, you swallow the thickness in your throat. 
“Please.. fuck me,” you mumble out, looking away, towards the camera unknowingly. 
“What was that? Speak up, princess.” Leon guides the tip to your hole, letting it kiss your opening. 
“Oh my fucking god! Just fuck me, Leon!” 
Shaking his head disapprovingly, he leans down, pushing it in slowly. “Big brother's gotta fuck this attitude out of you, hm? Yeah, he's gonna keep this fat cunt nice and full until she's learned her lesson.” His dirty brown hair falls into your face as he moans from the sensation of your cunt around his length. 
Keeping his eyes locked into your face as he sinks deeper into you. “Does it hurt, baby?” 
“Yeah,” you clench down on him, your velvety walls squeezing him just right. “It's too big.” A deep whine in your throat bubbles up. 
“Aww, poor pussy’s gonna go through it, yeah? Too bad big brother's cock wants to punish his little sister's cunt. Mhm…” he presses his lips against yours as he humps your wetness, softly making out with you. His hand goes up your arm and holds your hand in reassurance. 
As you lock tongues, he takes the opportunity to go just a bit harder and faster. Groaning as you flutter and cant your hips into his pelvis. The shaven patch of hair just runs against your clit just right. 
Pulling away, he lets go of your leg and hand, holding onto your hip and pushing your face towards the camera. “I'm recording this, smile for the camera baby,” he says between gritted teeth. 
Moaning, you look directly into the lenses, tightening around him. “Mmhh—fuck—please!” you squirm, moving your arms to block your face. Too embarrassed to look into it while he's fucking you. 
“You camera shy now? So adorable, lil sis,” he grunts, plowing even harder now. Both hands gripping onto the fat of your hips, listening to the squelching from your wetness. “You hear that? Sopping wet for your big brother. Tightened up when you were forced to look into the camera. It's okay baby, nobody else will see this video but me.” His thumb starts to swirl around your clit hard. 
Rubbing it fast, feeling you start to come undone on his dick. The feeling of his leather gloves catches onto your clit deliciously. You feel red and hot all over, your stomach tensing up. And you start screaming, legs going numb, feeling your upper body jerk forward as you cum. “Leon!” 
“Fuck!” Leon rabbits his hips into your squelching heat, roughly fucking you into the couch, “didn't know you'd squirt so easily.” He lets out a mix of a moan and a laugh, giving your pussy a few taps before putting you into a mating press. 
Feeling your lace stockings against his head as he drives into his own orgasm. “All fucked out now, mhm. Yeah, big brother's g’nna feed your pussy his cum. Get you fucking pregnant, oh—” 
He growls as his balls plap against your ass. Filling you up with hot white sticky ropes, stuffing you to the brim. But his hips don't stop fucking it into you. Pressing his cold lips against yours, he slows down. 
Leon huffs and leans back, pulling out his still hard cock soaked with a mixture of your fluids and his. Watching your cunt open and close, oozing out his spend. 
He unties your wrists and rubs up and down your sides. “Let me fuck you again, please lil sis?” Feeling your body hiccup and twitch from overstimulation. 
Rubbing your ruined eye makeup, you weakly nod your head. “Uhuh, want it again.” 
And then he's back all over you. Kissing you and groping your tits. Twisting your nipples and pinching them as his mouth makes its way to your neck. Begining to litter you with marks to insinuate you are taken. 
He switches to the other one, giving it the same love and attention he gave to your right breast. And before he stops, he presses a kiss in the valley of your breasts. 
“Okay, on your stomach now.” He guides you to flip over, spreading your ass to watch your holes wink at him. Gives it a smack, loving the way it moves. 
Leon braces himself on his forearm as he pushes the head back in. Whimpering as he presses his chest against your back, arms caging you into the couch. 
“Good god, you're so tight,” humping into you, he whispers into your ear. His breath hot and his voice low, sending chills down your spine and it warms your belly up. 
“This slutty pussy is mine, alright? Won't let any other man come near you. You're my little sister.” 
“Uhuh, s’all yours big brother,” you feed into his fucked up mindset. Letting him fuck you into his idealization of you. Soft, sweet, and pliant. 
Rocking your hips back, you moan into the cushions. With each thrust, he goes deeper and deeper. Making you arch your back from how deep he is. 
Soft squeaks and punched out groans rise from your throat, “Leon, please,” grabbing ahold of his hand and squeezing it. “Oh, fuck, please.” 
His pace starts to pick up, watching the way your head bobbles from his thrusts. Heavy balls plapping away at your clit, making you cry out. He drives himself harder into your wet hole, striving to make you cum again. 
“Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Soak my cock again, uhuh, c’mon baby,” Leon encourages you, whimpering and growling in your ear. The loud slapping noises echoing throughout the room. The smell of sex and sweat twirling in the air like dust particles.
Hot and heavy breaths against your neck as he clumsily kisses your pulse point. You shivering beneath him, milking his cock for all its worth is what drives him crazy. Pushing on your lower back as he grips a cheek and then slaps it. Over and over again. 
Hearing you crying out for him is enough for him to spill his seed once more. He pulls your hair and makes your face visible to the camera, coaxing you through your final orgasm of the night. Listening to you squeal and call out his name. 
“Good girl. You ready for me to pump this cunt up full with my cum?” Leon starts humping you, barely pulling out as he waits for your answer. 
“Yes, yes, yes!” Eyes rolling into the back of your head as he slams his hips against your ass. 
About a half a dozen of thrusts, he spurts his load deep into your womb. Letting go of your hair, he lazily grinds his seed into your throbbing pussy as much as he can, before all of it comes pooling out. 
“Fuck me, jesus christ. ‘Bout emptied my balls into you. Fuck, I was backed up.” Leon pulls out of you and spreads you open, watching it bubble and pop out. Biting his lip as he pushes it back in with his thumb. 
Pulling up his pants, he grabs a few tissues to clean you up. As well as the couch. Oops, hope your parents don't notice any stains! 
“I'm so full,” you mumble, wincing as you turn on your back. “It's going to be your fault if I can't walk tomorrow.” 
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He snorts, giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead. 
“Oh shit, I've got to stop the recording,” he goes over and shuts it off with a dopey smile on his face. “taking your first time on our first tape together.” 
Groaning, you push him away as he begins to snuggle with you. “God. Gross, get out of here.” 
“C'mon, I'll buy you as many sour patch kids and chocolates as you want. But first, let's go clean up properly.” He convinces you and you allow him to carry you bridal style into the bathroom. 
Of course, with a roll of your eyes with it too. “You better.” Because you wouldn't be his cute baby sis without having some sort of attitude towards him. Even after he fucked your brains out. 
(genuinely forgot where i got the divider for the content warning. augh. I'll find it later.)
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ooppo ¡ 1 year ago
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I freaking hate LED headlights. I should not be BLINDED by the fucking SUN at nighttime and then end up into the opposite fucking lane because douchebag Mc shit nozzle needs to be the biggest and brightest Ford Super Sucker 2045 Big Boy Truck at the Bald White Man Sunglasses Ball
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rowarn ¡ 1 year ago
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okay i'm back to expand on toxic situationship simon vs smitten golden retriever kĂśnig fighting for ur attention!!!
when simon first met you, he had no intention of interacting with you let alone "dating" you. but it just kind of....happened. you had a way of worming your way into his thoughts and his life.
the problem was that he was not build for a relationship. he had problems. a lot of them. he wasn't the type to work on himself, he was the type to find distractions to cope with the mess that was in his head at all times.
the closer you tried to get to him, the further he pulled away. but then when you backed off, he remembered he needed you as a distraction. so he'd rein you back in only for the cycle to continue.
he ignored how much it hurt you, how sometimes your eyes would swim with tears when he gave you the cold shoulder and told you to leave him alone. it wasn't like you understood what was going on — simon refused to open up and tell you that he was just...fucking messy in the head. instead, he just let you think he was some sleazy douchebag who used you for a quick fuck only to toss to the curb when you annoyed him.
part of him wondered (but didn't care bc it benefited him) why you kept coming back after how much he hurt your feelings. but when he wasn't being an intentional jackass to get you to leave him alone for a week or two, he was a great guy. a gentleman. he spoke to you with a soft but not condescending tone and was patient even when you asked stupid questions. when he had you as his distraction, he enjoyed your company and you enjoyed his — only for him to turn around and spew vitriol out of left field.
it was during one of the times he had chased you off that you met kĂśnig. on an elevator of all things. the entire mechanical box shuddered with his weight and you were downright shocked as the hulking mass of him ducked to step in.
when you asked what floor, he spoke with a quiet, almost nervous tone to tell you. as you rode the elevator down, you couldn't help but notice how he sort of shrunk in on himself as if he was trying to take up as little space as possible — as if that was even possible. he was massive. he avoided your gaze in a way that was shy instead of suspicious.
it was kind of...cute.
when you both got off the elevator, the lobby, you took a deep breath and stopped him, asking as confidently as you could if you could have his number. his eyes had widened but he surprisingly didn't say no — jackpot!
tho you couldn't see all of his face — the bottom half of it covered by a mask and his large hood concealing his hair, you felt a bit of an attraction to him.
as you walked out, hastily typing his number into your phone as you parted ways, you realized you may have a thing for masked man since this man — könig, he had said with an accent, and the ass that was simon both wore masks.
in between the time of The Simon Cycle, you went on a couple dates with kĂśnig. he was charming and sweet, if not a little shy. he was clumsy and almost always bumped his head on doorways before shamefully rubbing the spot he bumped with a look of embarrassment in his eyes.
he was excitable and energetic. he loved animals and always pointed out whatever animals he saw while walking with you — people walking dogs, cats in windows, ducks floating on ponds.
the more time you spent with him, the more you forgot about simon.
until his name popped up on your phone one evening when you were spending an evening in with kĂśnig. it was nothing crazy, he wanted to watch his favorite horror movie with you (an ancient black and white).
kĂśnig caught sight of your frown as your phone rang, catching sight of the name 'simon' with a blank picture.
"who is this?" he had asked, tho it wasn't out of jealousy, just pure concern and interest.
you let out a sigh, "i dated him....sort of...? not really..." you had responded, earning a confused look from him.
you explained everything to him, from meeting simon all the through his on and off behavior. by the end kĂśnig looked upset on your behalf, shaking his head.
"if he cannot decide if he wants you, then he should leave you alone," he said softly, smiling under his mask with a crinkle of his eyes, "that way someone who knows that they want you can move in!"
that was one thing you liked about kĂśnig, he was actually open to communicate his thoughts and feelings with you. he told you were pretty, how he liked your laugh, how much he enjoyed your company and was excited to see you again when you both had time.
simon was closed off. he was quiet, mostly listening rather than talking. but he listened well. you remember mentioning that you broke your lamp and had bought a new one but couldn't figure out how to set it up. a week later, after a nice evening spent in bed together, you woke up to find him sitting on your living room floor putting together that lamp for you.
even though könig was...lovely. there was something about simon that was so intoxicating that you couldn't seem to let it go. but also the sex with simon was....spectacular. you never had a man so eager to make you cum until you were incoherent — never had a man who could.
and kĂśnig was....traditional. slow. he wanted to date for a long time before jumping into bed. he wanted to properly court you and go through a whole process. which you respected but...you were impatient. greedy.
it wasn't like kĂśnig was against you seeing simon. he had told you that you were free to do what you wished, but unless you made it official with the other man he was not going to back down from trying to court you.
so when simon called on you again a couple nights later, you answered.
he was glaring when he opened the door for you, motioning for you to enter before shutting and locking the door.
"why didn't you answer?" he grilled. clearly you ignoring his call when you were with kĂśnig annoyed him more than you thought.
you raised an eyebrow before slowly answering, "i was on a date, simon."
that seemed to make him freeze where he stood, eyes narrowing even more into a glare.
"a date?" he spat, "with who? you don't need to go on any dates, you're with me."
that made you roll your eyes so hard it nearly gave you a headache, "a nice guy named kĂśnig. simon, i'm not even sure you like me beyond wanting sex. i want a boyfriend." you huffed, "and clearly you don't want that!"
"oh yeah? then why are you here instead of with your boyfriend?" he hissed the last word in disgust.
"we're not official. he hasn't asked but we've been...seeing each other." you decided simply.
at that, simon jerked his mask over his mouth to kiss you in that heated way that made your legs tremble, "does he fuck you as good as i do? hm?"
that got your attention, a sly smile coming to your lips as he worked you out of your clothes.
he was jealous. this revelation was exhilarating to you. simon, the guy who acted like he couldn't care less about you, was actually jealous that you were seeing another guy!
the sex that night was as phenomenal as usual and more. he spent a good half of it with his head between your thighs, pinning you down with strength alone as he ate you to orgasm after orgasm until your cum was a sticky, stringy mess on his lips and chin.
then he worked you to two more orgasms on his cock, the last one he hadn't even needed to touch your clit before you were creaming around him with a sweet little squeal.
simon had a point to prove. you were his and he was not going to lose you to some asshole. deep down, he knew he didn't deserve you and that he should let the better man have you but he just couldn't. he needed you. he wanted you. he was selfish and greedy.
simon disappeared after that. but for once had actually communicated what was going on — deployment, he said. didn't know how long he would be gone. he had actually gave you a goodbye kiss that left you spinning.
the next time you saw simon, you were on a date with kĂśnig. it was a quaint little bar that kĂśnig said he liked. so there you were, sitting across from him at a booth, nursing a drink and softly talking with one another.
you didn't even know simon was back. he hadn't said anything. when he walked into the bar, his eyes scanned the place like they always did before landing on you.
his gaze lit up as he took a step towards you but quickly halted when he saw you were sitting across from another man. but that didn't stop him for long.
you cursed under your breath, catching kĂśnig's attention before simon was right there at the end of the table, glaring at kĂśnig.
"can we help you...?" kĂśnig asked softly, clearly a little nervous.
"hi...simon..." you sighed softly. kĂśnig straightened up in his seat at that.
"official yet?" he asked you, ignoring your greeting.
you gritted your teeth, casting a glance towards kĂśnig who looked confused.
"no." you answered simply.
with that simon, yanked a chair from a nearby table and sat right at the end of your table. you concealed a groan of despair.
simons glare fixed upon kĂśnig, a challenge clear in his stare alone. he reached forward and grabbed your drink from your hand despite your protest, lifting his mask enough to take a sip, the cocky smirk visible briefly on his lips.
kĂśnig quickly understood what was going on and his own eyes narrowed into a glare. you could practically see the sparks going off between them and buried your face in your hands.
it was going to be....a painfully long night, you feared.
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weemietime ¡ 3 months ago
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I really can't overstate how massively tired I am of western leftist children chanting globalize the Intifada. Truly, it's mind-blowing that anyone takes these Tik Toks seriously. It's always someone who couldn't point out Gaza on a map, doesn't know from what river to what sea, doesn't speak a Middle Eastern language, doesn't practice any Middle Eastern religion.
Hasn't ever been involved in armed conflict, hasn't ever experienced combat first-hand yet somehow they have magically become the authority on what constitutes genocide in an urban warfare scenario where the enemy is asymmetrically embedded into the civilian population.
Positively stunning that these folks with their BLM posters in the background start reading Osama Bin Laden's Letter to America which is some of the most profoundly, virulent antisemitic gibberish, with complete and utter sincerity. Never seen a gun in real life, never been homeless or brutalized by the police. Yet they somehow bestowed upon themselves the qualifications with which to speak about this extraordinarily complex subject.
Sorry, man. I don't give a shit what some 21 year Christianized Californian white person who couldn't say a single sentence in Hebrew or Arabic thinks about fucking Israel and Palestine. Have you ever considered the possibility that you should listen more than you speak? Listen to actual Jews, actual Palestinians. These people, they don't even know any Palestinians, lmao. They couldn't name five Palestinians they personally know off-hand.
And yeah someone will probably reblog this like oh blah blah blah I'm this and that - - what I mean is that even if you can say you've had a lived experience, the vast majority of the people around you who are spewing the same takes as you, who you're reblogging from and platforming - - a majority of these dudes genuinely could not even tell you who the president of Israel is.
Am I gate-keeping a centuries old ethnic and religious conflict steeped in highly nuanced, intricate layers spanning generations? Yeah. Maybe that dude on the college campus with the watermelon hat spouting off how much he loves the literally genocidal Houthis ("based Houthis," even) screaming "Zionazis go back to Europe," isn't the fucking four-star General Douchebag we need right now.
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itneverendshere ¡ 9 days ago
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Hii i love the bitchy!pogue!reader series and i would love to know how they first hooked up again, like what led them to keep going after their first night together. That's all, thx in a advance if you do it, i love your writing
the way i ran to write this lmao, thank you for the request ❤️ let's just say it wasn't planned at alll....it was fate👀
in spite of myself - drabble
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pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe
you swore the first time was the last.
you were simply… curious. you wanted to figure out just how far you could push his buttons without him taking it out on you.
you got your answer. you went to that party with the sole intent of pissing him off, but you hadn’t planned on ending up in his bed—not that you’d ever complain. but that was it.
you’d gotten your taste, of course you weren't expecting to run into him so...soon.
you’d learned to play along for these little trips into kookland. your cheap dress, bought solely to get you through the gates, hugged you a little too close—but that was the point, wasn’t it? you made a show of adjusting the neckline, scanning the room with that perfected boredom.
the moment you spotted him across the room, you nearly snorted, because of course he was here.
rafe, in all his buttoned-up glory. hair slicked back like he’d asked his barber for the "douchebag deluxe," wearing a shirt that probably cost as much as your entire car. he looked so at ease among his kind, you wanted to pat him on the head and give him a treat.
bingo.
he was pretending not to see you, standing there with some stuffy old kook in khakis so aggressively white they probably had a staff meeting dedicated to their upkeep.
but you could spot it: the clench in his jaw, his fingers twitching around his glass.
honestly, it was too easy. you’d barely taken a few steps in his direction, and his grip tightened like he was trying not to crush the glass just at the sight of you.
aww. you hadn’t come here for him, but the opportunity was irresistible, how could you say no to that face?
you took your time, internally giddy at how his stiff he looked the closer you got. you let out a soft, exaggerated sigh as you finally slid up next to him at the bar, taking your time, letting your eyes glide over his shoulders and back down to those broad, broad arms.
god, look at those arms, you thought.
this idiot must curl yachts for fun. absolutely absurd.
his gaze snapped to you, “what the hell are you doing here?” he gritted out, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.
poor thing, always so snappy.
you brought a hand to your chest, going for maximum innocence.
“who, me?” you blinked, leaning in with a soft, honey-dripping sigh. “just networking with the local elite. isn’t that what i’m supposed to do if i want to ‘rise above my station’?” you savored the horror flashing across his face.
rafe looked personally offended, like you’d just announced you were taking up golf, while you let your eyes drop to the line of his shoulders, lingering just a little too long on his chest before dropping.
slowly, slowly.
his face twisted like he was in pain, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, protecting himself from the way you were very clearly undressing him with your eyes.
“cut that shit out,” he ground out, “i know what you’re doing.”
you raised an eyebrow, “doing what?” you shot him a wide-eyed, who, me? look, letting your gaze dip again. “i’m not doing anything.”
his face flushed as he hissed, “you’re doing it right now! act normal for once.”
he pulled away from you as if your pogue germs might rub off on him, but you’d seen that look on his face before.
“honestly, if you didn’t want attention cameron, maybe don’t wear that. kind of a slutty choice, don’t you think?”
his neck flushed deep red as he scowled. “excuse me?”
you shrugged, “just saying. last time, you had a lot to say about my outfit, didn’t you?”
“you’re fucking insane. leave me alone.”
you smirked, leaning closer, “oh, baby, i’ve already got what i wanted from you,” you purred. “unless, of course, you’re offering again?”
his jaw tensed, and he looked away as if even looking at you would ruin his day. but he was still here, wasn’t he?
“don’t flatter yourself. i’m done with you,” he muttered.
you shot him a wicked grin, “flatter myself?” you let out an exaggerated laugh, turning heads nearby. “i’m here on a date.”
rafe’s smirk dropped, and he cast a quick, possessive look around the room before moving his attention back to you.
“a date?” he repeated as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.
you nodded as you pointed toward the back, where your “date”—some poor kook with a summer tan and daddy’s credit card—stood waiting near the hors d’oeuvres table, oblivious.
“did you think i came here just for you?” you tilted your head, letting the words sting. “i don’t do repeats, country club. got what i wanted, remember?”
he looked like he was about to set the place on fire, blue eyes narrowing as he glared at your so-called date. you could sense the gears turning in his head. god, this was just too easy.
“maybe you should run along, hmm?” you said, your voice light and mocking. “can’t imagine what your country club buddies would think, seeing you all worked up over a pogue.” you flashed him a dazzling smile before tossing a wink, then spun on your heel, leaving him there seething.
you could feel his stare burning into your back as you sashayed over to your “date.” this was way too fun.
lunch was mind-numbing, but free, so you were perfectly okay tolerating the “date”—or, as you preferred to call it, the idiot with a wallet—while he droned on about his family’s fleet of yachts or some bullshit about generational wealth. you nodded along, not listening as he bragged. as if you even gave a fuck.
when he finally paused to shove more overpriced pasta into his mouth, you decided you needed a break from the snooze-fest.
“excuse me, i’ll just pop to the ladies’ room,” you murmured, batting your lashes like the good, sweet little pogue he thought he’d bagged for the afternoon. as soon as you were clear of him, you rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.
the second you got into the quiet of the bathroom, you let out a dramatic sigh of relief, shaking your head.
what a fucking bore.
you’d honestly rather be anywhere else—well, except maybe with rafe, since he’d probably drag you back to the ninth circle of pogue-hating hell.
as you were checking your lipstick in the mirror, the door swung open, and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.
“um, excuse you?” you snapped, eyebrows shooting up. “i know you have a thing for following me around, but the ladies’ room? have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”
rafe didn’t answer.
he stalked forward, looking pissed as he backed you up against the sink, boxing you in without so much as a second thought. there was something about the way his forearms flexed when he did that.
ridiculous, he most likely got pumped up just pouring a glass of water.
“what the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.
a laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. oh my god.
you clamped a hand over your mouth, but the sound came anyway, echoing off the fancy-ass tiles. “oh my god, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?”
he leaned in even closer. “you think this is funny?”
“funny?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “it’s hilarious. i’m here for lunch. you know, food? the stuff people eat? he offered, and i like free shit. it’s that simple.”
“you’re doing this just to piss me off,” he accused.
“oh, get over yourself,” you scoffed. “you think i’m obsessed with you or something? i wasn’t even thinking about you until you came barging in here like a lunatic.” you leaned back, giving him a brazen, challenging look. “can you move, by the way? i was enjoying the break.”
his nostrils flared, but you didn’t even care. if he wanted to lose his shit, fine—he was the one who walked in here. you stared him down, totally unfazed, holding his gaze until he broke it.
“careful,” you added, your voice mocking and low. “if i didn’t know better, i’d say you were jealous. because, i gotta be honest, you look like you’re about two seconds away from—”
“shut up,” he growled, his face inches from yours, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “you show up here, flaunting yourself like you don’t remember exactly how last week ended, like you weren’t begging me to—”
“oh please,” you interrupted, ignoring the pleasure that traveled up your spine. “let’s not rewrite history.”
his hand gripped your cheeks, blunt nails pressing in from either side as he pulled you close, capturing your jaw to hold you still. the pressure of the squeeze pulled your pouty lips together, forcing you to look up with wide eyes.
“stop talking."
you tried to smirk around his grip, feeling the bite of his fingers, but your words came out muffled.
“what’s wrong, country club? can’t handle a little conversation?”
“just can’t help yourself, can you?”
you could hardly nod, your eyes gleaming with defiance as you let out a small, mocking hum of agreement.
his hands slid down from your cheeks to cradle your jaw, fingers firm as his mouth pushed against yours. you giggled into the kiss, entirely too pleased with yourself as you tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling until he groaned.
“this is the last time,” his voice was ragged against your lips, but the words sounded half-hearted, he was trying to convince himself.
you smirked, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, tilting your head to test him, see if he’d let you go. instead, his hand was already sliding up your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your lips, holding you right there.
“you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he whispered, breathless. “think you can just look at me like that, say whatever you want…”
“who says i can’t?” you purred, lips brushing against his as you taunted, “if you don't want this, maybe you should go.”
his grip tightened, a curse slipping past his pretty lips, streaked with the deep red of your lipstick, glossy with both your spit.
and fuck, did he look good like that—disheveled, unguarded, his face painted with your lipstick like a silent confession of just how far he’d let himself go with you despite his fucked morals.
rafe let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours as he muttered, “last time, swear to god.”
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satorusugurugurl ¡ 8 months ago
Text
My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,882
Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language, steamy kisses, pillow walls
A/N: Ah yes, trauma dumping before things get super spicy!!! Love the communication, it’s giving this could be a great relationship but it’s complicated. If you want to be included in the tag list, you MUST have your age in your bio PLEASE!!! Thank you!!
Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
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Your breathless words had the world crashing down around Satoru as he stared at your flushed face. His eyes widened as he released you, his own heart hammering in his chest. He had never lost control like that before! But there was this pull in his chest, one that screamed that he needed to protect you from the walking douchebag with black hair away from his; no, what the fuck? Not his girl, his client! 
“Holy fuck, I'm sorry! Shit, uhm, I shouldn't have done that.” Satoru grumbled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”
Your fingers trailed slowly over your lips. They were still tingling. “No, it's okay. I almost blew our cover.” Satoru slowly dragged his hands down his face, his eyes transfixed on you as you spoke. “That was all part of the act. If you didn't do that, it wouldn't have looked as convincing.”  Satoru visibly seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as he sighed.
“Thank fuck.” 
“It was just weird.” 
“I'm sorry?”A white eyebrow cocked up at your words. “Me kissing you was weird? Was it bad?” 
Your face flushed more, the heat spreading across your cheeks before setting over your chest. “Oh god, that came out wrong!” Your hands shot up in defense. “I-I didn't mean like that, Satoru! I just—I haven't kissed anyone in over a year and a half. So I guess I just—yeah, I’m rusty.”
“No,” you jerked your head up, “no, it was nice.” Stunning blue eyes softened, making you swallow hard. He thought it was nice. He is the hottest man on the planet, and ESCORT thought kissing you was nice.
What the fuck was this life?
Snapping out of the trance Satoru had you in; you cleared your throat. “I-I think I’m gonna take a s-shower!” You tossed the extra pillow to the futon on the floor. “Oh, and uhm, that kiss was nice for me too.” You turned, bolting for the bathroom before slamming the door. 
You slowly slid down it, sitting on the ground as you touched your lips. Satoru had such soft lips. It felt really good being kissed like you were wanted. No, no, it was an act! It's all an act. An act that had Satoru pacing the floor as he ran his hand through his hair.
It was only once he heard the shower running that he sat on the ground. What the fuck was that?! His pale skin was almost red as he tugged at white tufts of hair. He never got flustered with clients before! Maybe he was going insane. He must be because his mind keeps replaying the kiss repeatedly. 
The way you stiffened, how your hands gripped him so tight as he kissed you like he had never kissed a client before. Satoru slapped both his cheeks before shaking his head. That breathtaking kiss was nothing more than him doing his job. He was looking out for you as a client. Yeah, that was it. That asshole of a guy was the reason his heart was still racing as he thought of you and your lips.
By some miracle, both of you managed to pull your thoughts away from the kiss. You showered before switching with Satoru. He finally came out ten minutes later, grinning as he witnessed you placing the four extra pillows down the middle of the futon. You fluffed, pushed, and sat back to assess your constriction before repeating the process repeatedly until Satoru barked out a laugh from behind.
“Quit the impressive wall you’ve built.” Looking over your shoulder, you watched Satoru pull a tank top over his head. He slowly pulled it down over chiseled abs that had to have been crafted by a Renaissance artisan. Because there was no way those were real. “I’ve never had a client do that before.”
”Please don’t take it personally.” You whispered under your breath before fluffing another pillow. “It makes me feel a bit better; I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a while.”
“Hey, no worries, whatever makes you feel comfortable, you keep doing it.”
God, why was he so nice? Sure, you paid him the big bucks to pretend to be your boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he had to be so understanding and kind regarding your antics. If anything, you would have assumed your pillow wall would have irritated anyone. You know for a fact that Toji would have hated it.
His kind, understanding patience had you transfixed on his movements as you both settled into bed. You were on your side, facing him as he stared at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. The silence wasn’t at all awkward. It was comforting in a way. You didn’t have to force yourselves to make dreadful small talk; you could enjoy the silence. 
The silence, however, had questions eating away at your insides. “Satoru?” Your voice mingled with chirping crickets and the warm spring breeze outside. You waited until his head turned in your direction before you continued. “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” His face softened as he nodded his head.
”Of course.” 
“Why did you become an escort?”
Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his side so you both faced each other. “I think I’ve answered that question about a million times, so it’s easy.” His arm snaked around one of the pillows between you, hugging it to his chest. “I come from a pretty influential clan. It’s all about power, money, and success with them, and being an only child, they expected a lot from me.” His eyes rolled. “The old geezers kept going about when I would get married and have my own kids. And I didn't want anyone else feeling that way.” A cunning smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, I became an escort to help people.” He snickered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Plus, I get to annoy those controlling old farts. So it’s a win-win for me. But I still handle my family affairs; being an escort is like my second job.” His words were genuine, and they had you smiling.
”That’s actually really sweet.” You shifted, inching just a bit closer to him. “You seem like a genuinely nice guy, doing stuff like this for strangers.” You giggled nervously, shaking your head. “That speaks volumes; I know you’re a nice guy, but I don’t know a thing about you.”
”I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Honestly.”
“Really?”
“Really.” 
“Okay, so do you like sleeping with your clients? Or has sex lost its spark?” You watched him curiously.
He shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Sex is still good when it's with a good partner. But I honestly don't sleep with a majority of my clients. One because, well, let's be honest, they can't afford it. I charge double the price of a single day for sex. So that's ¥240,000.” 
“For sex?!” 
“Yep! So people can't afford it, especially when I do family events like this. But I usually refuse; I don't particularly like sleeping with someone unless I know them. You know?” 
You hummed, and Satoru grinned, inching himself closer. Another one of your constructed pillows shifted out of the way. “I understand. I'm glad you have the right to refuse.” He nodded, blue eyes almost sparkling in the light of the moon flooding the room. “Have you ever been in love?” 
“Puppy love, nothing more than that.” Satoru pursed his lips in thought. “But I'm not opposed to falling in love someday.”
“God,” you groaned, rolling into your back, “look at me, asking you stupid questions like I’m in high school.”
Satoru sat up, laying on his elbow as he looked down at you with a pout. “No! No, I don't mind! I like talking to you.” He was leaning over you, smiling wide, white strands of hair falling in his face.
“I like talking to you too, Satoru.”
Satoru wanted to reach out and move Y/H/C strands out of your face. To see if your skin felt as soft as it looked, to feel your warmth. His hand moved, and just before it touched you, he dropped it, clenching it in the pillow
“Y/N, could I ask you something?” 
“Seeing as I asked you something, it's only fair.” You smiled, and it was so fucking cute Satoru wanted to bury his face in the pillow and kick his feet. Restraining his urge, he cleared his throat. 
“You mentioned your ex in passing. I'm assuming it was that asshole from earlier?” You frowned, nodding. “I don't like to pry or push my clients, but I keep thinking about what you said. What did you mean by ‘why didn't he?’ when I asked why he broke up with you.”
Sitting up, you sighed, eyes slowly shutting. Remembering that night was something you desperately tried to avoid. Satoru, however, had opened up to you, and he was helping you. Plus, he'd already caught a glimpse of Toji, so you might as well bite the bullet and tell him. 
Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. “Toji Zen’in and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first for everything, so of course, I fell hard. We moved in together when we graduated high school into a small apartment in Kyoto. We got engaged at nineteen, and things went downhill.” Your grip tightened around yourself. “To make a painfully long story short, Toji developed a gambling habit, burning through his savings while I was in college.” The sheets shifted as Satoru sat up, turning to watch you with narrowed eyes.
“So, as a novice baker working at my parent's inn at twenty-one, I faced a dilemma. My fiancè was jobless, nonetheless, and behind on our rent.” The inside of your nose began to burn as tears threatened to escape. “I could leave him and focus on me and my career. I'd be losing my home and the supposed love of my life. Or I could use the money I saved up for pastry school to cover the rent we were behind on.” 
Sheets shifted, and a large hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into Satoru’s eyes. “You didn’t.” The tears streaming down your cheeks answered his question. “Y/N—” A sad, broken laugh sounded in your chest. 
“I did. Used everything I saved up to keep us in our apartment for four years.” Nausea churned in your stomach as you laughed a little louder. “After all of that, everything I did, he broke off our engagement. He said he didn't love me, that he couldn't see himself with me five years down the road.” More tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the sheets. “Toji said I was too focused on my career, my dreams, that I was eating too many sweets. That I wasn't as exciting as I used to be.” Satoru’s gaze darkened as you spoke, watching you wipe uselessly at your eyes. “That devastated me, so I packed up, moved to Tokyo, and got pastry training. I haven't been back since.” 
“That fuckin’ dick!” Satoru looked obviously upset over everything coming out of your mouth. “Seriously, you're beautiful, god I hate people like that!” No one should ever be treated the way you have been. To take care of a partner, give up on a dream for someone who you were supposed to marry, to have them pull shit like that. It made Satoru sick to his stomach. 
“Yeah, I'm still trying to get over it. In a way, I guess I'm happy it happened because I feel like I wouldn't have gotten as far in my career as I have. But the scars are still there, along with the trust issues. I can't bring myself to date anyone, let alone have sex.” 
Oh. Satoru perked up at you mentioning sex. You had told him you didn't need sex. The reasoning behind that was like an itch he couldn't scratch. You brought it up, so he might as well take the opportunity to ask while he had that.
“Why is that? The sex part, I mean, you deserve your needs to be taken care of as much as the next person.”
“That my friend is because he broke up with me right after we had sex. Imagine just having an orgasm, and your boyfriend gets off of you and tells you he wants to break up before listing everything wrong with you.”
“Fuckin’ shithead.” Satoru wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest and hugging you as tightly as possible. “I'm so sorry you went through that. He's an asshole for doing that to you.” Satoru’s hand gently stroked your head as your face rested in the crook of his neck. “I hope you recover soon because you deserve to feel loved and happy.” His hand paused as he snickered. “And have mind-blowing sex that makes you forget all about those bullshit excuses he gave you.” 
Gojo Satoru’s words and tone were so genuine you found yourself smiling into his neck. Your arms wrapped around him as you lay down. “I hope so, too. Thank you, Satoru.” 
“No, thank you for sharing that with me; it means a lot.” 
The two of you stayed like that, his hand stroking your hair while you rested on his chest. Your pillow wall lasted thirty minutes and was never constructed again that night or the following one because there was a comfort you and Satoru found in each other.
The two of you had so much fun during the day. Laughing and talking as you would hang around with your family and friends. You told stories and jokes and went to dinners with the wedding party together. He got along well with everyone, and your friends liked him and his looks. At the same time, your parents admired him for helping around the inn, delivering towels to guests, and cleaning up with you. They saw him as a perfect partner, just like you had paid him to do it.
But you were beginning to wonder if it was just his job or just him being Gojo Satoru. The amount of laughing and talking you did in front and behind closed doors didn't feel like he was doing another job. He seemed to be enjoying himself truly. The days seemed to fly by, and it was hard to believe it was Wednesday night. Satoru walked you to the bar your friends were at for the bachelorette party. If it was Wednesday, you only had four days left with him. 
“Are you planning on getting drunk, like super drunk?” Satoru asked, looking at you from over his sunglasses. “Because that's a sight I would pay money to see.”
“Nah, I'll have a few drinks, but I don't like getting hammered drunk.” You gently bumped your shoulder into his side. “You sure you don't want to join us? The girls said they’re okay if you join.”
“Eh, I don't like drinking. I'm a lightweight, and it never appealed to me. If Suguru were here, oh, he'd be down.” You beamed up at him as he mentioned his one and only best friend. “Seriously, he'd love this shit. Being surrounded by girls, drinking with them.” Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously though, he'd love you. You two would get along great. I’ll have to introduce you to him when we get back to Tokyo.” 
His words struck you like a hot iron. He was pulling out his phone and checking the time, oblivious to what he had just said. The man you were paying to be your boyfriend for a week wanted to introduce you to his friend? His best friend! 
It had your heart fluttering as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Satoru hadn't even corrected himself as he peered down at you, returning the warm and happy smile you were positive was tugging at your lips. God, you hadn't been this happy in so long.
“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” 
“Cool! We should set something up. Maybe we could get din—”
The door to the bar flew open, and your friends, all looking intoxicated, spotted you. “There she is! Hurry up, Y/N, you need to catch up!” the bride-to-be slurred as she reached for you. 
“Waaait!! Mina, let her say bye to Satoru!!” another bridesmaid said, smacking her arm. 
“Right! Right, sorry!”
You giggled, looking into Satoru’s cerulean eyes. “I'm being summoned. I should get going.” Gojo snorted, leaning down and kissing you on the lips. “I'll see you later.”
“Uhm, excuse me.” Mina had a disgusted look on her face. “What the fuck was that lame-ass kiss?” Your other friends nodded in agreement. “Satoru, what the fuck? Don't you like Y/N?” 
“Of course, I like my girlfriend Mina.” 
“Then kiss her like you mean it!!” 
You turned, giving Mina a look that could curdle dairy. “Mina, stop.” She flipped you off, her attention never leaving Satoru’s face.
“If I don't get to go to a strip club, I wanna see a steamy kiss!” The other girls whistled and cheered. “I want it steamy! I'm talking smutty romance-level shit!” 
“Mina!” 
“What you both are hot as fuck! Consider it a wedding gift!!”
“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!!” 
Oh great, now your drunken friends were chanting, and bystanders were watching. With a grimace, you turned to the very amused Satoru, who stared down at the drunken girls before his gaze fixed on you.  He shrugged a shoulder as if saying, sure, why not? But he left the decision up to you.
While you were tempted not to make your poor pretend boyfriend a walking spectacle for a group of drunk women. The thought of having to listen to them bitch and moan about you being a party pooper was way worse. So you sighed before turning to face Satoru with a smile. 
“You heard them. If we do this, I can return the dish set we bought.” 
“You don't have to tell me twice.” 
Satoru grabbed you by the throat, pinning you against the wall of the bar. His lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss you'd only seen in movies. His tongue was licking your bottom lip, and you so willingly obliged, opening your mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. Satoru trailed the hand that was around your throat down your curves. His large hand gripped your hips as he growled. Fuck he tasted so good, like cola and vanilla candy. Your tongue moved against his, trying to taste more of him. 
While you tasted like strawberries and chocolate to him, it was like a symphony of tastes between your tongues. One that he didn't want to end, his knee pushed its way between your legs, pressing firmly over your clothes core, making you gasp into his mouth, eyes going wide as the intimate touch. Your moan only made Satoru kiss you harder, desperate to feel the vibrations from the desperate sounds escaping your mouth.
“Whoa! Okay! Okay!” Mina shouted, her wine spilling as she hurried forward. “I said kiss her! Not fuck her in public.” Your best friend playfully swatted at his arm.
When Satoru broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your bottom lips as you both gasped for air. The sheer intensity of the kiss rendered you speechless as he allowed his eyes to trail over your face. Taking in the flush tint of your cheeks, the way your body trembled under his hand, and the subtle way your hips rocked forward against his thigh. It looked like the kiss had as much of an effect on you as it did on him.
He pressed a soft kiss against your slightly swollen lips. “You did ask for a smutty book kiss.” Satoru sighed as he pulled away. “I just delivered what you asked for.” Mina said something along the lines of ‘smutty kiss without the smut, please’ as she headed back into the bar. “Well, she might not have enjoyed it, but at least you seemed like you did.” His teasing tone slowly brought you back to reality.
”Y-Yeah, it was lovely.” You fanned yourself before heading to follow after your friends. “I’ll see you later tonight.” You breathed out, but just before you could make it inside the door, Satoru grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a hug.
”Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you, okay?”
”Okay.”
His lips were against yours again before he released you. “Okay.” He repeated your word back to you before waving you off as he headed back in the direction of the inn.
His kiss, the tone of voice, and the mere conversation of introducing him to his best friend whirled around your mind as you guzzled down a shot of sake, which had to have been the fifth one in the last forty minutes. While the other bridal party members were laughing and talking, you stared at the table. The kiss and Satoru’s words replayed over and over again in your head, like old sitcom reruns. 
Was it normal for an escort to tell a client they wanted to introduce them to their friends? Was he just being friendly or taking pity on you? Then there was that kiss outside of the bar! He didn’t have to put his knee between your legs, but he did! Now your panties were wet, and the more you thought about the kiss, about him, the wetter they seemed to get.
Holy shit, what was wrong with you!? 
Just three days ago, you told the guy you didn’t have sex; you didn’t need it. But the more you got to know him, the more times he kissed you, the more your icy resolve began to melt. Gojo Satoru was lighting a fire within you. One that you were very cautious of because you didn’t want to be burned again.
You got up from the table, swaying as you headed for the bathroom. Was Satoru just being nice? Or did he feel the same way you did? There was some sort of connection between the two of you. One that you might want to explore if he wants to as well. Why else would he talk to you the way that he did?
Entering the bathroom, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your fingers trailed over your still-swollen lip. Toji had never kissed you like that in the past. Staring in the mirror, you groaned. An image of Toji stood behind you, haunting you like he had done for the last year and a half. 
“Ugh, just get the fuck out of my head and let me heal already.” You scolded the image of him in the mirror, flipping it off.
”I’m in your head?”
Your heart stopped, and your hand dropped to your side. Toji’s image smirked as he tilted his head. You were getting ready to ask yourself how drunk you were when Toji moved. His hands landed on the sink, caging you in while the smell of cedarwood engulfed you like a cloud of smoke.
”Toji—!”
“Shut up, we need to talk.”
(TBC)
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sp0o0kylights ¡ 22 days ago
Text
Part one here:: link
"oh i dunno if Im going to finish this" I say, right before the plot ate me. anyway this was too big to post in full to tumblr. If you want the full, completed fic (with bonus Fun Fic Facts tm) it is finished and up on A03 here:: link
TW vomiting, drug use
Eddie is good.
Eddie is kind.
Eddie does not run over Henderson’s bike, laying haphazardly in Harrington’s pristine driveway, even if it would make him feel better. 
He does slam his van into park with enough force to make the brakes squeal, which he decides is an excellent way to announce his appearance to the entire neighborhood. 
It’s a move he’s pulled countless times. Charging in and making a scene meant people forgot that he couldn’t actually fight for shit, and equally, took their attention off whatever their original target was.
Which in this case, was Eddie’s too fucking nice freshman. 
The rage pulsing through him is white hot and all encompassing, and it’ll get him through a lot--but the switchblade he carries ensures everyone’s safety in these little matters. 
It makes him brave.
Braver than he should be really, but Eddie spent the entire drive over here chain smoking out the window while prepping for this little confrontation and the more he’d thought it all over, the madder he got.
That a washed up jock thought he could still take advantage of actual children. 
Nevermind Hellfire, or Henderson ditching, or Sinclaire’s ranting. 
This was about their relationship with Harrington. 
A picture has been building in Eddie’s head. One that’s only gotten clearer after today, and one he will be putting an end to, because he doesn’t believe for a second Harrington has a headache. 
Henderson might always be the smartest person in the room, but he’s dumb as hell socially. Too honest, too blunt, and frankly, too goodhearted. 
That makes him easy to take advantage of. 
Sinclair was worse--the guy was too easy to guilt trip. 
It was a noted issue with his ranger, and apparently, himself, and Eddie could easily see how Harrington could have twisted the idea of some ridiculous life-debt to keep Lucas in his clutches.  
Even Mayfield, Billy Hargrove’s former stepsister, was wrapped up in Harrington enough to have a go at her own friends over him! 
She wasn’t even one of his flock, but Eddie was her neighbor. Saw how her mom was barely home. How she was practically raising herself, head down, doing her best not to ever let people see her cry. 
Yeah.
Wouldn’t exactly be difficult for a guy like Steve Harrington to swoop in and take advantage there. 
Wheeler clearly wasn’t a fan and Eddie can only come up with reason after reason as to why--King Jackass had the poor kid’s entire friend group under some kind of--of sick spell.
Well. 
Eddie was here to break it. 
Even if it meant storming into the King’s castle by himself and calling him out on his shit. 
Nobody fucked with his people. Especially not douchebag, washed up jocks. 
He’s up to Harringotn’s ridiculous double doors in a flash, banging hard on the wood with a closed fist, positively fuming and uncaring of who sees. 
Surprise, surprise, it’s Henderson who opens it.
“Eddie?” He says, blinking up at him like he’s not sure of what he’s seeing.  “What are you--hey!” 
Hey, because Eddie’s pushed past him, storming into the house. 
“This has gone on long enough.” He announces, loud as he ever has been. “Where the hell’s Harrington?”
Henderson, frustratingly, does not weep or throw his hands up in celebration of Eddie’s incoming rescue. 
Which is fine--Eddie hasn’t broken the spell yet.
Unfortunately he is bitching, in that infamously annoying tone of his.
“Dude, shut up, Steve’s pills really only work for like, an hour--” 
“Fantastic, he’ll be clear headed for our little talk.” Eddie tells him, head sweeping left and  right as he looks for his target. He’s been in Casa de Harrington a few times before to deal, but it was always at night.
He can now say with perfect honesty that the place looks worse in the bright light of the day. 
“Was that Eddie?” Sinclair calls, and Eddie orients towards him instantly, storming down the hall. 
It doesn’t take long to find the kid. 
 Lucas is standing in a kitchen larger than Eddie’s entire trailer, a too-large pink apron drowning his frame. 
He turns, revealing the front of the thing has  ‘Whisk Taker’ written on it in syrupy white font. 
(Baking puns. Disgusting.) 
“Are you cooking?” Eddie accuses with a sneer, though his disgust isn’t aimed at the freshmen. 
This is exactly what he was afraid of finding. 
Lucas just stares at him. “Uh--yeah?” 
“What did I say about too many people, Munson?” Mayfrield spits angrily. It takes a second to locate her--the kitchen is enormous and far too white--but eventually Eddie realizes she’s perched up on a counter next to the largest sink he’s ever seen. 
For a second, Eddie thinks that’s just where she’s chosen to sit. Then she moves, and he realizes she’s washing and drying a series of water bottles. 
He never in his life thought he’d witness Maxine Mayfield willingly do someone else's dishes. 
“Someone get me Harrington.” He’s not trying for anything dramatic, but his voice must sound dangerous because all three freshmen stop dead, eyes wide as if he's just spoken in tongues.
He zeroes in on Dustin with a glare. “Now.”
Who huffs, throwing his hands up in the air like Eddie’s the one being unreasonable here. 
“Absolutely not--we just got Steve to sit down. He’s been following me around the house insisting I’m causing more problems than I’m fixing!”
“Because you are.” Steve says, voice dripping with calm condescension as he appears like a wraith in the doorway. “And I know you’re all into the whole dungeon game, Munson, but this is a little dramatic, even for you.”
Eddie whirls to face him, already vibrating with fury. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy who’s treating them like his personal minions. What’s next, Harrington? Gonna make them re-shingle the roof? Paint your house? Wax your car?”
Steve gives him a flat, almost disbelieving stare. “Do you seriously think I had Henderson miss your game just so I could lounge around while he’s doing chores?”
Eddie doesn’t bite, too busy unloading. “Oh we can both see it’s more than that.”
He doesn’t notice the way Steve’s jaw tenses, or how his hand creeps up to the side of his head, rubbing at his temple. 
“Anything else you want done, Harrington? Maybe make ‘em mow the lawn?” Eddie sneers. “Or teach ‘em to plump your pillows just the way you like—”
Steve finally snaps, pushing himself upright. “You know what Munson, you're right,” he says, voice tight with barely-contained frustration. “I’m clearly a terrible person they need to be rescued from so--”  
He cuts himself off with a hiss,  eyes squeezing shut as his hand goes to the side of his head, and spits out his next words like they hurt. 
“You can play the good guy and take them all home.” 
Dustin, with an exasperated sigh, steps between them. “No,” he tells Steve sternly, as if managing an unruly child, before spinning on his heel to say the exact same thing, in the exact same tone--to Eddie. 
(Jackass freshman can’t even appreciate when they’re being actively rescued!) 
“Eddie, I promise that this isn’t what it looks like.” 
For anyone else it would sound like a plea, but Henderosn somehow makes it condescending.
“We can explain, alright?” Dustin says, raising his hands as though coaxing a skittish animal. “Will you let us explain? Please?”
Eddie glowers. 
“You clearly do not, in fact, know what this looks like. Because if you did,” 
Eddie can make himself menacing and he does so now, pulling on every single year of drama and theatrics and lying to cops he’s had, pushing his shoulders back and making his body tall.
“You would know that it looks like a guy who peaked in high school is forcing a bunch of fourteen year olds to do his bidding.” 
He takes an aggressive step towards Steve, boots thunking hard on the floor. “And that isn’t happening on my watch.” 
“Aren’t you like an extra super senior?” Mayfield says, arms crossed over her chest. 
“Irrelevant!” Eddie swats the air in her direction, as if to physically bat away her words. “I’m still in high school and I’m not emotionally blackmailing a bunch of kids into waiting on me hand and foot while I fake a headache!” 
“Oh ew.” Max’s nose scrunches in disgust, a mixture of disbelief and fury warring on her face. “That is not what’s happening here.” 
“Were you even listening earlier?!” Lucas says, like he can’t quite believe Eddie is this dumb. 
(His character will be the next to die, so Eddie swears.) 
“I did.” Eddie points a finger at him, triumphant. “I heard all about how he’s tricked you into thinking you owe him a life-debt!”
“A what?” Harrington’s squinting, like he’s struggling to follow along what is happening. It’s a halfway decent sick act, Eddie will give it to him, but he knows the facade will drop in a moment. 
As soon as the asshole loses his temper and decides to try and throw Eddie out, he’ll switch from the Poor Me act into the usual pompous, rich dick on a rampage persona. 
“How he’s saved you all, convinced you and Henderson that you’re in debt to him.” 
“Could we just---please stop yelling?” Steve says in the background, heel pressing hard against his eyes. 
Then winces like his own voice hurts his head.
“What the hell, Eddie?!” Dustin’s cut across the room, stepping in between the two older teens. “Where did this even come from!?” 
“Guys.” 
“The mouths of babes, Henderson. Which you would know if you witnessed Sinclair’s rant instead of missing out because King Dickhead demanded your presence at his castle!” 
“Guys.” Steve’s voice abruptly takes on a weird tone, and it’s only Mayfield’s eyes popping wide that has Eddie realizing something is wrong--right before Harrington shoots past him, noisily hurling in the sink.
“Gross!” Max shrieks, throwing herself off the counter. 
Harrington aims a shaky middle finger in her direction. 
“I just washed those bottles Steve, I'm not washing them again!” Mayfield rants, but she’s not fooling anyone. Not with the way she’s already edging back towards him, like she’s afraid he might fall over. 
(Worse, like she might try to catch him, as if Harrington’s broad, barbarian-like shoulders wouldn’t flatten her instantly.) 
“Al-’right.” Harrington slurs a moment later, still panting over the sink. “Everyone--out. Now.” 
“Steve--” 
“Nope. Making it worse. Out.” 
He manages to stand and turn, leaning hard against the counter and for the first time since this all started, Eddie looks at him. 
Properly, and not through the lens of righteous fury. 
Harrington’s pale.
The shirt he’s wearing is stained with sweat marks, his sweatpants clearly old and worn for comfort rather than style. 
His hair…
Eddie has never seen Harrington without his infamously perfect hairdo, and the messy, slick waves plastered to his forehead is more of a shock then him vomiting in the sink. 
He’s got his hands pressed hard against his eyes again, and there’s a slight tremble in his fingers that belay he’s likely in a lot more pain than he’s letting on.
In short, Harrington looks like absolute shit, and Eddie, maybe, possibly, the tiniest bit believes he actually has a migraine. 
Well, it was that or he was really committed to the bit… 
The tense silence that has befallen them all is ruined when Harrington makes a ‘hurk.’ noise.
“I’m going to throw up again.” He decides after a moment of contemplation, before whipping back around to the sink and doing just that. 
“Steve’s right.” Mayfield decides suddenly, over all the nasty noises. “We should leave.” 
“I’m almost done cooking!” Sinclair protests, as if Harrington isn’t presently throwing up the contents of his stomach. 
“You’re almost done burning things, you mean.” Max mutters, but her words can’t hide the blatant concern written all over his face. “I don’t think he’s going to keep anything down.” 
“He needs us to finish what we started.” Dustin argues passionately. “You know how bad he gets, he’s not gonna be able to get up in an hour!” 
(A clear exaggeration, because Harrington looks like he’s not gonna make it across the kitchen unassisted.) 
“What I need is for everyone to stop talking so fucking loud.” Harrington moans, before appearing to give up on life entirely. 
He sort of sags against the counter, resting his head against his arms while bent double, as if that would help things. 
It was at this point that Eddie had the most unfortunate realization that he might be the asshole here. 
Because Harrington looks rough--and if he actually does in fact, have a migraine, then Eddie has done nothing but make it worse.
(Very likely the freshmen have as well, given Dustin is incapable of talking in anything other than a loud yell, and the smell of Lucas’s burnt food has permeated the air.
Mayfield seemed to have accomplished a small amount of actual work, at least.
…If Harrington managed to miss throwing up on the water bottles.) 
“Look,” Harrington interrupts with an audible, thick swallow.“You guys did great, and I appreciate the uh, help. I’m fine, I promise, you can all go home. Munson,” 
He doesn’t turn, but his voice does change into something that’s half pleading, half demanding.
“Can we please fight about this tomorrow? Or next week?” 
“No fighting!” Dustin shrieks, which has the effect of making Harrington cringe into the counter--and that is what finally kicks Eddie over.
Bows to the instincts that now want to wrap up Harrington in a blanket over the ones that want to strangle him, (though both are very much at odds in his head with each other.)
“We can put a pin in it.” He says, all the venom dropping out of his voice,  already knowing what’s going to happen next and hating himself for it. 
Even at his absolute worst, Eddie has never been able to resist trying to fix a problem he’s been presented with--or turn down someone who needs help.
Harrington, clearly, needs help. 
“You heard him.” He tells his freshman, then immediately holds up a hand when all three try to protest at once. 
“Ah-ah, inside voices.” He himself uses a harsh whisper, and then has to fight not to laugh aloud when all three abruptly eye him like he’s lost his head.
He probably has.
(Fucking King Steve.
No one who is that much of a douchebag should ever look that pathetic without deserving it, it’s against the Munson doctrine.) 
“Henderson, have you done anything actually useful while you’ve been here? Like, say, getting a warm washcloth?” 
“I--oh.” Dustin’s on the defense instantly, but for once actually listens before he finishes his sentence. “Uh. No.”
“Go do that then.” Eddie instructs, making sure to keep his voice quiet and even. 
“Sinclair, toss out the eggs, then take the garbage out so it’ll stop stinking up the place. Mayfield, see if these windows open. Harrington…” 
He pauses, watching as Harrington tries to gather himself, moving slowly and deliberately like even breathing hurts. His entire appearance is grating Eddie’s nerves—not because he doesn’t care, but because he does, and that’s infuriating. 
“Go lay down, man.” He finishes lamely. 
He expects the freshmen to listen to him. Knows they will, in his heart of hearts, even if they bitch back, because that’s just how things are when he decides to take charge. So few people truly want to, that others are often relieved when he does. 
Steve Harrington is not most people.
If he argues, he could very well tip things out of control again, which means Eddie is likely going to have to force the trio of fourteen year olds out of the house. 
Henderson and Sinclair he can manage but Mayfield…
Thankfully, Steve pushes off the counter with a groan, muttering something under his breath, but slowly making his way toward the couch without any other protest. 
The freshmen exchange glances, all of them looking just as unsure as Eddie feels. Like they’re waiting for instructions now that their default leader is down for the count.
He clears his throat pointedly. 
“Hello? Did I not give you marching orders?” He bats his hands at them. “Go march!” 
Mayfield mutters something that sounds an awful lot like “hypocrite” but thankfully, does as asked. 
“Are you gonna give us a ride home?” Henderson asks as he finally starts moving around--hopefully to get a damn washcloth. 
“You got yourself here, you can get yourself home.” Eddie scoffs back, taking stock of Harrington’s kitchen. 
He eyes the line of pain pills laid out on the counter, quickly noting not one of them is anything that would help with a sneeze let alone a migraine. 
Typical. 
“Why not?” Dustin disappeared down a hallway, but the fact Eddie can still hear him plain as day speaks to his ability to keep quiet. “You have your van, don’t you?” 
“Because I’m not leaving when you three are leaving.” 
It’s an absentminded comment, given his mind is elsewhere. 
Weed may be his bread and butter but he does have a handful of more serious things on offer. 
Of those things, one or two have some fun little unexpected side effects, and if Eddie recalls Rick’s yapping right, one of said things was stopping headaches. 
Said magic little mushrooms might even be in a pocket or two, here, if he remembers right… 
“Wait, you're staying here?” Lucas protests, far too loudly. 
"Ssszzhh!" Eddie hisses, drawing out the sound dramatically, mostly for the sake of cutting off whatever protests were coming his way. 
“No arguing. Your beloved King clearly needs a nap, and that means you’re all off duty. Unless," he adds with a raised eyebrow, "you intend to watch him sleep?"
Dustin looks torn, but mutters a quiet, "No," his eyes shifting sideways like he's weighing the logic.
"Good. Then if you’re all finished…?”
He waits for the nods he knows are coming. 
“Excellent. Now leave." Eddie says, pointing towards the door. 
They hesitate for a second, but then finally begin to shuffle out, the door clicking quietly behind them. 
And just like that, Eddie’s left standing there, watching Steve breathe shallowly on the couch--with a washrag over his eyes.
(At least Dustin managed that.) 
He could leave now. 
Should leave, really. Giving out drugs for free is not exactly a good business move and Steve will no doubt sleep the headache off without it. But Eddie’s feet don't seem to agree with him, rooted in place as his gaze lingers on the sharp line of Steve's jaw, the slight twitch of his brow every time a muscle aches.
Feels the pull, deep in his gut, to provide the relief he knows he can give. 
Before he knows what’s happening, he’s moving, crossing the room toward him.
“Munson?” Harrington squints up at him as he registers his presence, washcloth nudged upwards by shaky fingers. “Why’r you still ‘ere?” 
“Because I’m stupid.” Eddie mutters, right before realizing he actually said that outloud. 
“What?” 
Thank God for Harrington’s headache. 
“You look terrible, man.”  Eddie says slightly louder. “That hair of yours is so flat I think your crown’s gonna fall right off.” 
He’d meant it as a joke--spoke it like one, but it seems to snap Harrington out of his pity party. 
The sigh that blasts out of him is a whole body affair, and gets his feelings across better than his words do. “I get it. You thought this was something else and it wasn’t. Not the first time that’s happened.” 
He turns, cheek scraping against the fabric of his shirt, red rimmed eyes squinting against the light to look at Eddie. 
“You got your laugh in, so you can go.” 
There’s defeat in his voice. Like he’s accepted this might as well have happened. 
(Like he’s just as beaten down as anyone Eddie has ever saved.) 
“I didn’t stick around to laugh.” Eddie keeps his voice soft, and that somehow, makes the next part easier to say.  
“I honestly thought you were messing around with Henderson and Sinclair, and I uh, I’m used to being the only person who gives a shit. When that kind of thing happens.” 
Harrington grimaces. 
“It’s okay.” he mutters, eyes sliding closed once more. “Most people still think I’m an asshole.”
His tone has gone odd again, wrecked and rasping, migraine clearly trumping whatever strong feelings he had on the matter. 
And the stupid thing was, Harrington himself was never really an asshole. 
Sure he went along with the assholes, and he definitely egged them on if not outright participated in some of the lower tier shitty activities, but he wasn’t the guy slamming people into lockers. 
(Eddie, in fact, has a hazy memory of Steve telling off Hagan for doing said locker slamming.) 
It didn’t make him a good guy--he’d had slung too many insults around to get that label--but in the rankings of assholery, his was of the average variety. 
Which means that Eddie cannot logic himself out of his own stupid desire to help.
Even if he really, really wants to.
“Yeah well, even assholes need assistance sometimes, and since I kicked your help out, it’s on to make up for it.” 
“No offense,” Steve slurs tiredly, “but I don’t think you’re any quieter than Dustin.” 
A smile ghosts over Eddie’s face. 
“I live in a tiny ass trailer, Harrington. Trust me,  I know how to be quiet. I simply choose not to be.” He moves, slow and careful, until he’s seated next to the fallen King on his stupidly huge (and very uncomfortable) couch. 
Steve’s eye follows him over, staring up as he white knuckles his sweatpants, washrag sitting crooked on his forehead. 
“I’m not sure I’m not gonna throw up again.” He admits after a moment. 
“And that right there is one of the things I can help with. Provided,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows, “that you don’t mind taking a more recreational route for your recovery?” 
“....are you offering me drugs?” 
“I am indeed.” Eddie confirms with a real smile, plucking the offending baggie out of a pocket. 
“You ever done shrooms, your majesty?” 
Steve huffs a quiet noise that might have been a snort, had he put any effort behind it. 
“How is that going to help?” 
“Be-cauuuuuse,” Eddie draws the words out, still a showman even if he is doing his level best to talk as quietly as possible, “shrooms are what we call a psychedelic, and those are pretty well known among certain circles as the headache healer.” 
Provided one took the medicinal amount and not the down-the-rabbit-hole amount. 
Harrington’s eyes are back open, only this time they’re looking at Eddie’s fingers the same way a dog looks at a nail trimmer: concerned and not entirely unsure it wasn’t going to bite him. 
“I’m not…” He cuts himself off, frowning. 
“You’ve bought plenty of my weed, Harrington. Trust me this isn’t any different.” Eddie tells him. 
Isn’t offended in the slightest--this reaction is pretty typical for people who have only smoked the ganja. 
Even the ones who asked to try for something with a little more ‘umph.’ 
“S’not that.”Steve admits quietly. “I uh. Had a bad trip. While back.” 
“Ah, gunshy.” Eddie says it without a lick of judgment, because Eddie’s been there.
Or rather in the shower, at two am because he accidentally spilled LSD on his hand and promptly tripped balls for 48 hours after.  
 “I’ll hang around a bit, if you like.” He offers casually. “Make sure things don’t go sideways.”
He gets another huff-snort as Harrington’s watery eyes return their attention to him. 
“And what are you going to do if they do go sideways?”
“Put you back together again.”  
Eddie knows his grin is crooked, but can’t help it. He’s thinking about Humpty Dumpty and the King’s Men.  
Somehow he doesn’t see Steve Harrington cracking that easily—at least, not without putting up a good fight—but drugs did worse things to better people. 
“It really helps?” Steve asks, voice quiet. Doubtful.
Eddie presses his hands to his chest. “Scouts honor.”
“You were not a boy scout.” Steve tells him, but he’s struggling to sit up anyway, looking game. 
“Alright, so how do I do this?” He asks, though he’s already halfway down again, propped up on his elbows.
“First, you lay back down, and I’ll brew it into tea,” Eddie explains. 
“Tea?”
“Well, you could eat them straight, but I don’t think they’d taste too great. Not that I wouldn’t mind watching you try.”
Steve scowls. “Sadist.”
“Guilty,” Eddie replies, biting back the urge to sing-song it, keeping his voice down and steady. “Just a heads-up: they kick in fast, but I’ll go light on you—nothing like the ‘fun’ dose for the usual crowd.”
Which is how he ends up back in the kitchen, this time making tea and humming to himself, before offering the final brewed concoction to Harrington.
Who downs it like a shot, because he’s a fucking frat-bro at heart. 
“I didn’t find a teacup for you to do that.” 
Between a full-body shudder and a dramatic grimace, Steve chokes out “Not gonna lie I didn’t think we owned a teacup.” 
“What, do you think I just have them in my van?”
“Honestly? Yeah.” 
Which is kind of hysterical, and something Eddie may be doing--not that he’s telling Harrington that. 
“And now we wait!” He announces instead of rambling about teacups, nearly clapping his hands together before he remembers the migraine Steve is soldiering through with surprising grit. 
Eddie himself would have turned into a whiny mess, so he can’t help but admire the guy’s restraint.
“Waiting to see if I hurl again, you mean?” Steve mutters, flopping backward onto the couch. “That tasted like battery acid.”
“Think it’s coming back up?”
“No clue.”
They sit in silence for a second, then Eddie pokes, “Maybe it’s best if you crash in your room, man. You look like death warmed over, and this couch sucks.” 
An understatement, if there ever was one. The fucking thing didn’t seem to be made for people to actually sit on. 
Reluctantly, Steve pulls himself up, heading toward his room. Eddie tags along, snarky grin covering the way he holds his hands out in case the jock ahead of him slips on the stairs and takes them both out. 
(Unlike Mayfield, Eddie does not pretend Steve doesn’t outclass him weight wise. The man was built like a brickhouse, and he has to fight to keep his eyes up toward Steve’s hair instead of on his ass.) 
Thankfully, he’s saved from all R-rated thoughts by the sheer horror of Harrington’s bedroom. 
“Harrington, I’ve found the source of all your migraines.” Eddie tells him, tone as serious as he’s ever been.
“Ha-ha.” Steve deadpans, stepping into his plaid fucking room. 
“I’m not kidding, I’m getting a headache and I’ve been here less than five seconds.” 
The whole place truly is a nightmare--like someone took one of those plaid hunting jackets and themed an entire room around it. 
Fucking rich people. 
“Trust me, it’s not the wallpaper.” 
“Given how you’re weaving on your feet, I think it’s safe to say I don’t trust you at all.” Eddie tells him, half helping half dragging Steve towards the bed. 
It’s a comfy looking thing and Harrington falls into it gratefully, immediately crawling under the covers. 
“You know where to find me?” Eddie asks him, refusing to think Harrington snuggling up in his bed is something cute. 
“Yeah?”
“Good. Hit me up next time your head gets bad. I’ll make sure to keep some of this,” He shakes the little baggie, “on hand.” 
Steve’s pulled the covers all the way up past his chin, but he moves it down a little to properly cock an eye at Eddie. 
“Dare I ask what you're gonna charge for that?”
“Let’s call it a fair trade for all those times you’ve driven the freshman home from Hellfire.” 
If Steve even recalls this conversation, that is. Eddie hadn’t exactly given him the “fun” kind of dose, but then, he himself has never tested out what dose is needed to cure headaches rather than simply having  fun destroying one's own ego. 
He supposes that’s something he and Harrington both will have to test, between them--because Eddie meant it when he offered the drugs for free.
No one deserves to suffer from the kind of migraine Harrington clearly had. 
“Think you’re good to drop off.” Eddie tells him, after making sure Steve is happily content in his bed. 
Checks his watch to make sure enough time has passed to safely call it, before beginning to attempt his way out of Steve’s god-awful bedroom. 
Which of course, is when Harrington reaches out, looping his fingers around Eddie’s wrist. 
It freezes him in place. 
In a moment that is so utterly selfish and stupid that Eddie will loudly insist it was a hallucination should Harrington ever dare ask about it, he turns his palm and moves so that he’s clasping Steve’s fingers with his own. 
“Thanks. For all this.” Steve whispers, as they hold hands for a moment. 
Eddie squeezes his fingers against the younger man’s before he moves to make his retreat, flashing a peace sign over his shoulder as he goes.  
“Anytime, big boy.” 
Anytime. 
xxx
The thing no one tells you about creating a doctrine, is that at some point or another, someone’s going to hold you to it. 
In Eddie’s case it’s four very pissed off teenagers.
He has a gold medal in mental gymnastics and a silver in denial. Left on his own devices he could easily excuse everything that happened yesterday. 
Reclassify the fallen King as pathetic, and the kids' weird loyalty to him as a holdover from his babysitting days. 
Blame their nosy-ness on them being involved in Harrington’s life, and happily go back to mocking their relationship with renewed vigor because now he’s not going to handwave their behavior as being afraid of Harrington. 
Nope, they clearly and willingly, have attached themselves to the King, which means Eddie gets to make fun of them for life. 
Pity they don’t leave Eddie to his own devices. 
In fact, the little shits hit him up first thing in the morning, early enough that he's’ a little suspicious that the boys slept over at Max’s trailer. 
“We’re not done talking about Steve.” Mayfield tells him and given the determined (Henderson) angry (Sinclair) and put out (Wheeler Jr.) faces glaring at him from over her shoulder, Eddie figures his chances for getting out of this conversation are slim to none.
“Good morning to you too.” He snarks, voice gravel-deep with sleep. “What do you little shits want?”
“I literally just said.” Max rolls her eyes so hard he thinks about commenting that they may stick back there, only to decide that makes him sound too much like a teacher for his liking. 
(Besides if they get stuck, he’ll have an excuse to whack her on the back of her head without getting murdered for it.
…well. 
An attempt at an excuse, anyway.) 
“And who says I have anything I want to talk about?” He fires back, leaning a shoulder against the old metal doorframe. 
Just because he understood what they wanted didn’t mean he was going to make it easy. 
“Would you just let us in?” 
“No.” 
“Eddie.” Dustin whines, and Eddie redirects his frown his way. “Come on.” 
“Well I suppose if you say it that way,” Eddie hums thoughtfully. “No.” 
“Steve’s sick, you asswipe.” Max snaps angrily. 
“I know,” He volleys back, brightly sarcastic. “I saw him yesterday.”
Because it’s Mayfield, she matches him tit for tat, a mimicry of his sarcastic drawl entering her voice. “Good! You get to see him today too.”
And just like that their little ambush makes sense.
(He’s got to find a new way to get the damn kids to fear him, clearly his usual menacingness  just isn’t cutting it anymore.) 
“And why would I do that?” 
He’s done his good deed. He helped Harrington out, and even offered free drugs to help him get his migraines under control. 
Checking up on the guy was overkill.  
“We were gonna do it, but someone let it slip that Steve was sick.” A cutting glance is given to Henderson, who makes a face but otherwise holds his ground. 
“And his mom called everyone else's parents with instructions that we leave him alone until he feels better.”  
“So now if we go over there,” Sinclair finishes for his girlfriend, “we get grounded.” 
Which neatly answers every question that just popped into Eddie’s head. 
The threat makes sense for the boys--Eddie’s met Claudia Henderson and though she has that bubbly, easy to confuse nature of suburbanites everywhere, there was an undercurrent in her eyes of someone who knew more than she was letting on. 
Or perhaps, someone who simply knew what they wanted, and was happy to settle and wait for it. 
 Likewise the Sinclair and Wheeler parental units seem to want to keep in her--and Steve’s, no doubt, given he carts their kids around--good graces. 
Given Mayfield’s mom wasn’t even home last night, her participation in this farce does not make sense and Eddie narrows his eyes at her in warning. 
“I fail to see how this is my problem.” He says instead of directly calling her out.
She knows he knows, and he’s smart enough to figure out how to relay that without saying it directly. 
(An action taken out of respect for surviving a bad home life, and absolutely not because he’s terrified she’ll crawl through his window to enact revenge in the middle of the night.) 
“It’s your problem because you owe him one.” she tells him firmly. “And us.”
Oh no he does not. 
“How so?” He challenges with a snorted laugh. 
“You did kind of storm into his house and yell a lot.” Sinclair points out. He’s doing better at speaking up, Eddie realizes with a twisted sense of pride and dread. 
Not quite so easy to steamroll after his outburst yesterday. 
A part of him hopes that sticks around--Sinclair needs a spine, and not just because Mayfield will keep running circles around him until he grows one. 
The rest of Eddie is pissed off that he decided to get one now, when it directly impacted Eddie’s Saturday morning sleeping plans.  
Leave it to these dickheads to use a good deed against him.
“Look--we can’t make sure he’s okay. You can.” Mayfield steps up to jam a painted fingernail in Eddie’s chest. “He won’t let us do anything that will actually help him. You, he can't stop.” 
He does not take a step backward and thus lose all the cool points he has left in the eyes of the younger Hellfire members, but only because he’s already leaned up against the doorframe. 
He bares his teeth at her in a silent snarl instead. 
“We made it worse.” She admits, voice sharp. “And I don’t know how to make it better, but you seem to be able to, so congrats Munson--you get to go again!” 
Which gets Eddie’s back right up. 
He pushes off the doorframe, ready to tell Mayfield--and all his little dipshits--right off, except this is when Wheeler Jr., of all people, decides to add in his two cents. 
“If you don’t go, no one else will.” He looks off to the side while he says it, arms crossed tight across his chest and spitting the words out like he's admitting to a crime. “Robin’s not coming back until Monday and Nancy's got some stupid thing, so you’re literally the only person who can go.” 
Well just stab him in the heart, why don’t you. 
“What are the chances of you fucking back off to whatever hole you crawled out of if I refuse?” He asks, already knowing that he’s done for.
Accepted his fate, because he knows what it’s like not to have someone to rely on, when you need them the most. 
“Zero.” Sinclair and Henderson chant as one. 
“Well then.” He tells them with the biggest, most put upon sigh he can manage. “Guess you got me in a box here.” 
Mayfield grins at him.
It reminds him vaguely of a shark. 
A bloodthirsty, slightly demonic, mean shark. 
“Good. Go get dressed.”
“Oh I’m doing this right now, am I?” He complains, but he’s already moving to go back into his trailer. 
“We’re not leaving until you do!” Mayfield yells at him.
Eddie slams the door in her face. 
(He’s never adopting freshmen again, as long as he fucking lives.)
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fairlyang ¡ 5 months ago
Text
mystery girl 🕷️
w/c: 2.2K
pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader
tags: 18+ smut. pure filth, desperate to be fucked, amazing friend shows you the way, male glory hole, choosing the thick one, age gap (20’s & 30’s), sucking dick, save a horse ride a cowboy (kinda)
a/n: bro it’s been a month since I had this idea but I was so preoccupied with the other 183749272 of my wips she was left behind🥲 but alas the reverse rookie finally (i was gonna write abt clothes but it flew past me- I was imagining a dress!)
part 1.2 — part 1.3
you were growing tired of the endless swiping on tinder and absolute douchebags you stumbled across, all that just to find someone for a small fling was way too much
at that point you’d have better luck finding someone at a bar but you also weren’t in the mood to converse with someone, especially whilst ovulating when you just needed to pounce on someone, no questions asked
so when complaining to your friends about your hungry need but lack of sex, they told you to go to a nearby sex toy store because they had gloryholes in the back. you were so stunned to even say anything because you couldn’t believe something like that even existed, let alone so close to you
one of them even offered to go with you that same night because you were already squeezing your thighs together in desperation and so you wouldn’t feel so nervous. you said yes of course and that was when she told you they also had an adult theater and you nearly fell off the couch
after a short drive of five minutes tops, you had arrived and you thought maybe you’d look around or something but nope your friend just grabbed your hand and went straight to the back. she waved at the cashier and gave him a smile, “hey al, is it busy tonight?”
al shrugged then nodded and she gave him a thumbs up before dragging you past the door and taking a right turn. “he doesn’t look like he’s meant to work here of all places.” you joke and she laughs
the man had two long braids, a tie dye shirt and what looked to be camo shorts with sandals. just absolutely random but she waved you off
“al’s cool, this is his part time-“ she utters, making you snicker
“fucked him too huh?” you tease making her roll her eyes
“and what about it?” she says playfully earning herself an eye roll
she led you the whole way through now taking a left and entering the first door, loud moans immediately being heard
“these over here are straight men and the others are gay men.” she explains and points to each section
you both walk over to the left side to where the straight guys would be and it was better quality than expected
instead of it being literal holes on walls it had a fancier getup, the men’s torsos were sticking out of a hole while laying down on some sort of table and their upper half was hidden behind black fabric. they all had pictures above their hole with a picture of their faces and their ages
“this is insane.” you mutter and she excitedly nods
“go have your pick! and don’t be afraid to be picky, choose what you need girl.” she says making you roll your eyes
she says that when there’s only two available guys anyway. There were three other guys with girls on top of them, riding away and letting out the craziest of moans
so you walk directly to the first available guy and look at his picture. a cute white guy, looked mature, thirty three years old and his name was Peter
he must’ve sensed your presence because his cock twitched. he was very long but not so thick
you preferred the girth so you went on to the one next to him and your eyes nearly fell out of their sockets
this one was fucking long and thick. so fucking thick you thought it’d be impossible to fit inside you
but anything was possible
so you looked at his picture and were pleasantly surprised to find a latino, not only that but a fine one. he was thirty four years old and his name was Miguel
how the hell both of these man were in here is beyond you but you’re so feeling so fucking lucky because Miguel’s cock was exactly what you’ve been needing
you just want to be filled to the absolute brim, feel a cock stretch you out as if it were the first time
so you climbed onto the table and Miguel’s cock also twitched out of excitement. meanwhile your friend jumped on top of Peter and was already positioning his cock to her entrance
crazy girl
you were wet but you felt like you had to be fucking drenched to be able to take him all so you scoot down his body and taking a hold of his cock. you kitten licked the tip causing for precum to leak immediately, poor guy must’ve been waiting a while..
you decide to not waste anymore time, for both your sakes and spit on it, letting it dribble down his length before stroking him with both hands. you were nearly drooling just looking at it but you couldn’t really be blamed
miguel was already moaning mainly because the girls were looking past him because he was just too thick and they couldn’t handle it. so he had to give props to his mystery girl that was hopefully going to give him a proper shot
he was already cheered up just by you knowing what you were doing. if this was all he was gonna get he’d be content with it
but you didn’t come here to please a man, that’s never top priority, top priority is taking care of yourself. though hearing his moans were just slightly changing your mind on that, you were already starting to drip through your panties
maybe it was the fact that you were only stroking him and he was moaning for you just from that, or maybe because he was a hot older man and you never had the confidence to go for men like him
definitely the latter
you figured it was enough teasing and started to take him in your mouth, or at least tried to because it was much more than you were expecting
for now you were able to take a little bit past his tip, which wasn’t too bad considering you hadn’t sucked a dick this thick and his groans weren’t exactly saying you’re doing a bad job so you continued
you started to stroke him as you tried to take more of him then pull back and going back for more. this only had him trying his hardest to not push his hips up
you bobbed your head back and forth, now able to take half of it which was for sure an accomplishment. you only prayed your pussy could do the same
he continued with his melody of grunts and groans, then some praises came along
“fuck just like that baby.”
“taking this cock so well.”
“such a good fucking girl.”
as soon as the first praise left his lips you started going faster, hearing the other two only left you moaning against him
he groaned and subconsciously lifted his hips up making you take nearly all of it
you closed your eyes and started to go lower, stroking the last bit that you couldn’t fit
you swirled your tongue against his underside as you bopped your head up and down faster resulting in him moaning even louder
at this point you were absolutely drenched and you could feel him twitch in your mouth so you fully pulled away
he thought that was it so he was preparing himself for the worst while you sat up and climbed on top of his lap, hovering over his dick as you pulled your dress up and slid your panties to the side
you lowered yourself down, grabbing his dick, and positioning it to your entrance
first you swirled the tip against your folds, just so your wetness can act as lube because you’ll need it
you then decided to grind against the entire length and it felt so amazing
you moaned and shivered as he brought a hand out just to put it on your hip, lightly squeezing the skin
finally it was time and you prayed for the best
you straightened his cock and positioned it to your entrance again, except this time you slowly were moving down. his tip alone was a painful stretch so you just stayed there biting your lip until the pain went away
it took a few more minutes before you moved down the tiniest bit. he was so much thicker than you antipciated. you thought your toys would’ve prepared you but they were to no luck helpful
you took a deep breath then let it out before going down a little more, probably not even at the half way point yet
it was starting to feel better so you brought yourself up then went down to where you could take it. you sighed after doing it again, now feeling a mix of pain and pleasure but mostly ignoring the pain
you took a good two inches when you finally felt comfortable so you went even lower, finally hitting the hallway point. “you’re doing so good baby.” he murmured, fighting back the urge to cum right then and there
you clenched against him making you both moan which was a good sign
you decided enough was enough and slammed down, whimpers escaping your lips as Miguel moaned in bliss
his hand rubbed your thigh softly as you slowly come up then slam down again. “Fuck-!“
it was now fully pleasure and you could feel him fill you entirely. his cock felt perfect inside you and you should’ve complained about your sex life sooner
you lower your body down, arching your back as you move your ass up and down. you closed your eyes and moaned every time you went all the way down
his tip was nearly grazing your sweet spot and if you went any faster both of you would be goners
but for now you took your time. it was so sensual as well as hot. Miguel had his arms behind his head just wishing he could see you. he also wanted to kiss you as he pounded into you so he could feel you moan in his mouth but it was a glory hole for a reason
you finally started moving a bit faster now, your ass smacking against his thighs each time you came down. the sounds were driving him insane
you sounded so wet and your voice was so angelic. every noise you made had him wanting to hear more of you
so he did the logical thing to be able to do that and thrusted his hips against you, taking you by surprise. he wanted to be selfish, he’s been dying to cum and you’re the first girl who dared to try his cock out today so he started to thrust his hips upwards.
he was now pounding into you as you held your position because there was no point in moving now. he groaned as he started going faster and harder, you just felt so fucking good he couldn’t help himself
he needed to have all of you so bad
he was going at such a brutal pace you thought he was going to fully come out of the hole just to fuck you properly but he didn’t
instead he took his other hand out, stopping for a solid second just to bring your ass down and wrapping his arms around you. he held on tightly and before you could object, he went back to pounding into you, no point in waiting so he went at the exact same pace again
you moaned out as he fucked you harder, the sounds from your corner being the loudest out of the whole room but you didn’t care. the sexiest man you’ve ever laid your eyes on was fucking you as if you were his to take and you weren’t going to stop him
you’ve been so desperate for a hookup like this you should’ve known to look for the older men over guys your age. of fucking course a thirty year old was gonna know what to do over someone in their twenties
you were already thinking far ahead to think any time you’re horny to just drop by since it was so close and just let him fuck you however he wants in the adult theater
but the current moment was perfect too
he was mumbling dirty nothings as he mercilessly pounded into you, feeling that familiar feeling in his abdomen already. it wasn’t his fault you had such a tight pussy that must’ve been made just for him. like a missing puzzle piece
he was a groaning mess and you could just tell that you were creaming on his dick because of how wet it sounded. “fuck please don’t stop-“
his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his grip on you loosened. he changed to now doing deeper thrusts which was a perfect switch because he was hitting your g spot with every thrust and you were feeling so close to your orgasm
you tightened around him which only made him go even faster as you both moaned for one another. that did it for him and he came inside you. you whimpered and brought your body back up just for your orgasm to hit you hard and lift your hips up as he filled you completely
your heart was racing, your body was shaking, and you just closed your eyes to calm yourself down while still having him inside you
he pumped you full and you couldn’t even be bothered to complain or fight him on it. it’s what you fucking craved and deserved so maybe you gotta thank him instead
next part
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