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wonderlandsakura · 1 year

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Mandalorian season 3 episode 2 spoilers ahead

THE SYMBOLISM OF THE MYTHOSAUR SCENE OMG

Our gorgeous, pathetic, unwilling baby (Din, not Grogu) slips and falls all the way down the deep end (like he did into becoming the Mand'alor, he took a few steps in and then got completely sucked into it, omg) and falls unconscious (cause you can't let him know he's the chosen one, he'll completely freak out and run away), the poor dear.

The unconscious part is also potentially symbolic of him not knowing what he's doing, not knowing how much of a Mand'alor he is being, and plainly just not knowing what he's doing, btw.

Anyway, Bo-Katan (who is not unconscious and also actually knows what she's doing and how to lead as a Mand'alor and that Din is super the chosen one) comes down to get him and carry him up to the surface (cause gosh is he going to need help, and she's the most uniquely qualified for the job) ...

And they (Bo-Katan) see a mythosaur.

THEY SEE A FUCKING MYTHOSAUR.

AND YOU KNOW WHAT??!!

The mythosaur cracks open it's eye to look at them.

LIKE IT'S WORRIED ABOUT THEM (din), LIKE IT'S GIVING THEM (din) IT'S BLESSING, LIKE THEY (din) ARE NOT SOMETHING BENEATH IT, LIKE THEY (din) ARE WORTH IT'S ATTENTION

IT'S FUCKING AMAZING

(btw, it's also saying "yes I'm real Bo-Katan, so please help the pathetic mess that is our Mand'alor out, cause yes, he does actually deserve the title, and is in fact the actual chosen one, come to bring a new age your people, cause I do actually exist and approve of the idiot, thank you very much")

So yeah.

Also the fact that Din's super strict Creed is actually called the Way of the Mand'alor??? And he actually follows it super strictly, like without it he's nothing??? And only breaks it for the benefit of Children, which in Mandalorians Creed "are the Future"?????

LIKE HOW MUCH MORE FORESHADOWING DO YOU WANT TO PUT INTO THIS DUDE (it's like wolf wolf, son of wolf, if you know what I'm talking about)

More importantly, HOW MUCH MORE INFORMATION DOES HE NEED BEFORE HE REALISES HOW MUCH OF A NIGH PERFECT MANDALORIAN HE IS????

Like.

1) Way of the Mand'alor

2) Children are important above all else

3) full beskar armor (which is, btw unpainted, a blank slate, a new age, it's perfect!) (1st tenant of Creed)

4) incredibly skilled as a warrior/hunter/provider, is an actual beroya, for his tribe and people, even those who are practically strangers to him (Bo-Katan, Boba) (5th tenant)

5) respected by the head clans of the 3 factions (they would come if he called them, and since he's the Mand'alor, that's the 6th tenant for them)

6) willing to listen, respect, and learn about the creed and history of those who follow different ways (very good, since Mandalorian society previously collapsed partially because they were arguing over whose creed was the best)

7) Would fight, kill, go out of his comfort zone, and even violate his creed for his family (Grogu) (3rd tenant)

8) Can speak not just Mandalorian, but also a variety of other languages, including at least one form of sign (very useful for communicating with his scattered people (2nd tenant)

9) literally teaching Grogu about mandalorian culture now that he knows he accepts him as family in return (4th tenant)

10) follows the resol'nare (the 6 tenants) in his every action, seemingly without having to think about it

11) being re-baptised in the living waters (like Jesus) (btw the symbolism of being reborn again as he is being denoted as the person who will bring a new age)

12) the Fucking Mythosaur

Like Din? Get some self-esteem. And self-care while you're at it.

Anyway I can't wait till Saturday (today's a Thursday for future readers and those across the world) when I can continue watching Din stumble (or fall) deep deep deep into Mand'alor-hood unwillingly and unknowingly

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adventurer-gearld · 1 year

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Reply to t00nyah

:))) :]]] Yes! They are in fact are siblings! With a 5 year difference.

More things under the cut

A photo taken the day before Four goes to the fancy school away from home! Four is 14 in this photo, Neo is 9. This is the last time they see each other for nearly 7 years. Original timeline and AU timeline.

Four is unknowing of how Neo is faring after cutting contact, because their phone broke and they got a new number. Neo is unknowing as their sibling isn’t picking up the phone and ignoring their calls.

Four is getting no visions of Neo, and Neo only got a dream saying they’ll meet Four again. Neither of them have any clue what the other is doing. Except Little Buddy. He has been completely unable to draw this and have it make sense to Neo.

Four and Neo’s relationship was quite close. Four didn’t want Neo to have to bear the brunt of their parents expectations, so they took it, but there’s only so much a person can take. Neo never ended up resenting Four for leaving, they did at first, but as they got older it made more sense, and they just wanted to meet them again. Hopefully they will, but clearly they aren’t in Splatsville, and it’s rather hard to get to Inkopolis from the city of anarchy.

#my art #splatoon #splatoon au #time travel au #agent 4 #Neo agent 3 #new agent 3 #deep cut dislikes Neo’s parents immensely #any attempt to force Neo back is met with resistance from the most popular musicians in Splatsville #the parents eventually leave it be with threats and lots of cursing #fun fact!#salmon do not have sex!#the female with lay the eggs #and the male fertilizes it after they are laid #and then both the male and female die #the Babies when hatched with often eat the parents for nutrition #fun facts with Gearld 👍

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space-gutz · 1 year

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was anyone going to tell me that the egg baby in sonic prime runs on all fours like an animal or was I just going to have to see that with my own eyes right now

#PISSING AND SHITTING #nothing could have prepared me to see that #he's like a little RAT #WHY DID THEY ANIMATE THAT #its so funny but wow I hate it so much!!!!#very cursed #loving this show #sonic prime #sonic prime spoilers #sort of #eggman #egg baby #sonic prime eggman baby #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sth

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artific3r · 2 years

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This was a fic I wrote a long ass time ago (I'm not even into dsmp anymore) but honestly? It's not bad. Here.

Well, Shit.

A/N: this au has been bouncing around in my head for weeks so have a fic i guess. I'll either never talk about this again or not shut about if for the next few weeks so we'll see. (I never spoke about it again lol)

Characters: c!Karl Jacobs

Warnings: Death mention, cursing.

Karl is in the past again. And the specifics don't matter, because he wrote them all down anyway, but at the moment he's running.

They seemed so scared, that person, when they'd handed him that thing and begged him to protect it, and Karl supposed their fear was granted seeing as those things, whatever those things were, had torn them to shreds. They had asked him to keep it safe.

Karl realized they had never told him their name.

The weight of the thing in his arms was obvious to him but the weight of what that thing was hadn't truly settled in yet, and he was more focused on the path ahead of him, jumping over either roots or rocks maybe it was shattered debris, he didn't really know, he just ran forward and tried not to fall.

Stone. There was a wall, a sheer rock cliff face shooting up from the ground, and he was cornered.

It was now that he had a second to realize where he was, it was a forest, dark oak or maybe spruce, as he turned and watched those things barreling toward him. And shielded the thing in his arms as he braced for impact.

The first sign that he was ok was that he wasn't, well, dead. Or even in pain for that matter, which he would have expected considering the screaming that preceded being killed by those things.

The second sign was the fact that the rain was gone. He hadn't even registered it but had been raining, and well, it wasn't anymore, and as a matter of fact, he was completely dry, which was a miracle considering he wasn't wearing his sweater.

Where was his sweater?

Right, he had wrapped it around the thing in his arms to keep it safe. His sweater was fine, as were the two of them.

The third sign that he was ok was that everything was white.

Well, he supposed, not everything was white, but the vast majority of this place was. Well, except for the wither rose and book sitting before him. He opened the book and the Inbetween did not seem happy.

NO OTHER BEINGS ARE ALLOWED HERE BUT YOU

GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET THEM OUT GET THEM OUT GET THEM OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT

And Karl vanished.

He saw solid stone walls around him and knew he was back on the SMP.

That was good. That meant they were safe, at least for the time being.

The two of them were safe. The baby was safe.

. .

. . .

Oh.

Well...

Shit.

Karl was holding a baby.

#karl jacobs #dream smp #dream smp karl #dsmp au #karl finds a baby tag #death mention #the title is hilarious and my brain is huge #tw cursing #cursing tw #this shit is old we didn't even know what the other side was. las nevadas hadn't happened yet. the egg wasn't a thing I'm pretty sure #or it had just started #sam wasn't evil. the thing with ponk hadn't happened yet #i dont think foolish was on the smp yet

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tacticalprincess · 18 days

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your writing is literally incredible 💗 may I please request könig who puts his big warm hands on your stomach when you have ovulation cramps?? bonus points if he fucks you from behind at the same time because you’re so needy :((

cw breeding kink | i couldn’t write this without it... sorry

who needs heating pads when you have a mountain of a boyfriend with hands so big they engulf the entire expanse of your lower belly? that’s what könig thinks, at least, when you mention being too achey and sore to get up and heat one up in the microwave. instead of doing it for you like you requested, he’s reaching under you from behind where you’re laying on your tummy, leg perched to the side, as he wraps his hands around your womb, emanating heat from his body and soothing the pain.

“you know why this hurts, ja?”

“my ovaries hate me?” you complain sarcastically.

from behind you, you feel könig shake his head. “your eggs are being released. just right here.” he applies more pressure to the spot, the action making your cunt pulse between your legs. “your body’s getting you nice and primed to take a seed.”

you whimper involuntarily at his words, pushing your ass back against his broad body and feeling his hard dick twitch in response through his sweats. he reaches down with just one of his hands to feel inside your panties, cursing under his breath at how wet you are. it’s fascinating to him how you’re never not wet during this week.

“see, schatz? einweichen. this pussy’s crying to get filled.” he hums nonchalantly, his thick finger gathering slick from your tight hole and using it as lube to rub at your puffy clit. “poor thing, and so empty. no wonder you hurt.”

you shamelessly beg for him, knowing his fingers won’t be enough to satiate the emptiness you feel in your pulsing hole. you need something bigger, something you know can stretch you out and fill you to the brim.

“don’t know if i should. could fuck a baby into you if i’m not careful…” he sounds contemplative, though his hips are grinding down against your ass, knees planted on either side of you. “it’s the perfect time for it, and my sperm tends to like it in here. won’t want to leave… might catch.”

“please, köni, don’t care. it’ll help the— with my cramps.” you babble for any excuse, grinding down against the fingers shoved into your soaked panties. you’re overheating at this point, and if you don’t get him inside you, you might scream.

a wave of relief temporarily drowns out your desperation as you feel his hands leave your body to pull his pants down, returning to pull your wet panties to the side shortly after.

“shh, that’s enough talking, hase.” he coos sweetly once he bottoms out, slipping inside so easily. he holds you up by your lower tummy until you’re hovering just above the bed to fuck deeper into you, his pelvis slamming against your ass on every thrust. “gonna give you what you need, ja? ein kind. make the pain go away.”

#JUMPED to respond to this #konig cod #konig x reader #cod smut #konig call of duty #konig smut #konig x you #konig x y/n #könig x reader #konig mw2 #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig smut #könig call of duty #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #cod x reader #tw breeding kink

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lymtw · 29 days

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Late night phone calls with Toji where he's practically buzzing at the sound of your voice. Nothing special about the conversation, but there's just something so delicious about the static on the line merging with your voice. You sound kind of tired and you're sighing just enough to drive him a little crazy.

You have a history of having to fight to get him to listen, regardless of how many times he says that he is listening. You test him by asking questions about what you just talked about and he gets a solid 90%. Most of the time...

This time he wasn't getting anything. It's been a couple days since you last went over to Toji's so he was missing you a little more than usual tonight. But, you called later at night like you usually do to tell him about your day. You'll never get over the way he answers the phone, the most spine tingling hello you've ever heard, each time better than the last, save for when you call him after he falls asleep and he answers in that raspy voice that shakes you to your core. But, as said before, he was getting nothing and you were starting to wonder if he was losing track of what you were telling him.

"Toji? Are you still listening?"

"Yeah, keep talking, princess. Tell me everything."

So you keep going because you believe him, only to be interrupted a second time by something that sounds like a shudder.

"Toji?"

He takes a second longer to answer this time.

"Mm... yeah, doll?"

"You okay? We can go to sleep if you want. I'll see you tomorrow anyway."

His hand is wrapped around his cock, pumping himself as you keep talking. You're kindly offering an out for this phone call. He must be tired. You think maybe that's why he's not talking as much.

"Don't feel pressured to keep talking. If you're tired, you're tired baby. We have all day tomorrow."

He wants to hear your voice as he keeps going, though. If you knew what was happening, would you judge him or would you egg him on?

"Don't worry about it, mama," he groans. "Just really like the sound of your voice 's all. Come on. Talk to me. What else did you do today?"

So you tell him about how you went shopping for a new dress to go out in.

"Wanna see me in it tomorrow? Or should I save it for a more formal date?"

He shudders once again, his abs quivering as he focuses on collecting the pearls of precum that endlessly form on his tip and smearing it all over his shaft. You have him thinking about the last time you wore a dress around him. It ended up being bunched up at your waist as he fucked the soul out of you in the men's bathroom of a restaurant.

"Think you should," he pauses and clears his throat, muttering an unintelligible curse away from the phone. He is seconds away from busting. "Save it for when I can take you out... we're staying in," he pants. "I'm gonna fuck you tomorrow, doll."

Your face goes so red, and you can't help but giggle to yourself despite the rush of nerves that invaded your body.

"Gonna be good for me, right? You're gonna sleep over and let me play with you?"

At this point you feel like rolling off your bed to cool yourself down on the cold floor.

"Of course, Toji. I'm all yours."

You can hear heavy breathing laced with the static on the line.

"Oh fuck... say that again, princess. Again for me."

You've caught on to this freak's game. So you do what you can to make him drip like honey.

"All yours, Toji. Yours to fuck, yours to choke, yours to gag. I'll let you have your way with me tomorrow." You grin as you hear the muffled moans on the other end. "You can put it whereeever you want and i'll take it for you. Just promise you'll fill me up, yeah?"

With that Toji cums so hard that he's rocking his hips against the mattress, his back arching in pleasure and a barrage of expletives are released. He sounds strangled, out of breath on the other end, and all you can do is laugh at the silence that takes over the line. You know he's laying there with his eyes closed, trying to come back to reality.

"You dead, baby?"

"Fuck you," he says, breathlessly, a lazy grin on his face. "I'll see you tomorrow. Better not be lying 'bout what you said earlier."

"Goodnight~"

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months

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≡;-꒰ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝑩𝒆𝒅

── mdni sexual content ; little headcanons with the boys that i desperately needed to get off my chest. inclusive of vaginal sex, pet name usage, dirty talk ✨

caleb would always lose all sense of self-control whenever he's with you, thoughts of taking it easy, thoughts of taking things slow, all quickly disappearing the minute he slips into your gummy walls. he's always trying his best to be gentle, always trying his best to attune his actions to your wishes... but you're too addicting. it's hard for him not to be selfish; he has so, so much pent up for you. deep groans and broken curses would fall from his lips in a constant lull, sometimes calling you doll, sometimes calling you pretty, sometimes calling you baby—but the ever-present pipsqueak will always be there. and it will drive you insane.

rafayel would always find every moment to tease you, singsongy voice forming dirty words of affirmation up against your ear. "yeah" would be a frequent—things like "yeah? you like that?" or "fuck, yeah, just like that." interchangeably, and whether he's hovering over you or splayed out beneath you, his smirk would be present and unrelenting. he'd ramble on and on, never shutting up about how wet you are, how well you take his cock, how pretty you look unraveling for him... finding every way to get you riled up, every nickname to make you clench tighter around his length. one cutie, buttercup, miss bodyguard, princess... and you're easily a mess.

xavier's voice would be soft and articulate, hot against your skin even with his cock buried inside you. his hands would rarely stray from your body, caressing you, touching you, making you feel good. and he'd love burying his face into the crook of your neck, whispering praises, calling you angel, calling you princess, sometimes slipping out a "my lady" as a force of habit. there would be soft murmurs of how good you feel, a whimper or a whine falling from his lips every now and then. and "i promise..." becomes a staple in his vocabulary—"i promise i'll be so good for you", "i promise i'll make you feel so, so good", depending on if you're bouncing over his cock, or he's rolling his hips against yours.

zayne would have you wrapped around his finger, wrapped around him—literally and figuratively. you'd seek to obey his every word, his tone of voice as icy as his evol, only to contradict the warmth of his body radiating off of yours, the warmth in his gaze sending spikes of heat down to your very core. he'd be commanding with you, direct—never stuttering, never cursing, the only hint of a loss in composure being the way his ears would redden, his body shuddering over how your cunt would flutter around his length, cock twitching deep in your heat, hips roughly snapping up to yours. but his words are so gentle. he'd call you sweetheart, guide you to look at him, egg you to voice out anything you felt—"use your words, sweetheart. let me hear you."

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

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gorejo · 8 months

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▸ CONFESSIONS IN SECRET. - GETO SUGURU

synopsis: suguru always wears an extra hair tie. and when he’s confronted about it, with it oddly stretched out, loosely hanging from his wrist, he’ll always respond that it was for him. no one has seen him using it, not even his closest people, all except one.

content: 2.3 k words. afab!reader, this was genuinely not proofread, just wrote on the whim because it's geto suguru. she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, mentions of fingering, cunnilingus, reader is suguru's girlfriend, pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). but very brief forbes30!gojo cameo. minors do not interact.

Geto Suguru has long hair — his most prominent trait just after his gentle smile. His hair is gently combed through every morning, each strand healthy and shiny, and it's carefully taken care of as he puts his hair into a half bun or fully tied — a day-to-day preference depending on how manageable his hair is.

"What's the mood for today?" announcing your presence, crossing your arms, as you leaned against the wall, watching your boyfriend style his hair — shirtless and toned, with his sweats loose at his waists, the pretty sculpture of his body making you gulp down your saliva.

"Good morning, princess," Geto gently chuckled as he finished up his hair, his arms flexing with every move of his fingers, "you feeling okay?" he asked looking through the mirror, triceps deliciously caved as he leaned forward against the counter.

"a little tired, but nothing I can't handle," you groaned, taking a step towards him, "woke up because the bed felt cold," you pouted into his warm back.

"'m sorry," Geto stated as he turned around to cup your face, your arms automatically moving towards his neck, pulling him closer to you, "let me make it up to you with breakfast?" he suggested as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"breakfast as in?" Playfully eyeing him as you chased after his soft lips, hearing him lightly groan into your mouth as his hands traveled down the scope of your back, finding refuge to mound your ass.

Teasingly pulling at his lower lips, you wanted more of him. Your appetite for your boyfriend will never satiate, especially when he looked so damn fine with his eyes half-lidded, brows furrowed as his breaths huffed while the tent in his sweats pressed against your lower stomach.

You did feel hungry, a nice toast with eggs and coffee sounded delightful — well that is, just after having the boyfriend special in bed.

You stopped the kiss for a brief moment, your voice sultry yet almost whining, "let's go back inside Suguru —"

But rudely stopping you, he suddenly pressed his finger against your lips, smirking as if this didn't faze him.

"breakfast as in food, angel," smiling as he shook his head, "your stomach is grumbling, I can feel it."

"But Suguru," you whined, tiptoeing to press your lips against his, desperate for more, only to be met with him pushing you out of the restroom, arms tight around your waist as he led you out with your feet on top of his.

And waddling to the kitchen, laughing as he pressed light kisses all over your face, softly biting your cheeks as the padding of his feet tapped against the cold kitchen floor, "you can have me later, I promise," he reassured.

Another fact people can’t seem to miss, aside from his gentle appeal and the softness of his voice — the one that makes all the ladies simply swoon when he passes by — is that Suguru always wears a black hair tie on his wrist, one that is a little different his usual.

In public, he’s never used it but throughout the days, it's become noticeable that the band's been slightly stretched out. People simply assumed it was a spare one for himself.

But occasionally he’ll get asked if he carries around that hair tie for his girlfriend, teasing if it's a subtle territorial mark to show that only but a prepared and dutiful boyfriend, like Suguru, would do. He’ll simply laugh it off, the sweet and calming one that makes his eyes form delicate crescent moons,

“Nah, it’s for me,” he’ll answer while lightly squeezing your hand and smiling — a deliberate move.

“But I’ve never seen you use it,” his best friend commented, not minding much attention to the conversation besides scrolling through his phone, thighs comfortably spread out whilst chewing on some candy on the couch.

And suddenly, as if he's thought of a valid idea, Gojo moved his sunglasses down, just to look at you while pointing his half-eaten candy towards your boyfriend, one cheek already full of sweets,

“Be careful, it's guys like Suguru you want to keep an eye on,” Satoru chimed, “it’s the perfect scenario don’t you think? A handsome guy gives a needing girl a hair tie, and boom she falls in love with him? Who’s to say she won’t be a crazy one, in this day and age,” Gojo shuddered at the thought, his eyes going back to his phone screen.

"so is that why you're still single, Satoru," Geto rolled his eyes as he smirked, "because people think you're crazy? or is it because you're still hung up over your ex from I don't know, eight years ago?"

"your boyfriend is being so rude right now," Gojo pouted, sulking on the couch as he murmured, "... and fuck off, I'm not..."

"for someone worth that much, you sure think so simply and live in such delusion," Geto countered, "then why are you always trying to snoop through Shoko's phone?"

"I do not!" Satoru's cheeks heated, sitting upright to softly mumble, "you talk so loud for someone who was on the same boat as me not too long ago."

“At least I got off it, while you—”

"be nice, Suguru" you chuckled, squeezing Geto's thigh as you smiled at his counterpart sulking on the couch, "It takes a crazy to realize one, don't you think Satoru?"

Satoru deadpanned, "gasp, you're even worse than the devil himself."

Geto chuckled as he crossed his arms, his gaze briefly moved towards you before closing his eyes to swallow his saliva, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he released a heavy breath out through his nose, “Though I appreciate you thinking I’m handsome, Satoru, it’s just good for the hair —"

and taking hold of your hand that was placed on his thigh, interlocking his rougher fingers with yours, "doesn’t break any strands, that’s all.”

"sure," rolling his eyes as he slouched into the couch, "it's just good for the hair," Gojo begrudgingly mimicked his best friend.

"I bet you use it for something kinky," Gojo playfully snickered.

But Geto Suguru was no liar.

Sure, he wasn’t the most open about his feelings, occasionally throwing in harmless white lies to avoid confrontation or sappy conversations. And nor was he willing to share his life with just about anyone. But when it came to things that dealt with you, well he liked things to be in private — and who can blame him?

Because most definitely that hair tie was for him.

But unknown to Satoru, Geto impatiently shook his thighs, fingers tapping against the couch, his thoughts running wild as he tried closing his eyes, his mouth feeling dry as he caught a glimpse of you next to him. His thoughts, his primal desires always pointed to one thing alone — you.

Starting from the moment you entered his apartment, closing the door with his foot, he’ll have you pushed against the wall, quickly stripping you of your clothes as he kissed you all the way to his room. Hand placed behind your head, while the other cupped your face. you’ll always feel his breath starting to pick up through his nose when he was starting to get needy, longingly groaning into the kiss as he fell onto the bed with you.

“Fuck,” Geto hissed as he tried to unbuckle his belt, lips fighting to stay attached with yours as he tried to breathe, only to loosen up when he felt your reassuring hand — soft and gentle — travel down his chest, down to his buckle. Like it was your second nature, you loosen his pants, putting down the zipper as he pushed his pants off.

Most of the time, he’ll be able to strip off his clothes easily, just after skillfully taking off yours, taking no second to waste to get naked. But today he seemed rather more impatient — clumsy almost.

"I think I'm going to bust," Geto groaned as his lips chased after yours, brows furrowed as he tried to take off his cotton shirt.

"w-why are you in such a rush today, I'm n-not going anywhere, " you moaned out as his lips trailed down your neck, your fingers combing through his hair, tugging as you felt his teeth gently mark up your skin.

"forgive me, sweetheart" trailing his tongue up to your jaw, his arms caging you in, his breath breezing against your heated cheeks, "just been bricked up ever since Satoru wouldn't shut his mouth."

His lips were pressed against yours, his soft tongue finding entrance into your mouth, muffling your moans as you cupped his face, his teeth gently pulling your lower lip as he broke the kiss.

"don't think I didn't see you clench your thighs when he was talking, princess,” suguru teased.

And when he was needy, pupils dilated and dark, where his voice was low and gravely despite holding the same sweetness, his hold on your body more firm and leading, you know you'll have to stuff your face with a pillow if he allows. If not, you’ll have to do whatever you can to quiet yourself as he makes his way down the valley of your naked breasts, holding your arms down as he places light kisses just below your mounds,

“Stay,” he’ll softly order, his breath tickling your skin, “let me hear you,” he’ll groan while mildly dry humping the mattress on his way down.

“Suguru,” you wontonly moaned out his name, the grip on your hands loosening as he concentrated in adoring the neglected portions of your body, the longing call of his name making his cock throb in his boxers.

“Nuh uh,” he’ll warn when your arms try to cover your face, “what did I say,” he’ll reprimand — never was Geto harsh, but his words always held weight through his gaze.

Seeing you listen, fisting the bedsheet for security, “That’s my girl,” he’ll whisper, his breath slightly hitching as he reveled at your naked mess.

God must surely exist if he created someone like you, Geto wondered as he licked his lips.

And kissing down your thighs, situating himself in between your legs as his tongue sloppily trekked down your skin, feeling your muscles tense and back arch at his touch, with his strong arms anchoring your hips down, he’ll place a sweet kiss on your hardened bud, closing his eyes as he hummed into the kiss,

“You taste so sweet, you know that?” Geto praised you, “wish you could just see what I can see,” your boyfriend murmured, his eyes fixated on your wet cunt before him, his mouth salivating like a starved animal just ready to swipe his tongue down your folds and really get to taste you — to devour you.

“Please,” you begged, “I want you.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he knowingly hushed, quickly getting on his strong thighs, the toned canvas of his chest and pectorals highlighted before you, as the light dentures of his hips that beautifully caved in with his muscles made your mouth dry as you appreciated his majestic figure, specifically as you watched his biceps curl up to his hair, to throw out his used hair tie to release his locks to fall handsomely down his chest.

“you’ll have me soon,” Geto teased as he quickly retied his hair, with that one, “just give me a second, pretty,” he stated just before swiftly lifting up your leg to kiss every fiber of your skin as he licked your ankle.

"Sugu—"

and quickly leaning down, hooking his large hands behind your knees to push down your thighs against your breasts, the softness of his bangs lightly brushing against the sides of your cheeks as he kissed your lips, his tongue licking against your lips, while your lungs burned for oxygen,

“Let me taste you a bit,” Geto managed to ask in between kisses, "I'll make it worth it."

Feeling you nod, yielding to him as you groaned into his mouth, feeling his hardened length throb against your pussy as he hovered over you.

“Atta girl,” Geto praised as he chuckled at your impatience, leaving a loving kiss to your forehead, “after this, I’m all yours.”

Geto knew you from inside and out. He knew exactly what to do to make you fold. What made you squeeze on his finger, the wetness of your pussy gushing as he thrust inside you, repeatedly hitting that spot. He’s identified the specific spots on your body that made your toes curl, and your sweet lips spread out as you angelically moan out his name. He’s gotten you figured you, but that has never stopped him from continually learning, continually searching for ways to make you cum even more, even harder.

So Suguru kisses you, trailing his tongue and lips to your neck as he purposefully groans in your ear while his thumbs rub circles on your hips, easing the tension building up, the coil in your stomach almost unbearable to soberly manage. so, your hands find refuge in his hair.

Your boyfriend smirks when he feels your fingers lightly scratch his scalp as you slowly tighten your grip on his hair the more he travels down your body.

And soon confronted with the same scene, like deja vu, he’ll blow on his precious cunt, glistening so prettily for him under the dull moonlight. He’s sure he can almost see his reflection through your wetness and his mouth salivates as he centers himself down in between your thighs, spreading out your folds as he hisses at the sight of your pulsing hole — so cute, so tight, so rightfully his.

"o-oh god, sugu," you mewled, your plush thighs pressing against his ears as he split you open with his strength, unwavering in his gentle dominance over you.

And he'll watch you as he latches his lips to fully enclose the space between you and him, his tongue messily swirling around your clit and his mouth sucking in all of you, while a trail of spit leaked down the corner of his mouth down his chin.

he’ll feel your trembling fingers tightly grip his hair as he furrows his brows at the pain, watching your back arch and breaths desperately hitch as you push yourself deeper into his mouth.

But Suguru doesn’t worry if you pull too hard, more so, he welcomes it.

Because again, your boyfriend was no liar.

The hair tie is good for the hair, it won’t break any of his strands at all.

comments: i couldn't get it out of my system thinking about geto having a special hair tie just for when he goes down on you — man really said, no distraction needed. LMAOOO imagine gojo finding out the reason why geto just casually wears it around, he'll absolutely die HHAHAHA

#ae.writes #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #darkmode.

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pseudowho · 13 days

Text

Operation: Babymaker-- Honeytrap/Maid Café

💜 💛 When it comes to trying for a baby, Nanami Kento always works overtime. And the reader had better be ready. 💛 💜

💜💛 You are sent undercover to a Maid Café on ovulation night, to Honeytrap a curse-user for capture and trial. Kento is pissed off, and he won't be letting anyone get away with this lightly.

💛💜Part 1 LINK HERE: A Trip to the Tailors

💛💜Part 2 LINK HERE: Benchpress

💛💜Part 3 LINK HERE: Ditch the Party...again

💛💜 Part 4 LINK HERE: Wet Dreams

Warnings: 18+ throughout, breeding kink, fertility/infertility discussion, jealous Kento, exhibitionism, use of toys

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Ships in the night.

Five days...a week...a week and a half. Kento couldn't take it anymore. The universe was conspiring against him. Against you. Work had meant you had barely shared a room together, let alone a bed. Kento hissed as he threw a file onto Yaga's desk, his neck prickling with rage...his balls heavy and untouched.

Another two months of negative tests had passed. He was still yet to see you, swollen and round with his seed. He was still yet to justifiably refuse for you to be sent on dangerous missions. His heart broke for every dribble of cum he saw trickle out of your pussy after he was finished with you.

Kento had taken to plugging you with his cock until he was ready to fuck you full of his seed again. Forcing your arse up on pillows, his cock still cushioned within you, Kento would overstimulate you with your vibrator. With you pinned and whimpering beneath him, his cock throbbing to life again inside those plush clenching walls, there was nowhere your shaking orgasms could suck his cum other than up.

Kento was obsessed. He could feel this desire to breed you becoming pathological. He read dirty doujinshi, full of x-ray panels of cocks spurting cum straight into empty wombs, soon swollen and bursting with load after load. He fisted himself with urgent strokes while reading these, your panties wrapped around his hand, moaning into your pillow with your smell, each time stopping just before he came...just in case you were to arrive home early. Which, you never did.

He cursed at the unreliability of ovulation tests, and grabbed your freshly discarded panties out of the laundry basket instead, fingering your discharge between forefinger and thumb, assessing for that egg-white stretch. You woke up more than once to a thermometer being snuck into your mouth, Kento logging your signs onto a spreadsheet, waiting for that golden ovulation algorithm to ping.

In a mad moment, he even considered buying a long syringe, so he could jack off, fill it, and then fill you with his cum while you slept, exhausted from your long days. Kento laughed at himself, horrified by such a truly insane, unthinkable notion...although...

Kento shut himself into his office, barely suppressing a groan at the thought of squirting his warm cum straight through your cervix. Kento crouched down on his haunches, cock beginning to ache and fatten, and raking his fingers through his neatly parted hair.

With a groan and a prayer, Kento pulled out his phone and messaged you. At first he was thrilled, his heart leaping with love when you text him back immediately...before the slow descent into madness began again.

Your knees. Your panties around them. Your fingers, dabbing clear, stretchy discharge between them.

Kento's cock had never stiffened so quickly in his entire life. He stood, silent. He left you on read. He couldn't possibly put thoughts as debauched as his into words, he thought, stalking through the corridors and paths of Jujutsu High until he reached his car.

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Kento arrived home with a spring in his step, listening to old, saved voicemails and voice notes you had left him, on his drive home. His cock ached, stretching against his tan trousers, weeping pre-cum. He planned to keep you up all night, but he'd graciously keep filling you, prone and sleepy (with your permission, of course), if you tapped out.

"Darling!" He called out, tossing his briefcase into the corner before slamming the door closed with his foot, "I'm home!"

Except, you weren't. He could feel that instantly, and a seed of horror sowed itself in his core, growing into something far meaner as he picked up the note you had left behind on the kitchen counter for him.

Kento's hand shook, crumpling the paper between strong fingers with a crunch.

He had had enough.

Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he dialled, waited...and spoke.

"Ijichi? Tell me where she is. Now, please."

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A brothel, barely masquerading as a Maid Café, skirting the borders of the entertainment districts and the red light districts. The usual Friday night haunt of a Curse user who had been evading capture for months. The dump where you had been sent to honeytrap him before he could escape again.

Kento had dressed to fit in, in a slim black suit and open-necked white shirt, expertly tailored, with just enough room to fit his blunt blade and harness beneath the jacket. He snaked through the dimly lit street, feeling the necking couples in alleyways, cutting through the lamp-illuminated steam billowing from noisy restaurants, until he reached some narrow stairs up, barely visible unless you knew what you were here for.

Ascending the steps, Kento could feel every curve of you on the side of his tongue, tracing your Cursed energy above the suppression of his own. He felt the Curse user, too, and Kento's face twisted into a snarl to feel such filth near you, on tonight of all nights--

"Table for one. Somewhere quiet."

The Maid demurred, smiling and simpering and barely a grown woman, Kento noted, keeping a respectful distance as she led him to his table. The lights were low enough to mute the wandering, clasping hands of the raucous tables of men. The rooms tucked to the side, bathed in red light and sin, were clearly for private commissions.

Urged into a plush corner couch, Kento turned the lamp away from himself, plunging him into shadow. He leaned back, eyes dipped low beneath dark glasses, waiting to taste you on the side of his tongue again. He accepted only a drink.

You had entered actor mode, not unfamiliar with the practice, having reeled in more than one unsuspecting Curse user over the years. In your black and white maid dress, stockings and suspenders, and tall high heels, the devilish fun of the hunt was still tainted by your lost evening with Kento.

You knew, bitterly, that you were ovulating, with sore plump breasts, that familiar low ache on one side of your belly, and your desperate need to be at home, being filled, instead of at a maid cafe trying to reel in this creep. You were doing a good job of looking like you were enjoying the feel of his cold hands creeping around your thighs. You giggled and slapped his chest when he nosed at your neck. Your new manager looked on approvingly, the new girl already raking in the customers.

Before long, you heard the other girls whispering to each other.

"--so hot, but he doesn't want anyone--"

"So what, like...he's just here for drinks? I don't get it--"

"--tried to sit on his lap and he told me I deserved better, what the hell does he mean--"

Intrigued though you were, you hardly had time to see what the ruckus was about. You were moving in for the kill, your flirtations paying off as your prey pressed a wodge of bills into the hand of the manager, and a couple of bills between your breasts.

"Let's go somewhere quiet, doll, yeah?"

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"...sir...I am sorry to interrupt your evening, sir...only, my girls have noticed that they don't seem to be to your liking. Is there anything I can do to make your visit more enjoya--"

"Your new girl," Kento offered, clipped as he interrupted. The manager raised his eyebrows, turning briefly to see you, being toyed with on the lap of another patron. The manager cleared his throat, his pocket full of a fat roll of bills, smiling awkwardly at Kento.

"I'm sorry, sir...it appears another guest has already taken a liking to--"

"How much?" Kento interrupted again, his deep, smooth voice gravitational, drawing the many wandering Maids closer to him. The manager faltered again, so Kento raised his voice, gripping his glass and swirling the bourbon within, amber in the warm distant light.

"How much," Kento enunciated, taking a long draw from his glass, with a hiss, "do you think your new girl is worth? Tell me."

The manager paused, his squirrelly little mind grasping another money-making opportunity. He offered Kento a figure. The girls jumped and squealed as Kento's hand tightened on his glass, breaking it, an audible crack in his hand.

"More," Kento pressed, dropping his glass to the table. Another figure was offered, higher this time. Kento bared his teeth, growling at the manager, leaning forwards on his knuckles as he began to stand.

"More." The manager stuttered, throwing out another, much higher figure.

"MORE." Kento roared, slamming a fist on the table, the café growing immediately silent around him. He thought he saw you try to turn your head in his direction, and a slither of violent disgust burned in his chest as he saw the Curse user grasp you to him by the neck, pressing a sloppy kiss to it.

The manager gawped at Kento, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Kento scoffed, pulling a thick stack of bills out of his pocket, passing it to one of the nearby Maids, without breaking eye-contact with the sweating manager.

"She's priceless," Kento hissed, hearing the Maids gasp behind him at the stack of bills. "So if you know what's good for you...they'll split that between them, and you will not interrupt me. Do we understand each other?"

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You held your Curse user prey by his collar, walking backwards on your heels, leading him to the red velvet room. He grinned at you, all spit and salacious, with cigarette-stained teeth, his hands wandering down to ruck up the skirt of your dress.

You pushed the door open with your heeled foot, pulling the Curse user in with you. The door swung closed behind him, and you had barely a moment to see the hulking, backlit red-spectre lying in ambush behind the door.

"Get your dirty fucking hands off my wife, or I'll snap your neck."

Picked up by the back of the collar, and tossed sideways like a ragdoll, the Curse user hit the wall beside the bed with a dull crack, out cold in under a second. Kento snatched a curtain-tie, binding the Curse-user's hands behind him. You flustered at Kento, as he stood.

"Kento-- what the hell are you doing her--"

You felt your chin gripped, firm but gentle, between Kento's thumb and forefinger. He glowered down at you, icy cold, his protectiveness frosted with jealous possession. His voice was calm, measured, manipulative.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here, little one? Dressed like that, no less...anyone would think you weren't married."

You swallowed, blushing and moving to defend yourself; "It's work, Kento, you know I--"

"--didnt mean anything by it? That it wasn't real?" Kento kept you gripped by the chin, slowly moving you back towards the high edge of the bed. You teetered on your heels, and he stabilised you, one thick arm looping around your waist, pressing you to him. You could feel the throb of his cock lengthening against your belly, and trembled.

"You're right..." Kento whispered, his breath ghosting your lips as he leaned down to trap you against the foot of the bed, caging you in, "...you couldn't possibly be satisfied by him, over me."

Kento fingered the lace edge of your stockings, the ruffled puff of your barely-there skirt. He shuddered against your lips, feeling his cock jump in his boxers.

"...seems a shame to waste this. Let's give these bastards a real show, shall we?" Kento hooked open the door with his heel, enough to hear the laughs and chatter from the café beyond.

After pressing a single, deep kiss to your lips, Kento dropped to his knees, glaring up at you in challenge. You found yourself glassy-eyed with anticipation, biting your lip, smiling as you teased the ruffles of your skirt up, to edge your lace stockings; "...do you like it?"

Kento bit, gripping you round the thighs and pressing them open with bruising force, aggressively nuzzling his face under your skirts. You squealed, laughing as he nipped and licked at you, growling against your mound and nuzzling your wafer-thin panties aside; "I love it...fuck, I love it, c'mere--"

Kento hooked your knees over his shoulders, looping his arms under your thighs to pin you against the foot of the bed. You heard a passing Maid outside your door gasp at the same time as you, at the sight of Kento kneeling and shoulder-deep in the ruffles of your skirts, your stockinged legs over his shoulders, his tongue plunging between your folds to taste you with an ecstatic moan.

"--oh god Kento-- yes yes yes please," you babbled, sinking your fingers into his hair and tugging at the roots. Kento murmured against your pussy, lubricating you with his spit, rolling his nose, tongue, and chin up and down the length of your folds, with all the fervour of a man deprived.

You heard whistles and catcalls from the café, and blushed, throwing one arm over your eyes, your pleasure building with the sloppy debauchery of Kento dipping his tongue into your entrance and nuzzling his nose firmly into your clit. He repeated this, patient, stroking his tongue over and around your clit with relentless wet flicks and sucks. When Kento gently nipped your clit between his teeth, you screamed in alarm, juddering and close to orgasm.

You clamped your thighs around Kento's head, muffling the sounds of the café around him. Reaching up two fingers, plunging them into your pussy and hooking them forwards towards him and the squashy g-spot in your cunt, Kento hooked you. Flicking his tongue from side to side over your clit, Kento chuckled against your pussy, his cock leaping within its confines.

"--in front of every-- Kento, fffuuuck please close them-- nnnngg cumming, cumming I'm cumming--"

You cried out in bliss, convulsing, gripping Kento's hair for dear life. In tandem with your twisting and mewling, you heard a chorus of cheers, hoots and clapping in the café, the men jeering and the women giggling. You shuddered, stunned, still wracked with pleasure.

"More?" Kento asked, nuzzling between your folds still, gripping you tightly to him so you couldn't clamber away across the bed. You babbled nonsense at Kento, slapping at the top of his head as his pulled his face away a little, and repeated, louder; "MORE?"

More cheers sounded from outside, and Kento grinned beneath your skirts, diving in to pleasure you again. You could barely stay upright, seeing stars, crunching around his head. The Curse-user began to stir on the floor to your right, as Kento dragged you across the coals to another stinging orgasm, so sharp after following your first so closely.

Kento came up for air to find you, flopped backwards, flushed and gasping on the bed. Slapping your thighs hard enough to make you squeak, Kento reached down and pulled you up by the back of the neck, pressing a long, familiar kiss to your lips. Tasting yourself on his mouth, you knew his next words to be true.

"Mine. Now, always, and especially-- fucking-- tonight," he emphasised each word with a brittle slap to your thigh. Flipping you over against the bed, face down and arse up, your heeled feet wobbling against the floor, Kento sighed, flipping your skirts up and admiring the view. He trailed his fingers against the top of your stockings, and the way the plush of your thighs peeped over them.

"Still no fucking baby-- and you fuck off to seduce another man tonight? The audacity," Kento purred, and you heard the clink of Kento undoing his belt behind you.

Kento was hooking his weeping, heavy cock out of his boxers just in time to see the Curse-user awaken, dazed and furious at Kento stroking his cock in preparation, over his Maid, strewn helplessly over the bed. Kento smirked, letting his Cursed-energy burst out with enough force to leave the man on the floor, and you on the bed, breathless with the stormy oppression of it.

"...you bastard-- that's my...I paid for her," the Curse user snapped, straining against his bonds. Kento laughed, bracketing you with his thick arms against the bed. His left hand grasped your left hand as he lined his aching cock up with your entrance. Kento slid your clasped hands, wedding bands clearly visible, across the sheets towards the Curse user.

"Yeah? I married her," Kento growled, kicking your heeled feet aside and fucking into you in one smooth movement, rocking his hips a few times against your cries, until he bottomed out with a roar. Kento pulled you to him by your hair, and smacked an affectionate kiss to the side of your face, before flinging you back against the velvet sheets.

He stood tall, gripping your hips to press your pussy close, and cracked his neck from side to side. He heard the enthusiastic crowd behind him, feeling a bizarre prickle of competition down his spine.

When Kento began thrusting into you with joyful abandon, you felt every vein, every throbbing ridge of him. Gripping the sheets for something, anything to stop you from being fucked up the bed, you screamed into the sheets with every hit. When you turned round to shoot Kento a blushing look of barely-sincere fury, Kento landed a stinging slap to your arse, and the Maids behind you giggled at the door.

Kento was lost in the moment, thrilled to be finally able to fill your belly, ecstatic with the knowledge that he was about to spill into you at just the right point in your cycle. His pleasure built fast, grasping your hips and slamming them back onto his cock, with rough slaps and grunts. He controlled himself for long enough to slip his hand beneath your mound, pinching and rolling your clit between his fingers while he whispered husky promises in your ear.

"--so fucking good-- waiting for me...haaah yes, take it-- good girl-- fuck a baby into you tonight-- you want that? Hmm? Is this-- is this it-- is this the--the one...fuck, not gonna last, cum with me, c'mon, please--"

Kento reached over you, his hand grasping you by the neck and jaw, craning your head backwards. He thought he'd be able to last, but when you sucked his forefinger into your mouth, your wet little tongue rolling over the pad as you suckled on it, Kento came with a slew of curses, a rough, alarmed bark.

Wildly overstimulated, you clenched around Kento as he pumped thick ropes of cum into you, feeling him tense and groan against your back with the blinding force of his orgasm. He continued to roll your clit, plugging you and panting until you came with a shaky little cry, your pussy tightening and sucking at his cock until he shivered with residual bliss.

Panting, coming down from your respective highs, you and Kento both turned to look at the Curse user on the floor. A noisy round of applause rang in from the café and you laughed despite yourself, wiggling against Kento.

"Lucky bastard..." the Curse user whined into the rug, "Piece of...piece of shit...should have been me--"

"Fuck off," rumbled Kento, "you're lucky you're not dead. Save it for trial."

You felt Kento rummaging in his pocket behind you. As he slipped his softening cock out of you, you squealed to find yourself hurriedly filled with a dildo, plugging you all the way to your belly. You groaned against the sheets, squirming, and Kento flipped your skirts down.

"...do you want to finish your shift?" He offered, voice full of mirth. You kicked back at him with one heeled foot as he laughed.

"If this is the one that gets us pregnant, I'll kill you."

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hairmetal666 · 8 months

Text

Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.

For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.

He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.

The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.

It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"

In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."

Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.

Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.

Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.

Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.

They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."

How can Eddie say no?

Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.

The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.

The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.

It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"

Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.

He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.

Eddie needs a break.

He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.

His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.

The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.

It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.

The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.

His eyes meet Steve's.

Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.

Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.

They're nothing to each other.

Never were.

By popular request: Part Two

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #oneshot #ficlet #angst #no happy ending #august #summer romance #heartbreak #mutual pining #based on a taylor swift song #i probably went overboard with the references to the lyrics #i'm not sorry #it's about the longing #august slipped away into a moment in time #whatever you do don't think about how the next time they see each other is Eddie pinning Steve to the wall in the boat house

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