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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do poly!marauders with a clumsy s/o? Thank you!

Thanks for requesting love!

cw: blood

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

“I’m going to purchase one of those leashes for unruly toddlers,” James says, thick lashes nearly touching as he squints down at your hand. “And I’m going to keep it around my wrist at all times.”

“It won’t be as good at catching me as you are,” you point out. You do your best not to wince as he picks a piece of gravel out of your palm, but his eyes flick up to you anyway, an apology in them.

“No, but at least I’ll be able to keep you close.”

You laugh a little. “I trip whether you’re nearby or not.”

“Beg to differ.” He sounds bitter, but James has always had a terrible poker face and the uptilt of his lips betrays him. He spreads ointment over the cuts on your hand before bandaging it. “If I was with you, this would’ve never happened. Guaranteed.”

“Yes, it’s all your fault.” Remus comes in from the kitchen, maneuvering carefully so as not to get the hot mug he’s carrying anywhere near James. He sets it next to your thigh on the bathroom counter. “Jamie,” his tone is chiding, a bit tired, “why have you started with her hands? She’s bleeding down to her ankles.”

“It’s nearly dried anyway,” you say, looking down at your shredded knees. Remus feels too bad for you to give you one of his worse reprimanding looks, but his eyes convey tremendous exasperation nonetheless.

“Because I knew she’d need her hands to hold her tea,” James replies, bumping Remus’ hip lightly with his. “Ease up, I’ve got it. Did you make yourself some tea too?”

Remus glances towards the kitchen the way an old captain might gaze at the sea. “I thought about it…”

“Do that,” James says. He finishes up with your other hand, bandaging it carefully. “Actually, would you mind just putting a kettle on? I’ll have a cup, and Sirius might want one too.”

You frown at that, but neither of your boyfriends see, Remus going into the kitchen with renewed purpose and James smiling slightly to himself as he finishes wrapping your hand.

“One of these days,” he whispers, backing up a bit so he can work on your knees, “you’re going to have to sit on the couch and feed Remus chocolates for all you put his heart through. We’ll be lucky if the next time you fall he doesn’t have an attack.”

“What’s Sirius coming here for?” you ask.

“Well, he does live here.”

You give him a look, but he doesn’t glance up from cleaning the blood off your shin. “He’s supposed to be shopping with Marlene.” Accusation and betrayal lines your words. “You texted him?”

James looks up at you now, sympathetic if not quite sorry. “You know I had to. He would’ve murdered me if he’d come home and seen you all bandaged up and nobody had told him.”

“You could take him,” you grumble.

He laughs. “I don’t know, sweetheart. He fights dirty.”

You laugh too, though it’s more a humorous huff. “He can’t come home every time I trip,” you say, twisting the string of your tea bag around your index finger. “It’s not like I need to go to the hospital.”

James works a larger piece of gravel out of your knee, eyebrows knit together by compassion. “He worries,” he says simply. “He wants to come home every time you hurt yourself, though if you recall, I didn’t tell anyone about you banging your head on the microwave door yesterday, or about when you fell on the stairs last week.” He looks up, grinning when you shrink, abashed. “But when you fall this bad, it’s a bit harder to hide. Sorry, lovie.”

It’s a double apology, for ratting you out and for the sting of the ointment he smears over your knee. You hiss through your teeth. “Fair enough,” you say. James smooths a large band-aid over the series of shallow cuts, kissing the skin just above it for good measure. “I just don’t like to worry him. Any of you, if I can help it.”

He shrugs. “I don’t think you can,” he says. You get what he means. Remus is a worrier, Sirius even more so, protective by nature and nurture. And each of your boyfriends cares about you too much to ignore how often you hurt yourself, even if you really think they should be desensitized to it and annoyed with you by now. “But I’m trying to get you cleaned up before he sees you, so hopefully that’ll help.”

Like James has just issued a summons, the rumble of Sirius’ bike comes from outside. James grimaces as it slows to a stop.

“I hate that fucking thing,” Remus growls from the kitchen.

James shoots a sad smile in that direction. You think that you might not single-handedly cause Remus’ heart attack if Sirius gets there first.

“Where is she?” Sirius calls as soon as he comes in the door. “I assume there’s a blood trail for me to follow?”

James chuckles. “I told you it wasn’t that grim,” he shouts down the hall, and a second later there are heavy footsteps coming toward you. You brace yourself.

“Fucking hell.” He halts just in the threshold of the bathroom, then seems to change his mind, striding over to you. His eyes are glued to the bloody mess of your uncovered knee. “Darling, what did you do?”

You knew what to expect from him, and still your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to. “I missed the curb going out to get the mail,” you say.

Sirius’ eyes lift to yours, widening. “You fell into the road?” You nod. “You could’ve been hit by a car!”

“There weren’t any cars.” There are almost never any cars on your street, and he knows that.

“You’re lucky there weren’t,” he says anyway, holding his hand out. You place one of yours in it obediently, palm up. There’s a bit of blood marring the beige bandage, and Sirius makes a terribly soft pitying sound. “Your poor, lovely hands.” He runs a careful finger over the covering. “How bad was it?” he asks James.

“I told you, not horrific,” James says, finishing with getting the debris out of your knee and twisting the cap off the ointment. He looks up to be sure you’re ready before he starts smoothing it on.

“Stitches?”

“Oh, tons. She’s held together more by thread than skin at this point.”

You roll your eyes, but Sirius coos, “My poor sweetheart,” and grabs hold of your face to plant a kiss on your lips. You must look as pleasantly surprised as you feel, because he does it again, bending forward to avoid bumping his hip into your knee.

His thumb sweeps across your cheek as he pulls away, brows furrowed. “Does it hurt?” he asks, and now the mirth has disappeared from his tone. You don’t know how Sirius does that, going from teasing to not in a blink.

“Not so badly,” you tell him.

He hums, stroking your face again. “Would you tell me if it did?”

You feel your lips twitch, and Sirius’ eyes narrow like he knows your answer before you’ve spoken. “Probably not,” you admit, “but it really doesn’t.”

He stares you down for a minute, murky eyes scanning yours for traces of untruth, his dark brows lowered. You reach up to slot a piece of hair behind his ear, and he cracks, mouth kicking up at the corner.

“Alright, drink your tea before it gets cold.”

“I’ve actually made tea for everyone,” Remus calls, not from the kitchen this time but from the living room. “And snacks, so please come eat them.”

James grins, touch moving up the back of your knee to your thigh as he stands. “Excellent,” he says eagerly. “You’re all fixed up, m’love. Let’s go take care of Rem now.”

You start to hop down from the counter, but Sirius says, “Wait, wait!” and grabs you by the hips, keeping you in place. “Can you walk?”

You nod, because duh, your legs are scraped, not broken, but Sirius looks to James, the both of them frowning thoughtfully.

“Best not to risk reopening them,” James decides, scooping you up off the counter.

You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Thank you,” you say, rather than this is deeply unnecessary and you’re being ridiculous. James seems to hear both anyway, planting a sloppy, smiley kiss on your cheek. Sirius, satisfied, follows you down the hall. “I didn’t mean to make you my manservant, I swear.”

“Happy to do it,” he says. “Now drink your tea, it’ll make Rem feel better.”

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emmyrosee · 6 months

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“Don’t look at me like that. Freak.”

Kiyoomi’s words have you snapping out of your daze of, indeed, staring at him, blinking lazily and smiling dopily at him. His fingers continue to thumb through his book, just as he has been for as long as you’ve been staring at him.

Usually, Kiyoomi won’t say anything in regards to your staring, normally opting to be quiet and merely continue with his day, but today, he knows something feels different.

You have to get closer to him.

Your perch on the couch has you strangely close enough, close enough you smell his curl cream and the natural scent his body has due to not applying cologne or lotion.

He smells so good. You have to get closer.

“Stop staring at me.”

“I can’t. It’s against the rules.”

“Well my rules are: I’m gonna beat you up if you don’t at least blink while you stare at me. Feel those damn eyes fixated on mine.”

You laugh but say nothing, merely scooting closer.

“I love you,” you purr, kissing his cheek. He hums contently before gently grabbing your chin to keep you close, and he turns his head away from his book to kiss you properly.

Even sitting, you’re weakened from the affection, elbow buckling under the weight of holding you up being tampered with by the affection.

You have. To. Get. Closer.

“Kiyoomi?”

“Yeah babe?”

“You know how sometimes I really like skin to skin?”

Kiyoomi flicks his eyes up at the sky, both in thought and in preparation for your question, “yes. Yes I do.”

“I love you,” you assure once more.

Before he can question, it’s too late. You’re getting closer.

“What’re you do- AYE! HEY! NO-“

It’s too late. With a smile, you force yourself under his shirt, his hands failing (and, to be honest, not trying very hard) to still you and get you back out of the shirt. He squirms slightly under the feeling of you jamming yourself under the fabric with him, trying to shove you out because yeah, he loves you, but what in the sam hell are you doing?

Threads in his shirt start popping, and he screams in agony once again, “I LIKE THIS SHIRT, NO!”

As if he’s truly trying to make you stop.

He could easily stop you, he’s done it before, he’s not fooling you any time soon.

“Just- hold on, let me-“ you show no signs of stopping your squirming.

“It ticKLES FUCK OFF!” He snarls, and he sends you a glare of rage once your head pops through the head hole with him.

Basically nose to nose with him, you smile and nudge him softly, “hi you.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, he lets out a hot breath of fury through his nose.

“Listen,” he whispers yells, and you let out a string of giggles. “No, you listen to me-“

“Okay.”

“This has got to stop- between you stealing them and you destroying them, I’m running out of shirts!”

“So don’t wear any,” you offer, and his face drops in annoyance and a roll of his eyes, and you laugh harder despite being pinned against him.

“No,” he snarls again, voices still pitched in a whisper, “no, you can’t keep doing this, just bite me for fucks sake! There’s no need for this!”

“Okay,” You say, and before he can even take his words back, you sink your teeth against his nose, biting softly while still giggling at his expense. He blinks unamused at you, clearly still in the act that he’s mad at you. “Sounds like you really just want me to bite you, Kiyoomi. Should I accept the invite?”

“IF IT KEEPS YOU FROM GRABBING MY TEETH, SNIFFING UNDER MY ARMS, AND CRAWLING IN MY SHIRTS, YES!” He barks, and you wheeze before thunking your head against him.

“You and I both know that those are not going to stop,” you assure.

He sighs, “yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” you say, giving him a small kiss for compensation. Then, you look around, your neck starting to hurt from being crinkled, “so… how do we get out of this?”

“YOU PUT US IN THIS!”

“Yeah but I have to pee.” You smack on a pair of puppy eyes and he rolls his, “unless… you don’t mind-“

“I’d rather rip this shirt to shreds and have you piss on it, than carry you to the bathroom and pee attached to you. I don’t love you that much.”

Liar.

Regardless, he pulls against you to try and pop the threads, back arching to force you up. You giggle and whine as you plant your hands on his chest, trying to push against him. The shirt stretches quite a bit under your forces, and with another grunt of effort, Kiyoomi reaches around you to grip the collar in his massive hands, and with one final shred, the shirt comes apart; it frees you both from the prison of fabric, and you let out a breath at the feeling of being released.

Now that there’s shreds of shirt in his hands, mouth releasing pants of adrenaline out, you do feel a little bad for it; with a small frown, you lean back next to him as he gathers the small bits of fabric, and you him for his attention. He glared at you from under his lashes.

“Thank you for getting us out,” you plant a compensatory kiss on his lips, initially to be used as a peck, but your heart beats wildly as one hand come up to cradle your head and keep you there as a proper kiss.

“I’ll always get you out,” he says simply against your lips.

When he doesn’t let go of your head though, your heart beats a little bit faster.

“Kiyoomi?”

“What?” The intensity of his kisses grow. You start to giggle against his lips, your hands planting on his shoulders to try and force some distance. “Why’re you freaking out?”

“Let me go!” Your words are smushed against his lips. He chuckles and pushes you impossibly closer, the entirety of his weight flipping on you and keeping you pinned. You squeal and try to fight more, only resulting in his kisses being planted down your neck and chin, making you erupt into more laughter.

“Thought you wanted to be close to me.”

“Too close!” You titter.

You feel him smirk against your skin.

“No such thing.”

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werecreature-addicted · 6 months

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Dressing up in sexy lingerie to surprise your werewolf boyfriend for your anniversary.

Your poor werewolf lover has been so stressed lately. There's just so much to do that by the end of the day he just collapses in your shared bed, too exhausted for anything else. it's been a week since you two have been intimate and it's starting to get to you.

He won't even accept a blowjob, which is how you know it's bad. So you decide to tease him a little bit, you're desperate for anything, you'll just have to push his buttons a little to get what you need.

Your werewolf boyfriend pads through the door, half asleep, and almost misses the trail of rose petals leading from the front door to your bedroom. Almost.

He doesn't know what to do with himself. He's never been romanced like this before. it's kinda sweet. He slowly follows the trail until he enters your bedroom. you're in just a towel with your back to him looking over two sets of lingerie, seemingly trying to choose between them.

"what's all this for?" he asks, you nearly jump out of your own skin and scream. Of course, the one day you try and plan a surprise for him is the day he comes home early. You shove him out of the room and tell him to wait until you're ready.

"I like the red one!" he calls back laughing as he goes and sits on the couch- waiting for his surprise like a good boy. You come out a few minutes later, flustered, and in the red lingerie he'd said he liked.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you huff. His eyes rake over your body, taking you in. He has half a mind to rip off the flimsy lace to see your pretty body you insisted on hiding behind clothes.

"I am surprised, very surprised," he assures you.

"well... do you uhm- like it?" you ask awkwardly, gesturing between the rose petals on the ground and your own body.

"Why don't you come here and sit on my lap to see how much I like it," he growls. you do as he asks, sitting down on top of him, and instantly you feel the hard bulge, pressing against your thigh. He rests his hands on your hips slowly grinding against you.

"you wanna ride me, pretty thing?" he asks, already pulling your panties to the side, and sliding a finger against your wet cunt.

"N-No." you whimper out.

"No?" he asks, surprised. He was pretty sure that you wouldn't have put on this sexy outfit for him if you didn't want to get fucked.

"I want you to pin me down and fuck me until I start crying," you explain.

"Are you sure? I don't like making you cry," he tells you.

"come on baby you don't have to hold back, I want you to fuck me like a stress toy," you tell him, rocking your hips against his waiting hand.

he growls a low warning sound and pounces, knocking you both to the floor. He flips you onto all fours pressing your shoulders down to the ground while hiking your hips up. He takes both your arms in one hand and holds them behind your back, so you have no hope of getting up on your own.

"w-wait we aren't even going to the bedroom?" you asked. There's a ripping sound as he shreds your panties off of you

"-Said you wanted me to be nasty when I fucked you so I'm going to do that, going to make my pretty little bitch cry just like you wanted pretty thing. Toys don't get let on the bed," he snarls against your ear, his breath warm as he breathes down your neck.

His teeth sink into the side of your neck making you cry out, he pushes his thick fingers inside of you, fucking you open so he can fit his fat wolf cock inside of you.

"I'm going to fuck you until you black out. Gonna pump this sweet pussy with cum until it's leaking out of you," he promises. A thrill runs through your body as his threats sink in. Good. you think. you're getting exactly what you wanted.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #werewolf #monster boyfriend #werewolf x reader #werewolf boyfriend #teratophillia #werewolves

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colonelarr0w · 3 months

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Geto, Gojo, and Choso with an s/o going out for a girls night with her friends but her dress is VERRRRY short. :))

A/N : STOP BECAUSE I WAS KICKING MY FEET AND TWIRLING MY HAIR THE ENTIRE TIME THAT I WAS WRITING THIS.

Includes - Suguru Geto, Satoru Gojo, Choso Kamo

Warning(s) - suggestive content, foul language, Gojo is a WHORE (what else is new honestly)

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“Fuck me!”

Suguru’s ears perk at the sound of your frustrated voice, head tilting curiously as he glances up from his phone. He stands from his position on the couch, slowly entering your shared bedroom and watching as you pull down the back of your dress.

Judging by your irritated tone and stiffened body language, it wasn’t the first or the second time that you had tugged your dress down.

“Everything okay in here baby?” Suguru inquires from the door, forcing his eyes to meet your own as opposed to wandering down. The last thing that he wanted was to be on the receiving end of your wrath — the last time that had happened, he had been placed on a week long sex ban.

To say he barely survived that would be the understatement of the century.

“Just this stupid dress,” you bite out angrily, slapping your hands against your thighs in defeat. You had accidentally ordered the dress a size too small, but it hadn’t looked that short when you laid it out over your bed.

But now that you were wearing it, it continued to ride up with every single one of your movements, nearly exposing your entire backside.

The fact that you hadn’t ripped the dress to shreds with your bare hands was a miracle in it of itself.

Suguru finally allows his eyes to rake up and down your figure, admiring the way that the dress hugs your curves while still remaining elegant. The straps are loose over your shoulders, intentionally of course and the dress’ corset only makes you look that much better.

But you don’t see it that way, instead, you see the dress as an inconvenience that is only making you more and more late for your girls’ night with Shoko and Utahime.

In the reflection of the mirror, you can see Suguru watching you hungrily, a look that goes directly to your core. You can feel your face warming underneath his gaze, and you know that silently, he’s trying to make you even more late than you already were.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whine, turning to look at Suguru. He crosses his arms, still leaning against the doorframe and smirking at you. He doesn’t fail to notice the way your thighs rub against one another, no doubt trying to provide yourself with the tiniest bit of friction.

“Oh? And why’s that?” he teases you, raising an eyebrow. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes, knowing the action would only dig you into a deeper hole.

“You’re going to make me late,” you point out, turning back to the full-body mirror. You grab the bottoms of your dress again, tugging downward sharply and hoping that it would stay. But of course, the moment that you straighten your back, the dress rides up.

This time however, Suguru doesn’t bite his tongue.

“I’m not going to make you late, but that dress sure will,” Suguru steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you. His arms wrap loosely around your waist, tugging your back against his chest whilst his chin hooks over your shoulder.

You let out a sigh, body relaxing against Suguru’s while one of his hands begins to slowly drift lower, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “Suguru-“

“Hmm?” he hums, raising an eyebrow at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, biting back the desperate whimper that claws at the base of your throat. He smiles at the look on your face, keeping his fingers right against the inside of your thigh.

“I’m definitely going to be late now,” you sigh, leaning your head back so that it hits against Suguru’s shoulder. He grins in victory, then hooking his arms beneath you and swiftly lifting you from the ground.

“That you are,” he agrees, all the while you giggle at your boyfriend’s antics.

“Babe, Shoko texted you again. Do you want me to answer for you—?” Satoru cuts himself off as he enters your bedroom, standing slack-jawed in the doorframe as you continue to get ready, having not heard your boyfriend enter.

You smooth your hands over your dress, turning your body in a circle to admire yourself in your room’s full-body mirror. An approving smile curls the corner of your lips upward. You had put so much time and effort into your hair, makeup, and outfit — to have it pay off was one of the most rewarding feelings.

“Satoru? Everything okay?” you ask suddenly, having finally noticed your snowy-haired boyfriend standing in the doorframe of your bedroom. His jaw is still practically on the floor, arms hanging limply at his sides as he simply stares at you — it’s almost unsettling, really.

He swallows the lump in his throat, suddenly aware of how tight his pants feel. And as badly as he wants to pounce on you, he knew that you would protest under the reason that Shoko would have your head if you were late to another girl’s night.

“Yeah! Yeah, everything’s good,” he nods quickly, clearing his throat and doing his best to play off the way that he had been ogling at you.

Curiously, you raise an eyebrow at him, but you say nothing in response. You turn back to the mirror, lifting your hands to your hair and smoothing it out, making sure that no strand was out of place.

Satoru swallows again, glancing down at your phone in his hand before tossing it on the bed, then following it and laying on his stomach on the bed. Though laying on his stomach was uncomfortable, he wouldn’t dare admit that simply looking at you had gotten him hard.

“Are you sure that everything is okay Satoru?” you inquire from your place in the front of the mirror, not failing to notice how he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you — not that that was an uncommon occurrence anyway.

Shaking his head and forcing his gaze up to meet your own, Satoru nods quickly — almost too quickly to even be considered human.

You hum, already feeling a smirk curl the corner of your lips upward as you turn to face him, being sure to sway your hips as you walk over to your bed.

You reach your hands down, cupping the sides of Satoru’s face and guiding his gaze to meet yours, an action that he follows without an ounce of hesitation.

“You really are a terrible liar,” you murmur, taking note of your boyfriend’s half-lidded eyes and the small purse of his lips. You lean down, slotting your lips against his own and smiling against him at the moan that he releases into your mouth.

He leans further into you, pushing himself up onto his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you against him.

You pull back from him to catch your breath, not failing to notice the small whine that your action pulls from the back of Satoru’s throat.

“I can’t be late again,” you point out, finding yourself smiling as Satoru’s lust-blown eyes flicker about your expression, deflating when he realizes that you’re being serious.

“Please? It won’t be that late,” Satoru whispers, tucking his face into the crook of your neck and placing sloppy kisses against the skin there. He smirks against you at the shiver that runs up your spine.

You sigh, disconnecting Satoru from your neck and placing your hands against his cheeks again. He tilts his head at you, feigning innocence as you playfully glare down your nose at him.

“Fine,” you relent, craning your neck and pressing your lips to Satoru, allowing him to tug you onto your bed.

You ended up being two hours late to girl’s night — much to the displeasure of Shoko.

“Choso, honey, could you come in here for a second?” you call sweetly from your bedroom, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. You find yourself smiling at the sound of hurried footsteps growing louder, and in a matter of seconds, Choso is standing in the doorframe of your bedroom.

He pauses at the sight in front of him. You’re standing in front of the mirror propped up against one of the bedroom walls, hair done up with a face of makeup on. You’re wearing a dress that Choso hadn’t seen before; a skintight black dress that rides up just a touch too high for his liking — but he would never tell you not to wear it.

You turn to Choso, smiling and placing your hands on your hips — completely oblivious to the effect that you were currently having on him.

“What do you think?” you ask him, leaning your weight to the side. Your dress follows your movement, the right side riding up to expose the skin of your thigh. Choso’s eyes flicker to the newly exposed skin, but they just as quickly return to your eyes, not wanting you to think he was ogling you.

He swallows past the lump in his throat, while also doing his best to ignore the growing strain in his pants. He would just have to restrain himself, you had to leave in twenty minutes after all. The last thing that he wanted was to be the cause of your lateness — though he didn’t know how long he would be able to hold out once you were gone.

“You look gorgeous,” Choso responds quickly, realizing that he had accidentally found himself caught in his own thoughts. You smile at his praise, crossing the room and lifting your arms to wrap them over his neck, nails lightly tracing the nape of his neck.

He shivers against your fingers, biting back a moan that climbs up his throat. You smile mischievously, flashing him one of those looks — the one where he knows that you wouldn’t exactly mind being late for girl’s night.

Choso quickly leans down, roughly pressing his lips to yours as he tugs your chest flush against his own, hands gripping at your waist while your hands tangle in his hair, tugging lightly on the strands. You receive a cracked moan into your mouth following your action — one that has you smirking against Choso’s lips.

He steps towards your bed, lightly dragging you with him until the backs of your legs hit against the bed’s edge. Only then does he help you, hooking his hands underneath the plump of your ass and lifting you up, never once breaking the kiss.

You pull back to inhale greedily, biting your lips together as Choso’s hands wander over the fabric of your dress, fingertips just barely grazing your skin in a way that has you shivering.

“Mine,” he growls against you, bending his head down to press featherlight kisses against your neck, sucking at your pulse point and feeling himself smirk at your back arching in response. Your body pushes itself further into Choso’s arms — a feeling that he would never get used to but wholeheartedly appreciated.

He pulls his lips back from your neck — that earns him a disappointed moan. Choso’s eyes flicker to meet yours, pants straining at the half-lidded look that you give him, pupils lust-blown and chest rising and falling in panted breaths.

With you sitting on the bed and Choso standing in front of you, it grants him easy access to what he wants most. He leans forward to peck your lips again, once again feeling his pants strain at the way your mouth chases his when he pulls back from you.

He lowers himself to his knees in front of you, sending you one last glance before his fingers push up your dress. You let out a small sigh, glancing down at Choso.

At this point, you didn’t even mind the fact that you were forty-five minutes late.

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months

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lowkey..just lowkey.. thinkin about waking up one day and seeing dragon! bakugou in your house…accompanied by a giant hole in your wall.

you’re so confused you can barely process it. there’s a handsome man passed out on your floor and from what you can see (which is basically everything since his shirt is torn to shreds) he looks injured. you also live on the third floor so you have no idea how he landed here, but you think the huge sprawled out wings on his back, his tail and those huge reddish horns that scream “ i’m a mythical being !!” might be the reason.

but there is one thing you’re able to think about and that’s how much money will it cost to fix your damn wall??

you call off work. you call it a family emergency because you don’t think “a shirtless man i think might be a demon just blasted through my wall and he looks injured” is gonna fly over well with your boss.

he seems to be able to heal himself because his wounds look better than when you first laid eyes on him and you can see that his skin looks like it’s restitching itself almost, you decide to help him out a bit and at least dress his wounds up the best you can with the little you know about doctor..stuff.

when he comes to though, he acts like you’re the one who knocked him out. he’s snarling and scowling at you, sharp teeth on display while he growls at you from the comfort of your fucking couch. he spits out all types of curses at you, you’re shocked because they come out so naturally. you’d honestly expected him to speak like some type of caveman and for a second you think this is just a very rude man in very convincing cosplay.

he keeps insulting you and he’s a little too good at it, so much so that it actually hurts your feelings a little. he keeps yapping about how if you didn’t let him out this instant he’ll have you grilled and barbecued or how he’d make quick work of you and have you sold to some merchants for a good amount of gold, since you “look like you’re not worth that much.” you’re a little pissed now. you scowl at him and you feel silly for calling off work and not pushing this huge asshole out of your flat and leaving whatever knocked him out to deal with him.

“you’re the one who blasted a hole in my wall, you jerk ! i say i’m the one who should have you sold if you can’t reimburse me for this, asshole ! and if you wanna walk out without a shirt on and get arrested like a creep, the door’s right there.” you don’t care to see him, because you would’ve seen how his eyes widened to the size of saucers at your retorts. you’ve never been more irritated in your entire life when you stalk to your room to get some much needed rest and to fight off the headache you can already feel slamming against your skull. “even demon men are insufferable.” you mutter bitterly before slamming the door.

you somehow managed to fall back asleep because when you open your eyes again it’s about 10 am. you’re frantic for a moment because you think this was somehow just a very vivid dream and you’re so late for work now. you slam your door open wide eyed and your wall is intact.

shit, your boss was gonna let you have it—

you catch something from the corner of your eye. the insufferable demon man is staring..glaring(?) at you but it’s not as intense as earlier,though. and he’s very much still seated on your couch.

“m-my wall..” you trail off. he clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes at you “i fixed it” he gruffs out.

you like how his voice sounds when he isn’t screaming and threatening you, you immediately scold yourself for thinking like that. he stares and keeps staring at you and you can’t decipher what he’s thinking

“oh..” you gasp “thank you.” he clicks his tongue again and looks away from you. just as much of an ass, but you guessed he felt a little bad about your wall, enough to fix it..somehow. you won’t ask for details.

you can’t will yourself to move past your doorframe so you decide to lean on it a little bit, rubbing your fuzzy socked foot against your calf, you catch him staring at the sudden movement before he looks back up at you. “so are you…a demon or something?” he scoffs for what feels like the umpteenth time today “don’t insult me, human.” he snarls then his face relaxes just slightly “m’ a dragon.” he grumbles.

“oh, wow” the little amount of fantasy manga you’ve read could never have prepared you for this.

you thank him for fixing your wall and he glares at you like he’s mad about it. but then he says he owes it to you for healing him. pointing towards his bandage covered chest. you feel your cheeks burn a little and you’re waving him off, telling him it’s no big deal and somehow his brows furrow even harder. “..so ? what do you want from me?” he growls when you tilt your head at him in confusion “don’t play dumb with me, filthy human ! what do you want in exchange for saving me ?”

“ohh…” you moan. then you shrug “i mean, you already fixed my wall, so i don’t really need anything from you, unless you can make my boss give me a promotion.” you giggle at your own joke and you wave him off again when he looks at you questioningly “nevermind.” you giggle.

he ignores you “you don’t want anything..nothing ?” he speaks apprehensively like he expects you to trick him, you shake your head. he looks bothered by it. he lowers his head and his eyebrows furrow in frustration then he growls.

you think maybe, maybe, he’s the type to feel bad whenever they feel like they can’t repay some type of service. you hadn’t noticed he was apparently on death’s door when you bandaged him up before and it makes you sweat drop a little bit, you try your best to shake it off. he stands up to leave, but he glances at you and suddenly his feet have stopped moving like he’s stuck there and he stares. he doesn’t even look mad like you’ve gotten used to him being for the short amount of time you’ve known him, he just looks confused. he stares at you and you stare at him and for a reason that you cannot understand you don’t want him to leave.

“ um !” you shrink into yourself, embarrassed from his gaze and the fact you were suddenly so loud. “well..you can’t exactly go out like this, it’ll be bad for you i think..it might attract attention to see a wounded shirtless guy walking around, people might take you for..i dunno—” you stumble “a crazy, dangerous person ! yeah, and if that happens they might take you away..so..that’d be bad for you, right ?” you hope he doesn’t realize how much you’re bullshitting around for an excuse but he almost seems to humor you when he crosses his arms across his toned chest.

“what do you suggest i do then, human ?” he growls lowly. he stalks towards you slowly, never breaking eye contact. you will yourself to stay with your feet planted firmly to the ground and head held up somewhat high as you stare up at him, damn he’s tall.

“ you stay here until you’re fully healed, if you wanna make it up to me. it would honestly save me so much trouble” it’s the truth. you can’t help but feel bad when the thought of him getting captured or experimented on crosses your mind, even if he is an asshole, but you don’t say that. you hold out your hand for him to shake “deal ?”

he squints at you and stares and you stare back. usually he would’ve stayed true to his threat and burned you alive by now, the trivial lives of humans are none of his concern. and yet for some reason he himself doesn’t know the answer to he stayed, even fixed up your damn wall you were whining about and even considered apologizing to you..which he absolutely never does !

there’s something different about you and he wants to find out what that something is. so, not so begrudgingly he slowly grasps your hand and squeezes lightly. he ignores the tiny voice in his head that tells him how soft and perfect your hand feels in his.

“deal.”

#lowkey tho just lowkey #i might just make this a series #wippee first maybe series yall #not proofread #ill fix later #i dreamed about this yesterday and i had to write about it #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki x you #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #I always end up writing way more than i mean to w him lmfaoo

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hotyanderedaddies · 5 months

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Yandere Werewolf Boyfriend with a Playful Darling Who Teases Him

[Yandere! Werewolf x GN Playful! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You first met your boyfriend, Alaric, about a year ago when you started attending the local community college. You were working on your Veterinary Assistant Certification, while he was there getting some general education requirements out of the way.

It was love at first sight--

Well, on Alaric's end.

The exact millisecond his eyes landed on you, he knew that you were meant to be his, and his alone. Hence, he immediately began to follow you around campus, trying to learn more about you so that he could begin to court you.

When he found out that you wanted to be a veterinary assistant because of your love for animals, he felt like he had an ace in the hole given his werewolf status.

You love animals, and he's technically an animal; therefore, you were bound to love him (it made sense in his head).

He mustered up the courage to ask you out on a date, to which you surprisingly said "Yes".

Alaric took you to a nice restaurant and then took you to see the monster movie you'd been wanting to see for a while... you thought that it was serendipitous how this cute guy seemed to know where you loved to eat and just what genre of films you loved.

As the night was coming close to an end, Alaric decided to use the big guns, and he revealed to you that he's a werewolf.

Of course you didn't believe it, thinking that he was joking, but then he phased into his wolf form, looking like an overgrown dog with fuzzy ears and big paws.

Alaric half-expected you to run, to scream, to be afraid of him. And he steeled his muscles, getting ready to chase you down if you dared tried to leave--

"Haha!" you giggled, surprising the werewolf. His eyes widened when you actually reached up with a tender hand and gave him a little scratch behind the ear. "Aww, such a good boy."

Alaric jerked back for a second, swallowing down a growl at the thought of being seen as some kind of puppy. He was a big, tough werewolf with enough strength to tear a human being to shreds, not some cute pup!

As time went on, Alaric of course was over the moon that you were now his, but he would sometimes get irked whenever you decided to playfully tease him.

You didn't do it to be mean, you genuinely thought that it was cute how you would ask your boyfriend if he wanted to go for walkies, and his face would get all red and he'd mutter that he wasn't a puppy under his breath.

...but he'd still go on a walk with you.

"You want some head pats?" you would laugh as you'd run your fingers through Alaric's hair.

Alaric would stifle a growl, but just silently glare at you until you'd stop laughing-- but he'd still expect those head pats.

One night, the two of you were cuddling on the couch, watching some trashy reality show when you couldn't resist.

A smirk already on your face, you placed a small hand on Alaric's muscled chest. "Does my big boy want a belly rub?" you chuckled, using the voice you used whenever you'd coo at puppies.

You loved it how red Alaric's face got, and he tried to avoid making direct eye contact with you. "Darling," he huffed in a controlled voice, "I told you, for the thousandth time, I am a man-eating werewolf. I'm not a puppy." To illustrate his point, he flashed his massive canine teeth and gestured down at his enormous paws that were capped with sharp claws.

You playfully stuck out your lower lip and ran your hand up and down his chest, noting how he winced and immediately melted into your touch.

"Aww, don't be like that," you cooed. "Who's my good boy?"

Alaric's blush deepened and you could clearly see his sweatpants start to tent.

When he didn't say anything, you retracted your hand, but froze when Alaric's arm shot out. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist and tugged it back down to his chest so you could give him more belly rubs.

"Me," Alaric blushed, "I'm a good boy."

#yandere boyfriend #werewolf #yandere boy #yandere werewolf #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #possessive boyfriend

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mommypieck · 6 months

Text

𑄽୧ being loud with erwin 𔓘 ᰍ

kinktober day 23: moan my name!!!

✿ erwin smith x reader

✿ warnings: oral (fem receiving), p in v, creampie

"Could you please pass me the salt, baby?" Erwin asks you under the sound of bubbling soup. Erwin's cooking is the best, but for some reason, everything is always so loud in the kitchen.

"What did you say?" you yell at him from the other side of the kitchen, unable to hear what he said. He looks at you with a questionable look, and you know that he probably didn't hear you too.

"You're too quiet, sweetheart," he calls out, sending you a dirty look.

"Nuh-uh." you giggle at him, running to him on your tippy toes to kiss him on the mouth. He smiles into the kiss as he deepens it. He's passionate, exploring your mouth in every way. His tongue softly meets yours before he comes back to just biting your lips.

It doesn't take long for him to move to your neck. He loves how clean your skin looks, but now and then, he needs to get you marked up. He licks at your collarbones, his mouth nearing the mound of your breast before coming back up to suck on your neck. He litters a series of small love bites all around your neck for everyone to see.

"You can't even take this off of me before devouring me." you joke as you throw away the shirt of his you were wearing. He snorts at his comment, saying something along the lines of "But I never intended to fuck you now."

You shove him a little as a joke, puffing your chest and moving your hair so that he can take a good look.

"Beautiful as always." he praises you, hiking your body up and placing you on the kitchen counter. He kisses down between your breasts, this time more hungrily. He scrapes his teeth along your skin in between his kisses and licks.

"I'm gonna eat this sweet pussy." he smiles at you when he stops at the waistband of your panties, getting in between your legs. He gently licks the hood of your pussy over your panties, tongue swiping along your clit. Just this indirect touch makes you let out the dirtiest moans. He tsks to himself before ripping your panties, throwing the shreds somewhere.

He focuses on your sweet bud, sucking it in his mouth. He rolls it inside his mouth, and you can't help but moan.

"I love when you're loud," he confesses with his mouth full of your pussy. Erwin flattens his tongue on your cunt, collecting your juices on his tongue. He smacks his lips, enjoying the taste in his mouth.

You can't help the moans that spill from your mouth as well as you can't help the juices that fall from your pussy right into Erwin's mouth. He can see his cheeks and chin glisten with your nectar, and he eats it as if it were his last meal.

Just as you're about to cum, he pulls away. He stands up between your legs, massaging your thighs as he captures your lips in his once again. You can see his shuffling his pants down to reveal his already hard cock.

"Did you get hard just from eating me out?" you ask him with a giggle, gulping when he answers you with a deep laugh of his own. That was hot.

"It's because of your moans," he confesses, stroking his cock up and down your wetness, "And I got hard from your kisses."

Sometimes you wish he wasn't so honest because his sentence got the reaction that he wanted. You moan loudly at his words, and he uses that opportunity to shove his cock into your pussy.

You scream as the cock hits your cervix, fucking you without any warning. He slowly hits your deepest parts before pulling out and doing it again. It hurts, but you can't help but let out all kinds of noises.

"Be louder for me." he breathes into your mouth, tongue fighting with yours. He quickly picks you up, setting you down on the couch in his lap. He pushes you up on his lap, his cock sliding even deeper inside of your cunt. You're completely wrapped in his arms, and he cherishes your body. You moan louder, the entire room filled with your noises. he answers you with groans on his own.

You're too lost in the pleasure, but he's sure you're gonna get noise complaints tomorrow. It's not like he cares, he's looking towards it. Erwin wants to see the faces of your neighbors as they hear the lewd noises you make.

"I need your cum." you whine in high pitched voice. This one is going to do it, this is gonna tip the neighbors over the edge. He smiles at his thoughts, moving his finger to swipe over your clit, bringing you to your orgasm.

You can't even bounce on his lap with how close and overwhelmed you are. He pushes his cock inside of you a little gentler, hitting your sweet spot dead on. It doesn't even take him three thrusts before your vision goes fuzzy and your legs give you. Your orgasm hits you like a brick, and you fall in Erwin's arms.

The moans accompanied by your orgasm push him over the edge too, and he fills your insides with his warm cum. he doesn't waste any drop as he pumps it inside.

You lay on the couch, entangled in each other's presence. You look at him with your head on his chest, "You like when I'm right?" the mischievous smile you send him goes straight to his heart, which almost melts.

"I love it, sweetheart. But tomorrow we're gonna turn on the volume."

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#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #erwin smith smut #erwin smut #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith x y/n #erwin smith x you

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

Eddie x fem!reader. [vol I]

Summary: just a bit of Eddie’s shenanigans 😈

TW: no minors, angst, mentions of hard times.

W.C: 4.7k

A/N: hope you are all enjoy this! Thank you for all the love received on the first chapter 🥰

You spent the rest of the night questioning why you ever placed the ad in the paper to begin with. Certainly you could just go to sleep and you’d wake up to all of Eddie’s belongings gone because this was a nightmare.. right? Of course. You’d wake up any minute now and things would go back to the way they used to be.

////

Oh how you had hoped.

Eddie wearing your robe was just the tip of the iceberg of the stupid shit he would endure for the next 12 hours. After eating 7 slices of pizza, he wiped his greasy hands down the front of it. Settling for that instead of the arms of the couch after you had scolded him. He talked during the entire episode of The Nanny.

“Holy shit, she’s hot, I mean her voice is kinda nasally but woooowwweeeee.. you think she’s into metalheads? I bet she is. I bet she’d love to be wrapped all up in me, it'd be a secret though for her.” He talked with his mouth full, bits of cheese and pizza sauce flying from his lips and landing on his naked chest. His feet were propped up on the coffee table, toes wiggling like he was a child watching cartoons. “Got any chips? I’m hungry.”

He left a mess wherever he went. The chips he begged you for were still sitting open on the couch. Crumbs decorated the upholstery like confetti at a New Year’s Eve party. His pizza plate on the coffee table, holding an impressive amount of beer cans. Instead of hanging your robe back up on its proper hook in the bathroom, he left it on the floor in between the living room and the hallway. You had gone to bed after he insisted on belching “Love Bites” with three beers tucked between his legs. It was at this moment you thought of begging Steve and Robin to move in with you instead.

“For the last time, I refuse to try to out burp you, I will not be duct taping beers to my hands, and for the love of god if you get salsa on the carpet I will skin you alive.”

“It puts the lotion on its skin….”

You stomp to bed, slamming your bedroom door and throwing the covers over your head. You can hear Eddie slurring through your bedroom walls.

“C’mon Tooooty, I thought we were having a slumber party. You didn’t even paint my nails yet!” His small hiccuping giggles turn into a roar of laughter lasting entirely too long.

The next morning you wake up to your alarm, it’s peaceful, content. Today is a new day and you have a busy schedule working at the salon. Saturdays are easily the most hectic at Josie’s. It seems it’s the only day off for most people to come in and get their hair done. You dress in a simple black tank top tucked into a black mini skirt, a form fitting denim vest over top, and black chunky slide sandals. Spritzing yourself with your Exclamation perfume you just have to brush your teeth and grab a little breakfast.

Upon opening your bedroom door you are hit with a stench so ungodly, it makes the hair stand up on your arms. Did a fucking tornado crash through your home? How hard were you sleeping? You felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz only in reverse, while she was mystified by the sights around her you were full of rage, disgust, and sheer anger.

Eddie.

For fucks sake it is almost as if he needed a goddamn babysitter.

Beer cans litter the floor. A silver ball made of duct tape was sitting on the couch, the small tv was still on. All your VHS’s were scattered along the floor by the entertainment center. A plate of what looked like hardened shredded cheese was balancing on the edge of the coffee table. Rolling papers, and two joints were piled on top of it, along with various baggies of god knows what. Chips were ground into the carpet, their sharp edges making the carpet glitter with nacho cheese and tortilla shrapnel. And sitting opened and probably now dry, was the blue nail polish you had gotten with Robin. The whole place reeked of the dirty rotten scent of spilled stale beer soaking cotton fabric, the remnants of weed wafting from the furniture baking into the fibers from the sun streaming through the windows in lazy strips of golden yellow.

Homicide is probably what? 10 years? You could manage that.

You make your way into the culprits room, swearing under your breath and feeling the sweat start on the back of your neck. Pushing through the heap of clothes and worn boots, you find the prince of trash laying on his back, soft snores escaping his slack mouth. There aren’t even sheets on his mattress, just mountains of his belongings.

A beer is taped crudely to his left hand, your brand new bottle of jergens lays next to him along with a playboy— flipped open to a brunette with obvious fake tits and her lips placed into an orgasm. He apparently threw some boxers on during his midnight raccoon shenanigans.

This is comparable to bringing home a dog from the humane society, you aren’t sure how they’ll act but once you go to sleep— all hell breaks lose.

“Eddie,” you yell, loud enough that your own ears are ringing. He doesn’t move a muscle, just a loud snore erupting from him. You kick at his legs, push his body around but nothing. If it weren’t for the snoring you probably should have called a coroner.

One last slap against his bare chest and he finally groans, “gimme five more minutes baby and I promise I’ll rock your world.” Jesus Christ.

Fuck it, just go to work, you can deal with him when you get home. Breath in and out. Nope— the fuse that was lit in your brain from Eddie’s mess inches its way slowly towards the dynamite, licking up the wick. Also like a dog from the shelter, they need to be trained, told when they are doing something wrong, and immediately corrected.

Filling a cup with cold water you waltz back into his room a smile plastered to your lips.

The splash of water against Eddie’s face is music to your ears as he gasps for breath. Spluttering and sitting up, spilling the beer taped to his hand, he looks like a cat that was thrown in the tub, long curls soaking wet, his bangs parted and thrown back from the force of the water hitting him.

“Damn sweetheart, I said give me five minutes and I’d give you all ten inches of my co—” the plastic cup bounces off of Eddie’s head. “Okay, ow. Goddamn what was that for?!”

“What was that for?! Look around Eddie!” You motion around the house as he stands up holding his head and pressing the palm of his right hand into his eye, dragging it down his face to wipe the remnants of cold water away, “this place is disgusting!”

You begin to list off everything wrong, as you walk around the house, Eddie following begrudgingly behind you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You point out the chips in the carpet, the hardened cheese plate, the vhs mess. Each and everything you show him your voice gets higher and higher and louder and louder. The rage bubbling up in your body as you huff around. A large hand and the odd sensation of a rubbery plastic mass spin you around, holding onto your shoulders.

Eddie’s face is so close to yours, you can see the sun reflecting off the usual darkened browns of his eyes, bringing a goldmine to the muddy surface.

“Tooty— it’s far too early for this shit,” he speaks slowly, the Cheshire Cat like grin on his stupid face spreads across his lips revealing his straight white teeth, “you need to relax a little bit.” He notices the weight of the beer can and tips it back into his mouth, chugging the rest of it and smacking his lips when he’s done. Adding a deafening belch upwards to the ceiling.

You curl your lip in disgust and shove his arm off of you. “What? Hair of the dog baby, gotta keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”

Crossing your arms and taking a step back from him, you take a deep breath, “I don’t know how you lived in the trailer park, and frankly— I don’t give a fuck—but, you will not, make a mess of my house. Either, clean this shit up before I get home from work, or I’ll personally move your crap out to the lawn. Got it?”

His smile fades, and his eyebrows pull together, eyes squinted. The hum of the ceiling fan is the only noise in the house. “Are you threatening me at 7:30 in the morning?” he asks, checking his watch, towering over you. No doubt he is trying to freak you out.

It takes everything in you to not slap him upside the head.

You stand your ground, not letting his carved jaw and mean eyed demeanor get the best of you.

“Damn right I am. I’ll have your shit lying on the lawn like a horrendous Halloween yard sale. Just because the whole town thinks you're some psycho, bastard doesn’t mean I do— you don’t scare me, Munson,” his surname falling from your lips like agent orange, thick and heavy painting the air around you both. Your head held high, eyes glaring back into his. His bravado falters and he also crosses his arms, matching your energy.

“Maybe you should pull the stick out of your ass before it splinters, babe.” Eddie chides back, lips spreading manically across his face.

Neither of you will let the other win, and if you didn’t have to go to work, you would stand here all day arguing with him. You poke a manicured nail into his chest. “You owe me a new bottle of lotion.” With that you push past him and make your way into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

“It was either that or the mayonnaise, sweetheart!”

You had always found comfort working at Josie’s. She had taken you on immediately after finishing Cosmetology school at Empire Beauty School in Indianapolis, giving you full time hours and helping you buy your supplies. Nancy had dropped down to part time, working for both the Hawkins Post and cutting hair on the side. Josie was like an older sister to you, and you loved her dearly.

After doing matching perm sets on a mother and daughter, a trim on your regular client, Audrey, and catching up with the latest gossip from Molly about her date that ended with them making out in his car—it was time for your lunch break.

The leftover half of a tuna salad sandwich stared you down from its cellophane wrapper, begging you to ingest the soggy yet stale bread. A stomach ache waiting to happen. Tossing it into the trash, you settle for Marlboro menthols and a Diet Coke. The sun is high in the sky, begging you to enjoy it.

You shed your vest as you sit on the back patio, leaning your head against the neon pink and white striped plastic pool chair lounger, stretching your legs out and kicking off your sandals. You accept the sun’s rays into your skin. Sunglasses poised on your face and a cigarette tucked between your mauve painted lips, you pretend you’re in a movie.

But you’re not— you’re in the middle of Butthole, Indiana. The only exciting thing that happened here was the possibility of hearing the latest town gossip about someone’s cousin, friend, or ex getting knocked up by the high school football star.

You longed for a day off where you and Robin could enjoy the once luxurious but not desolate woods of Lover’s Lake. Nothing but the peaceful breeze to fill your mind and the light rustle of the leaves.

Nancy pulled the blue matching chair up next to you, curling her legs beneath her as you silently pull your lighter from your pocket and hand it to her. A small cloud of smoke dances around your face as she lights her cigarette inhaling deeply.

“Ready for the honeymoon?” You ask her as she inches her way down the seat, a slight squeak to the rubbery plastic as she settles her body in.

Nancy and Jonathan had gotten married two months ago. The wedding was pristine and beautiful in typical Nancy fashion. Her glorious curls in a French twist, soft tendrils framing her youthful face. A pearl colored lace gown billowing behind her and sleeves puffed around her shoulders with dainty lace decorating down her delicate wrists. She looked incredible.

You cried standing beside Holly and El in your peach colored satin gowns, wiping your eyes when they read their nuptials, vowing to be together during sickness and in health. Will, Argyle, and Mike stood beside Jonathan trying like hell to stand upright as the bachelor party spilled into the midnight hours, Mike, paler than usual and Will, drenched with sweat under the beaming lights of the church. Argyle was the only one smiling through the entire ceremony, moving his head to the rhythm of the organ.

Karen had wept and gathered you into a tight hug for helping style the bridal party’s hair that morning, and for being such a wonderful roommate to Nancy. Ted checked his watch every half hour, and kept an eye on the punch which seemingly looked to get darker and darker throughout the night.

Joyce and Hopper held each other close and danced slow to every song played. Their undying love for one another evident on their faces.

A very drunk Murray Bauman hollered obscenities behind the bar, obviously taking advantage of the open bar night as he mixed drinks for the Wheeler and Byer wedding guests, heavy on the liquor. It wasn’t until grandma Wheeler grabbed the mic and started singing Frank Sinatra that someone caught on to Murray’s antics.

You had danced and laughed along with your high school classmates all night, spilling champagne and beer onto the community center floor, the bottom of

Nancy’s dress turned an ugly smoke gray. It was a perfect summer wedding, one that all of Hawkins would be talking about for years to come.

Nancy stretched her back and twisted her neck to look at you, blue eyes peering over round colored lenses, “Yes, I can’t wait to dip my toes in the ocean,” she says beaming, “we’ve been going to the pool pretty often these last few weeks trying to tan Jonathan a little bit so he doesn’t burn like a piece of bread in Cancun.”

A giggle bubbles on her lips as you laugh along with her. “Any luck on finding a roommate?”

You had been dreading this conversation. Originally you had hoped that Erica Sinclair or even Max would maybe want to be your roommate. Sadly they were both either starting college or finishing up their degree this year—Lucas turned down a full ride basketball scholarship to be with Max. Even the boys had places to go. Dustin and Suzy were finishing their summer internships and moving in together—he had plans on proposing after summer’s end. Will lived in Indianapolis, he became a teacher’s aid after finishing his Bachelor’s in Fine Arts, hoping to one day become a professor. Mike and El lived in Hopper’s cabin, tucked deep in the woods. Celebrating being together for almost 10 years. It was quite literally just you— single, and desperate for a roommate.

“Yeah— I uhh— they moved in last night actually,” you said through a wall of smoke nonchalantly. Lighting another cigarette to power through this conversation.

Nancy is picking at her cuticles and flipping through Cosmo as she asks who answered the ad.

A nervous laugh surpasses your lips, “Eddie,” you say in almost a question.

Nancy stops moving entirely. The ash from her cigarette threatening it’s length. She shakes her head and corrects herself, “Sorry, I think I had a stroke… did you say Eddie? As in Eddie Munson?”

You throw your arm over your eyes and slip further into the chair, hoping it would swallow you whole. A groan escapes your lips followed by your confirmation.

“There was no one else! Everyone is off at school, or getting engaged— he was the only one to show up and look at the house! Plus he forked out more cash than I had originally been asking for so obviously he can afford the rent.”

“Probably drug money,” Nancy coughed.

“Honestly I don’t care if he robbed a bank, the money is there and right now—” the threat of what your life could become stings like a wasp in your brain, red ink showing final notice, light switches not working due to the electricity being shut off, before Eddie moved in— you were well on your way to that lifestyle. “that is what matters.”

Nancy huffs in disagreement, taking a breath to settle her nerves. “I don’t know him personally— but just be careful. Wait, wasn’t he friends with—”

“Yup.” You quip, tight lipped and short, “Robin and Steve know him too.”

“That's what I had thought, well at least he’s not like, a total stranger then.”

Nancy listens intently to the horrors of the past 24 hours at the house she once lived in. Twisting her wedding ring around her small fingers, she had never been more thankful to be married.

The work day ended later than you had hoped, a last minute client showed up begging for a “quick perm” — as if there were such a thing. You waved goodbye as you reminded her of the strict no washing policy when it came to maintaining her curls in place. You sweep the floor in a rush and place your combs and scissors in the blue barbicide. Putting away the perm rods and wiping down the surfaces. Switching over the laundry so at least the towels would be dry by the time you opened on Monday morning.

You were tired and your back felt a little stiff. You shut off the radio, still humming Material Girl, to yourself as you turned off the lights and locked the door.

The drive home was short, your small Ford escort a blur through the streets of Hawkins. You could hear your bed calling you, maybe you’d make yourself a grilled cheese and do some laundry so you wouldn’t have to do it tomorrow. But when you pulled into your driveway you realized you wouldn’t be relaxing at all tonight.

The garage door was pulled open, a makeshift banner with red and black spray painted letters on it spelled out “Corroded Coffin”, a better glance at it and you could see it was the same pattern as your spare bed sheets that you kept in the linen closet. The garbage cans were moved out of the way and tossed into the front yard. Cords from amps and a microphone were plugged into every outlet your small garage could offer. A drum set was in the back beside the shelf that held old paint cans full of lead. The floppy blond haired idiot slammed a Busch Light as he twirled a drumstick in his hand. Two members of the band were head banging along to the guitar solo that Eddie was plucking away at. His fingers moved fluidly over the fretboard. Years of practice evident in the dexterity of his hands. The muscles in his arms tight and flexed, veins protruding around them. There were beer cans scattered all around them. Another dirty thirty, no doubt. Fries were spilling out of empty fast food bags and greasy burger wrappers were littering the ground. The push mower was laying on its side, in the middle of the driveway. The rake snapped in half.

The slam of your car door goes unheard.

The unhinged quirk of your jaw starts to ache as you clench your teeth, stomping towards the garage band. The guitar solo ends just as you get to the garage. They’re all hollering and cheering as Eddie whips his head back, long sweaty strands of his curls whipping around as he tries to catch his breath. Holding the beer at arms length, he pours it into his mouth, light amber colored lager flowing down his chin and the expanse of his neck.

“Fuckin’ told you Jeff,” Eddie says, throwing the beer to the ground at the other guitarists feet, “don’t matter if its been five or fifteen years— I can still play that Master of Puppets solo.” A smug smile spreads across his mouth as he pulls a joint from his back pocket, and lights it between lips.

Jeff swings his guitar off his neck and places it on one of the amps, “yeah, yeah whatever man— you gonna share that or just keep gloating?”

You are standing on the driveway, hands on your hips, weight balancing on one leg, the other straight out, foot tapping in annoyance, waiting for the band of rejects to notice your throat clearing.

“Tooty!” They all yell in unison.

Your expression doesn’t fade. Jaw unhinged, lips pressed together tightly. The icy cold of your stare burrowing into Eddie’s beer and sweat soaked skin, a hazy film around him as he exhales the joint.

“Aww, sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He says with fake concern, a smirk curled on his lips, “you mad you missed the jam sesh?” Eddie croons, the tip of the joint goes red as he inhales again and passes it to Jeff, “don’t worry we do this every other night I’m sure you’ll catch the next one.”

The garage fills with echoing drunk laughs and the asshole on the drums hits a ba dum tss. Causing Eddie to choke on his exhale and start a coughing fit. He’s doubled over laughing as he forces the smoke from his lungs.

“Not here you’re not.”

He looks from you to the guys, all four dumbstruck by your words.

“Please tell me, Tooty, why I, a paying resident of this house,” he says, gesturing wildly around him, taking long legged steps towards you, head dipping and turning to catch your gaze, “am not ‘allowed’ to practice with my band, in a garage that we share?”

He’s lowering his head down to you, the ends of his sweaty curls licking your cheeks as he closes the gap between you, rubbing a hand across his chin, that same smirk on his face as always.

“Hmm?”

You let out an exhausted sigh. After a long day at work the only thing you had wanted to do was relax— not deal with Eddie’s antics.

“I’m not going to entertain your little half-witted dreams from middle school on being the next Kirk Hammett— find somewhere else to play rockstar, and get this shit out of here.”

You shove past him and the band as you stomp through the door leading into the kitchen, hanging up your keys. A quick look around made your head spin.

The house looked worse now than it did when you left for work. Dishes piled along each surface on the counters and into the sink, the microwave was open with what looked like the remnants of a spaghetti-o explosion, a beer can pyramid was starting in the living room. A burnt aluminum pan of jiffy pop sat on the stove, charred on the bottom. The trash bag suitcases Eddie had packed his belongings with, were now thrown in between his room and the hallway.

You were fed up with this bullshit, it had been 24 hours and he was already on your last nerve. Dragging both hands down your face in sheer fatigue, you grab a roll of trash bags from under the sink. Walking heavy footed back to the door, making as much noise as possible, you fling open the door, four pairs of wide eyes stare you down as you shake open the garbage bag.

“Here, let me help you because apparently you don’t have any common fucking sense.” You stomp over to Eddie and rip another bag free from the roll and toss it to him.

In the best condescending tone you can muster you explain, “This, is a garbage bag. Oooh, ahhh. Cool right? See? When you are done with something and it’s empty,” you educate the gaggle of degenerates, “you pick it up, and throw it away! Wow.” You demonstrate for them, picking up an empty can of beer and placing it in the bag.

“See how easy that is? Now,” you say turning towards Eddie your eyes lost of any endearment, “Do you think you big boys could handle that? Or do you need written instructions?”

A scoff is heard from behind you, as it’s now your turn to smirk, stomping back up the steps and into the kitchen, slamming the door hard behind you.

Huffing and puffing, you know that the house will never get clean if you don’t do it yourself. You change into a faded Hawkins High shirt and a pair of old worn cotton shorts with paint smears on the hips from when you and Nancy tackled painting the living room last summer, as you set to work on the kitchen. Pulling on a pair of rubber yellow gloves, you make work on cleaning the mess Eddie had made. The soft hum of your kitchen radio plays as Pearl Jam invades the background. You first fill the sink with the hottest water the faucet allowed, dousing the dishes with dish soap. You’re carrying around the garbage can, picking up empty beer cans, cigarette butts, and the charcoal mess of black popcorn on the the stove.

You don’t hear him enter the kitchen, your mind far away to another time, when Nancy lived with you and the only problem she caused was paying rent a week early. He advances towards you and stops in front of you, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath.

“What’s your fuckin’ problem? You can be a bitch to me all you want, but the guys don’t deserve that.”

You set the garbage can down by your feet, a rubber glove shoved into his chest, “If you think I give a fuck about what they deserve, you are sadly mistaken! I deserve to not have my house completely trashed every time I turn my back!”

“I didn’t know I was living in a fucking convent, Sister Tooty.” Eddie argues, proud of his comeback he leans against the counter, arms folded across his chest, “that why you never get laid?”

You roll your eyes, “fucking yourself with a beer can taped to your hand isn’t exactly getting laid, Munson. But keep it up, you won’t be living here for long if you keep acting like a fucking pig!”

“Again, with your empty threats, sweetheart. Isn’t it tiring being so mad all the time— careful, looks Iike you’re already getting wrinkles.” A throaty laugh escapes his mouth and he sweeps his thumb between your eyebrows, trying to joke around and diffuse the tension growing between you both.

You swat your hands at him and pull away, a look of disgust and frustration planted on your face.

“Jesus,” he says irritated, “Harrington told me that your family moved away— didn’t know it was because you’re such a stone-cold bitch.”

Without even thinking, you shove him hard in the chest. He goes crashing backwards, the rest of the cluttered items on the counter cascade to the floor with loud thuds. Your cheeks are heated, and your eyes glisten with tears, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. You look at your socked feet and back up to him. Your lip quivering, head held high.

His expression is stunned, not angry like you thought he would be. A look of worry washes over his face as he realizes he crossed the line. Anger ran its course as he recognizes that he hurt you.

“Ah fuck,” he breathes, putting his head down and shaking his long mane. He looks back up to your face, still steady, not daring to let those traitorous tears fall.

“Tooty, I’m— I’m sorry.”

You pluck off your rubber gloves and toss them to the counter, making a dash to the bathroom and locking the door. Eddie doesn’t hear your crying, drowned out from the shower head as he starts to clean up his mess.

vol iii

—

A/N: thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! If your name is crossed out on the Taglist it means your settings are more than likely set to private and you’re not allowed to be tagged!

Tag list: @tlclick73 @sweetsweetjellybean @bbyhargrove @sidthedollface2 @eddiesguitarskills @manda-panda-monium @luna-munson83 @sinczir @icequeen1371 @stephywxphy @aol19 @munsonzlsvr @2lekk @thirddeadlysin @sevikasblackgf @whenshelanded @b-irock @daleyeahson @alanamarie @ijustwanttoreadsmutttt @emmalee-01 @justsheerfilth1 @mynameismothra @1weirdbitch @emma77645 @aysheashea @kaitlynnlo @micheledawn1975 @iheartyouyou @xladyluna15x @awhoreforeddiemunson @fallinginlovewithqueue @notdeadnotalive @seventhlevelofhell @belleoftheba11 @secretdryrose @harlowsgirl @gloryekaterina @veravee-blog @leahjean @Ifaewrites @amestbr @lunatictardis @munson-blurbs @corroded-hellfire @agentmarvel @ghost-proofbaby @jo-harrington @abibliophobiaa @josephfakingquinn @bimbobaggins69 @loveshotzz @jadequeen88 @joejoequinnquinn @divamatrixx @myosotisa @boomhauer @br0ck-eddie @avalon-wolf

#eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #Eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x f!reader #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson

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satoruhour · 8 months

Note

do you have any headcannons for gojo comforting reader when they start their period? (If i already sent this ask, ignore the first one! i couldnt remember if i asked this already or not)

a/n: hi darlaaa thank you for waiting teehee i love the gojo asks you’re giving me / i tried to keep it as general as possible even tho i only use pads! gn!reader, a little brief n*sfw at the end

i think we have all established that gojo is actually like . crazy in love with you and because of that he hates that you’re hurting so much bc of it :(

gojo likes to be at your command (even on normal days but) so he’s noting down every small thing you mention

“a tub of ice cream would sound so good rn…” or “think im running out of heat pads”

and he’s on his feet instantly. when youre sick or on your period he just declares it an off day, or at least on the first day when it’s the most painful

doesn’t really care about blood since he’s seen his fair share but he sometimes panics if your period comes during the night and he sees that the sheets are red

gojo lightly turns you over and sees that it’s coming from your centre and breathes a sigh of relief bc he’s had one too many nightmares about you getting bloodied and torn to shreds by a curse and he’s too late to save you

anyway. enough of the dark stuff, you freak out the first time you stay over and your period comes (the timing is so shit truly) bc his sheets are so expensive and you just “oh my god i just ruined my chance w this beautiful man”

but gojo doesn’t bat an eye, rather jumps up to comfort you, rubbing a soothing hand over you before you head over to the bathroom to clean up

a bit of blood got on him tho, thru cuddling and gojo makes a joke about how you’re “marking” him and you just roll your eyes and shove him away with a smile lol

he gives you everything you need to clean up most of the time and lets you do your thing

doesn’t let you change the sheets w/ him and rather makes you sit down to watch him, as with other things

changing the channel? gojo is there to do it. u want another snack from the pantry? he’s teleporting that short distance in his house because he doesn’t want you to feel that disgusting rush of blood whenever you stand up. hes so dramatic i swear

has made pms jokes before but he’s changed and he’s a better man now fr. gojo has gotten a lecture from utahime and then didnt take it seriously and then REALLY got told off by shoko after 💀

now whenever you’re moody he just shuts up and comforts you quietly <3

gojo willingly straps on those devices that mimic period cramps and then just when he wants to boast, you turn on the device to the highest setting (he told u to give him ur all) and he SCREAMS the most high pitched shriek ever it’s hilarious

tricks yuji into trying it out and poor yuji gullibly smiles even when gojo hasnt explained what it’s for and the way yuji grits his teeth omfg. you swear you hear sukuna ask gojo to never fuckin do that again

never disrespects you again

reluctantly gives you his sweet things 😭 he gets a little sad when he returns from a mission and his cheesecake is gone and you’re just sitting in front of the tv going “what?” LMFAOOO

he loves you too much however and lets you do whatever!

praises you even MORE during this time it’s kinda adorbs lol — “oh! you worked out on your period, love that for you, darling!!!!”

“my baby stood up from the couch! yaayyy!!!” he’s so annoyingly cute bye

learns so much about your favourite pad and tampon brands but also has that first time funny moment where he calls you and says “babe what size pussy you have?” and 😭😭

memorises the lengths/thickness and different uses but sometimes he still buys the wrong thing (it’s ok he’s cute enough that u forgive him)

has the biggest gasp when he finds out some brands put in chemicals to make ppl w/ vaginas bleed more so they buy more sanitary products

is fully motivated to go to the offices to protest 😭😭😭

buys SO MANY packets of sanitary products and just makes the excuse of “i’m rich“ and “doesn’t hurt to have more of it in case you run out”

you gesture incredulously, “yeah but not TWENTY PACKETS????? ARE YOU INSANE?”

your sweet boyfriend is just worried for you

gives the higher-ups shit cause they make you go on a mission while on your period and it’s so disgusting to exercise, much less exorcise and run around on a mission and tells them he’ll take it instead.

gojo doesn’t tell you he did tho, just comes home a little later than usual to find u already asleep

would love to make u soup but we’ve also established he sucks in the kitchen so … he just buys you those soup packets from the soup spoon and tells you he made it himself

you believe him once. and then the next day u catch an email notifying him more packets of soup is coming the next morning 💀

you two ended up eating soup for the next few days

tells you about his missions or days if you don’t want to say or do anything. he can talk your ear off for hours and you’re glad for that but sometimes you slip in little hums or nods and he can’t help but smile hehe

gojo rubs his hand on your tummy and womb when it hurts :( it’s endearing :((

sometimes also asks you if you’d like it on your core if it hurts, and his hand cupping your cunt feels nice at times.

also wiggles his eyebrows too much asking if you need his help to cum or something bc he heard it calms cramps LOL

suggests helping you to rub one out if you want but really it all depends on you if you want it <3

all in all a very sweet guy to be around and sometimes you have to tell him to quiet down cause he’s a little too hyper but he takes care of you extensively :3 you’re his baby !!!!

#satoruhour's mutuals #asks #sukunaphilia #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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peachesofteal · 10 months

Note

that recent non canon thing of darling + soapghost.. WHEWWWWW

Right?! It’s been eating away at my brain a little. I hinted a bit about Johnny wanting kids when they were shopping for a new place, but canon Simon and Johnny would never swap Darling’s bc or do anything like this.

But, it is fun to think about…

18+ Minors DNI: Dubious consent. Explicit sex, breeding kink.

If they were just a little bit more lost to the darkest sides of themselves, just a little bit more twisted up in their heads and their hearts, they’d hatch a plan to swap your pills. Johnny would keep you tied up on the couch, half swaddled in a blanket and enclosed in his arms, distracting you with sweet kisses and gentle touch, lulling you into a relaxed state while Simon makes the swap as quick as he can. They’ve already decided, they won’t lose you. They’ll do whatever they need to do, to keep you with them, for as long as they live.

That kind of thinking is what brings them together in bed that night, with you spread out between them. It’s what has Johnny buried in you so deep he’s pressing against your cervix while you’re bent over two pillows that sit beneath the small of your back, lips mouthing along Simon’s cock, a fine distraction, as he pulls your legs by your knees back towards your shoulders, spreading you wide so Johnny can fuck his come into you as deep as possible. Johnny fucks into wildly, chasing his orgasm, chasing his dreams of a baby with you, with Simon, his body desperate to plug you as full of his come as he can, and then locking himself against you so not a single drop can spill out.

When you come, cunt clenching down around him, they both praise you, eager to wring as many orgasms from your body as possible, old wives tales telling them this will make it easier, will help it take faster.

“Fuck, darling. What a good girl, coming on my cock.” He hisses between clenched teeth, composure completely shredded. He fills you with a shudder, eyes clenched tight as you gasp, body trembling when he curls himself to notch his nose against your cheek, breathing heavily and whispering sweet assurances in your ear.

When they switch, you giggle, hazy and content, wiggling away from your spot until Johnny stills you with a soothing hand along your stomach.

“Hold still, that’s it.” He coaxes, stroking your skin while Simon settles between your legs. He can’t help but bend forward to press the softest kiss against your belly, next to where Johnny’s hand sits. He nuzzles his cheek against his fingers, and you sigh, like you’re in on their little secret.

“We love you.” He croons, and you tuck your bottom teeth between your lip. “We love you so much, darling girl.” You begin to say it back, but he pushes into you, his movements slick with the aftermath of Johnny’s orgasm and yours, pushing him along until there’s a fire raging in his gut and his toes are curling. You’re moaning, squeezing down around him, like you want him to fill you, breed you, give you his baby and he can’t resist it, visions of you heavy carrying their child sparking across his mind like he’s seeing stars until he’s coming with a shout.

And it most likely it doesn’t even take that time.

#dead disco #not canon #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap x reader #peaches asks #peaches writes #comment rb #baby trap au

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transalphabf · 3 months

Text

Corruption (2000 follower special)

You are an Angel, pure, light, and always bright. It's hard for anything to take you by surprise, for you know All that is The Will of your God.

Which was why the Demon sat across from you at the coffee shop was so... Unusual.

"Um, it is a special pleasure to make your acquantaince, Mr Demonos sir, but why have you decided to sit with me today? Do you perhaps wish for me to Save you?" You asked with a bright, if uncertain smile.

The demon smiled back at you with an inhumanly toothy smile, sharp teeth glinting in the light for a moment before seemingly becoming more human again for a moment.

"Well, angel, I've been watching you for a little while now and I wanted to finally talk to you." He explained.

You blinked, confused now.

"Watching me? Why? I shan't be corrupted by you! You won't make me Fall or tempt me to the path of dismay!" You insisted, brows furrowing.

He seemed to roll his eyes for a long moment, sclera flashing black for a brief moment as the rain rolled against the window with an especially strong gust of wind.

"I have been possessed by you, from the moment I first saw you. I can See your Halo, your wings, your very Aura, and you have transfixed me!" He hissed, almost accusatory if not for the adoring undertone.

You didn't really know what to make of that, but it stirred something deep inside of you. You hadn't come across a Demon that could See your Holy aura, he was unusual in that sense.

You could See his Unholy aura too, the long, black, curved horns that ran along his head, stopping in points just below his ears. His long, pointed ears, and the long whiplike tail that swished to and fro on the floor. To the humans around you, they just saw two men, one blond, the other dark haired, one clean shaven and pretty, the other with a beard and a little scrappy looking.

"I... Am not sure what to make of that, sir. I certainly did not mean to have some affect to you." You apologised, heat rising to your cheeks.

"Come with me to my home so I may See you in your raw glory." He asked, averting his eyes, a similar heat rising in his own cheeks, bashful about your Might. You smiled, and nodded, offering him your hand, which he took in his own warm one.

It was a quick enough journey to his home, which was opulent to almost the point of gaudiness, evidence of his avarice and pride - sins you hoped to teach him to repent of once he saw your Holiness.

You stood in the centre of his living room, and he sat on the chesterfield couch, dark oxblood red leather as he sprawled and looked up at you. You allowed your eyes to close, and your mortal shell dropped, your Holy aura shining through, modern clothing dropping to the angelic robes you were comfortable with, your dappled white and silver wings catching on the light that emanated from your creamy halo.

He fell to his knees before you, staring up adoringly. You smiled at him, and held a hand out to him.

He took it, and then pulled you forward, causing you to stumble closer to him.

And then his head was under your robes, his hands gripping your thighs as he licked over your cunt.

You gasped, the heat of a tongue over your previously untouched genitalia was searing itself to your very core.

He growled quietly, and threw you down onto his couch, his own mortal shell dropping away as his leathery batlike wings spread above you, his long tail coiling around your thigh, the tip rubbing at your clit, causing you to cry out before his lips fell onto yours, his Unholy hands defiling your virginal body.

You couldn't bring yourself to dislike it.

He was everywhere, kissing and biting at your skin, shredding your robes with his clawed hands, and then smoothed his hands over your chest, admiring the smooth skin he found, before he took hold of your thighs, dragging your hips up to his face as he began to feast on your sweet cunt, long tongue pressing deep into you, touching at something that made your toes curl and your hips rocking into his face as he greedily ate you out, his tail dipping down and pressing into your ass, toying with you. You cried out, experiencing your first ever orgasm, light filling the room as you came. He moaned for a long moment, and the horns on his head seemed to become less blackened.

He then pushed your legs up to your chest and his long, inhuman cock pulsed against your cunt and up to your abdomen, promising to fill you so deeply that you didn't know what would happen.

He pressed into you, the feeling so strange, so new, so holy that you couldn't help but moan out as inch after long, agonising inch filled you, heat in your core that you'd never felt before seemed to drag out forever - until he was so deep inside of you that your stomach bulged somewhat.

And then he was moving, one fistful of feathers holding you and your wings in place, the other holding your legs against your chest, his tail toying with your clit, his demonic cock defiling your most sacred cunt.

And it felt so good, each thrust grinding up against everything you never knew you wanted grinding on. You came and came, and he kept fucking you, the pulse of his cock making you go wild - and then his cock changed shape between strokes. Where it had been mostly human shaped, it turned into a ridged tentacle, and each thrust had it pulsing and changing thickness, dragging against your hole and then seemingly giving you reprieve before changing again into being insanely thick, stretching you out.

You screamed as you came, and his batlike wings stopped being so dark and horned, becoming smoother and more supple.

Finally, his cock settled on another shape, with a bulb at the bottom that seemed to inflate and grow as he got closer to his own orgasm - his knot.

And when he knotted you, you could feel his hot demonic cum pour into your sacred, holy womb. He was defiling the most special place with his unworthy cum, but all you could think of was how good he looked being cleansed by your holy aura - and how his defilement of you had brought you from being the holiest of the angels to being more. His cum seemed to pump for minutes into you, distending your womb a little so you already looked pregnant - pregnancy wasn't something you were certain angels could experience, but if you could, he would ensure you did.

And that had you cumming again, around his enormous cock.

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strangersmunsons · 5 months

Text

christmas wrapping

“When what to my wondering eyes should appear in the line is that guy I’ve been chasing all year!” eddie munson x reader, ~1500 words

“I love the holidays, I love Christmas,” you mutter to yourself through gritted teeth as you wrestle with the roll of icy-blue paper. Cartoon snowmen and polar bears stare back at you with their unmoving little eyes, mocking your frustration.

Gift wrapping isn’t your strong suit. It’s like as soon as you pick up the scissors, you lose all motor function in your hands. The presents you hand out end up covered in more Scotch tape than they are actual paper.

Armed with a pair of big kitchen shears, you glide the blade as carefully as possible through the paper. The rectangle you’re trying to cut is almost free from the roll when the paper snags, and instead of following the clean line you were aiming for, it wrinkles and veers to the side, leaving you with a huge shred in the corner.

An angry squeal escapes from your lips and you set the scissors down on the plush living room rug. You close your eyes and count to five, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm yourself down.

You swear you’re not usually this grumpy during the holidays. But it seems like everything that you normally love doing in the buildup to Christmas has just been so terribly exhausting.

First, there was a new promotion at work. While the better pay was wonderful, you were slightly unprepared for the extra stress that came with your new position. Every day it felt like you were scrambling to stay on top of everything, putting in extra hours just to make sure nothing slipped through the cracks. It left you with hardly any time to get your shopping done, so you ended up having to take multiple trips to the department store — always just before it closed, God bless retail employees for having the restraint not to kill you right where you stood — wandering around to try and pick out suitable gifts for everyone. Not to mention that there are a few you ordered from a catalogue, which are still nowhere to be seen, despite the fact that it’s Christmas Eve and you needed them like, yesterday.

As if all this wasn’t hectic enough, you had been positively bombarded with invitations. Three separate work parties — office, departmental, and company-wide. Then dinner and drinks with the coworkers you actually like. White elephant with your buddies from college. Ornament exchange with the cousins from your Mom’s side, Secret Santa with the cousins from your Dad’s side. A Christmas movie night with your childhood friends.

The list went on.

Finally, you’d put your foot down. No more parties, no more “fun holiday activities” that were starting to give you more anxiety than joy — you needed a fucking break.

That’s how you ended up alone on Christmas Eve, finishing up the last of your gift-wrapping. Soon you would tuck the final present under your tree, then stick the world’s smallest turkey into the oven, and lay on the couch waiting for it to be done, all in beautiful solitude. You even took the phone off the hook, just in case.

After another brief struggle, you finally manage to cut a substantial amount of paper to cover this last gift. You fumble with the box and clumsily wrap it up, sealing it with copious amounts of tape. There’s a flood of relief that washes through you when it's finally under the tree; it’s as though a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

When that’s finished, you bustle about in the kitchen to make your dinner for one. Bing Crosby croons in the background as you make small portions of your favorite holiday foods, and the sweet fragrance of a cinnamon-scented candle helps boost your mood even further. Gentle snow flurries whirl outside the window.

The afternoon passes by in peace, until you hit one little roadblock: you forgot the cranberries. You lean with your hip against the kitchen counter, tapping a rhythm on the tile with your nails while you debate your next move. Dinner without them isn’t a huge deal, really, you suppose you could do without them, but…there does happen to be a 24-hour grocery store that should still be open. And it’s only a few minutes drive…

Hey, what the hell. You’re rather partial to cranberries.

So you grudgingly slip your feet into your boots, and get bundled up in your winter coat. You jam a woolly hat on your head, sling your purse over your shoulder, and head out the door.

In less than ten you’re at the store. It’s swamped with other last-minute shoppers like yourself, all looking to buy that last ingredient they forgot, eager to return home to their families and friends. There’s a pang in your heart as you watch them mill about; maybe you were being too rash when you decided to spend Christmas Eve alone. Maybe you shouldn’t have let the stress of the season get to you.

God, you feel like the Grinch. Or worse — Ebenezer Scrooge.

You sigh as you pluck a can of cranberries from the shelf, and then unenthusiastically make your way to the checkout aisle. The line is long, clogged up as the overworked cashiers try their best to deal with the onslaught of antsy customers as best they can.

You’re so busy internally sympathizing with the employees (and also feeling guilty for adding to their burden by being there yourself), you almost don’t feel the light tap on your shoulder.

You turn on your heel in surprise, and experience a squirm of pleasure when you see who it is: Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson, who you met about a year ago and liked immensely, but still somehow…failed to make something happen with.

It wasn’t for lack of trying! The two of you had met at a bar where his band had been playing a show; when it was over, he bought you a drink and you talked through the rest of the night, until the bartender all but kicked you out. He left you with his phone number and a kiss on the cheek. You wanted to find time for him, you really did, but it had been a busy year.

You played phone tag for months, always trying to set something up, but never managed to follow through. Life had a funny habit of getting in the way. Even when you two bumped into each other in person again — and it happened more than once — there never seemed to be a time when you were both free. The exception of course being last Halloween, when he was supposed to pick you up for a party, which you're sure would have been a blast...if his car hadn't broken down and derailed you yet again.

And then, when you got your promotion, your love life went on the back burner. Any prospects of going on a date with Eddie pretty much flew out the window.

But now here he is, in the flesh. And God, is he cute.

His hair is damp and a little disheveled, probably the result of snowflakes catching in the curls and melting. He’s not wearing a hat, but there’s a red knit scarf knotted around his neck, trailing down his big black overcoat.

“Hey, you,” he says, rosy cheeks dimpling as he gives you a huge smile.

“Hi,” you reply brightly, overwhelmed with sudden happiness. “Merry Christmas.”

“And you as well, sweetheart. Forgot the cranberries, I see,” he says, pointing at the lone can clutched in your gloved fingers.

“Guilty,” you shrug, unable to keep the silly grin off your face.

He laughs, and his chocolate-brown eyes crinkle at the corners. “Well, I can hardly tease you for that, now can I?” He fishes around in the plastic shopping basket hanging from the crook of his arm, and comes up with an identical can.

“Would you look at that? Great minds think alike. Or don’t think alike, I guess.”

“Truer words were never spoken.”

The two of you inch forward in the line.

“So, you got big plans this Christmas or what?” he asks, eyes twinkling.

“Actually, no,” you admit. “I’ll visit my family tomorrow, but for tonight it’s just me. I love the holidays, I do, but I just didn’t have it in me to go all-out this year.”

Eddie stops midstep. “You’re spending Christmas Eve alone?”

You shrug uncertainly, once again doubting your plans. “Yeah.”

He cocks his head to the side, playful smirk on his lips. “What a coincidence. So am I.” He shakes the grocery basket, contents rattling around inside. “S’why I came to get the goods. I’m fending for myself tonight.”

You’re a little taken aback by that. “Really? What about your uncle?”

“Wayne? Well, his, ah, lady friend invited him to her family dinner up near Indianapolis. They invited me to tag along, but I said no. Didn’t wanna impose.”

“Oh. I see.”

In a moment’s pause, some understanding passes between the two of you. Eddie busts out laughing again, and you don’t have to ask him what’s funny.

Giggling yourself now, you straighten up and look him square in the face. “Eddie,” you say, trying and failing to keep your tone serious, “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Eddie abandons his shopping basket. (You’ve no idea what he’d been planning on making, exactly; you glimpsed a package of hamburger helper and a jar of pickles, amongst other things.)

But he does insist on paying for your cranberries.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson christmas fic #eddie munson holiday fic

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gojo-enthusiast · 6 months

Text

Suguru Geto ~ Bad Day, Don’t Fuckin Speak

*Bad Day at work* MDI, 18+ Only! Suguru usually being loving when you two have sex, has an exceptionally challenging day, as he finds out Satoru deleted all of the contract agreements for an account Suguru was supposed to have signed today.

Psa: rough sex, degrading, calling names, P in V, unprotected sex, blowjob, biting, pinching, ass slapping. Fluff at the end okay okay

Word Count: <1750+

No proofread! Like, reblog! Follow me on X (Twitter) 🫶🏻

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suguru was always loving when it came to sex. He was always gentle, and patient. Knowing it always took you a little bit longer to adjust, especially to his size. Suguru the very loving husband of yours, always listening to you about your day, and cuddling up to you on the couch. Watching some tv show he would never pick for himself. But he knows how much you like it, so he didn’t really care.

You had texted him asking him what he wanted for dinner, not getting a response. Suguru was always good about responding, you had even seen that he read it, so why didn’t he respond? You just figured maybe he was just a little busy. Well a little busy was an understatement, he was extremely, ungodly busy. Satoru his co-founder of a company they built together. Sponsoring new celebrities in campaigns, and dealing with marketing, publicity, things like that. Satoru had by accident trashed the contract for a new model they were signing on, TODAY! Satoru didn’t realize the papers he deleted from his computer, had been the PDF that Suguru sent to Satoru. Of course Suguru could have simply printed it again, but they were in front of the new model as Satoru realized not only did he shred the physical copy, thinking it was the draft, but he deleted the PDF. Suguru had to pretty it up, saying they have been having some unfortunate technical difficulties, as Satoru’s laptop had crashed. And they were waiting on his new one to arrive. Making some bogus excuse that everything was done through Satoru computer. Rescheduling the visit for the following day.

“What the fuck Satoru!” Suguru yells, “You had one fucking job!” Suguru hisses, “man it’s okay, they’ll come tomorrow.” Satoru says, sipping his iced caramel frappe. Suguru knocks it out of his hand, making Satoru finally stand up mad. “HEY! THAT WAS LIKE $7!” Satoru exclaims, “YEAH AND THAT CONTRACT DEAL WAS $3M THAT WE CAN POSSIBLY LOSE BECAUSE OF YOUR INCOMPETENCE! You realize they are modeling for the top designer brand in 2 weeks, if he doesn’t sign that deal, WE GET NOTHING!” Suguru yells.

Moral of the story, Suguru was fucking fuming still. He walks in the door, and you hear him. Perking up, excited to see your lovely husband. You made his favorite food, Zaru soba! “Hey baby!” You say smiling, going up to him for a kiss, he brushes past you, causing a frown on your face. You aren’t used to him being upset, quite frankly you had never seen Geto this mad.

You’ve seen him frustrated but never to the point where he brushed past you. “Hey, Suguru. What’s wrong?” You say walking up to him, as he’s walking down the hall to your shared bedroom. No response. “Suguru.” You say again, getting worried. “Suguru Geto!” You shout. You weren’t one to shout, but he was just not listening. He turns around, and gets close to your face, you can see his face is red as a tomato, and he looks like he’s about to burst.

“Quit fucking calling my name. Can’t you see I want to be left the fuck alone.” He says through gritted teeth. You didn’t know what to say, your eyes start swelling up in tears. Your husband had never spoken to you that way. He turns away, walking into the bedroom, walking into the bathroom slamming the door.

You sit on the edge of the bed, feeling that lump in your throat. He finally gets out the shower, You hear him on the phone, with who you’re guessing is Satoru.

“Quit fucking calling me. You’re the last person I want to speak to. You fucked up my whole day, now I have my wife crying because I’m so angry at you!” He yells, “Oh fuck you Satoru. Suck my cock!” Suguru yells before you hear silence. You’re guessing he hung up. He opens the bathroom door, and the light from the bathroom door is showing Suguru the tears down your cheek. “Su-Suguru.” You whimper, “Y/N, no.” He puts his hand up gesturing he doesn’t want to hear anything. “I want silence. I don’t want to hear anything but my cock in your mouth, and your pussy. Do you understand?” He hisses, walking up to you, gripping your hair to have you look up at him. “Do you understand?” He repeats, you nod. Tears streaming down your face, you had never seen this side of him, so you didn’t know if you should feel horny or scared. Honestly you were a mix of both, feeling your nipples harden.

Suguru takes his towel off, exposing his hard member. Bringing your face down, tapping his swollen tip on your lips, his way of telling you to open the fuck up. You open your mouth, taking in his swollen cock, feeling his hands lace behind your head, into your hair. Throwing his head back, feeling a relief already. “Fuck yes.” He moans, “deeper.” He pushes himself deeper into your mouth, feeling his cock in your throat. Your gagging, drool coming out of your mouth, and tears streaming down. “Suck, you slut.” He hisses, as much as this should be hurting your feelings right now, you were so wet from this. You had always wanted Suguru to sometimes turn off that sweet loving husband, and just fuck you like a whore. You start to squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself get wet. “Spread your legs.” He demands, watching you spread your legs. “Touch yourself.” He adds. You reach down, pulling your panties to the side, feeling your juices instantly touch your fingers, you start to rub your clit, moaning on his cock, as he thrust it in and out of your mouth. “give me your fingers, the one in your cunt.” He demands, you take them out, lifting your hand up to him, he leans down, still have your face pushed against his cock, he sucks your fingers. “You dirty fucking whore. Wet from sucking my cock. Is this what you want? For your pretty little mouth to get fucked?” He groans, face-fucking you. “Answer me!” He hisses, you nod, as you still have his cock shoved down your throat, feeling yourself about to pass out from the lack of oxygen. Finally he cums, you feeling it going down your throat, he pulls out. And you’re coughing, catching your breath. “Are you fucking crying still?” He asks, you nod no, wiping your tears.

Next thing you knew, he had your panties across the room and your shirt was somewhere. He was biting you all over, leaving love bites all over. Not caring if someone will see it. “Suguru-“ you moan out, “what did I fucking say!?” He slams his fist on the bed, your head right next to where he just slammed, “what did I say!?” He questions angrily, “y-you s-said th-that you-you did-didn’t want to hear-he-hear me sp-speak.” You stutter, “Don’t make me tell you again, do you understand?” He hisses in your ear. You nod.

“Turn over.” He demands, you were taking to long, he flipped you over himself, arching your back for you, putting you in the position he wanted, he wanted to fuck you from behind. you didn’t mind this position, but you loved to see his face, and he loved to watch you cum. But today, he didn’t want to look at you, he wanted to look at your pussy pull him in, and cum around him. He slapped your ass, as your knees got weak, “keep your back arched.” He demands, “yes sir.” You say. You weren’t supposed to speak, but the yes sir was allowed after he heard it. “I’m going to let that one slide, since you sounded so fucking sexy saying that.” He whispers in your ear. You had to control your moan, as you felt him sink into you, he was kissing your g-spot so perfectly. He starts thrusting, not even giving you time to adjust, he leans forward, fondling your titties, pinching your nipple. Causing a yelp come out of your mouth, he leans back, back straight, he slaps your ass hard. “Shut the fuck up.” He says sternly.

You are in pure bliss right now. You are loving every minute of this. Loving every minute of being fucked so stupid. He is thrusting faster and faster, slamming into you, with no remorse. He puts his hand on your clit, and starts to rub it fast, wanting you to experience a high level orgasm as well. Because no matter how angry he is, he would never let you go without being satisfied. He loves you to much to do that to you. At this point you forget the whole no sound rule, you are moaning out, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming” you moan, “fuck. Yes. Cum around this cock.” He grits his teeth. Finally releasing his seed into you. And you cum around his cock. He’s slowing down his pace, he pulls out, flipping you on your back. Inserting his cock back in, rocking his hips back and forth again. Feeling you twitch and hug his cock so perfectly, causing a second orgasm to erupt from you, and a third for him. He watches your face as you cum around his cock, his favorite sight. “You look so beautiful when you cum baby.” He kisses your lips, you kissing him back. “Sugu.” You moan, latching your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry baby, was I too rough?” He asks, kissing your cheek. “Yeah but it felt goood, it’s okay Sugu.” You say kissing him back. “Just, don’t ever ignore my kisses again.” You pout. “I’m sorry baby, I had a terrible day. I needed to fuck out the steam. I should have been gentle.” He says caressing your neck, rubbing the parts he left marks on. “It’s okay baby, I liked it.” You say running your fingers through his hair. “Oh did you?” He smirks, feeling his cock harden up again. All of a sudden he grabs his phone and takes a video of his cock entering into your cunt, and sends it to Satoru saying, “Someone was a victim to your incompetence today. Handle the account tomorrow, I won’t be coming in.” He presses send and throws his phone to the other side of the bed, “I’m gonna fuck you all night princess.” Suguru smirks.

Suguru surely didn’t show up to work, and Satoru did exactly what Suguru told him to. Fearing that when Suguru comes in, he might just beat his ass.

#suguru geto smut #geto smut #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #jjk geto #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto #getou suguru x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto

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