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faexoxoxoxo · 1 month

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ᴵ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃᵐⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ...

SUMMARY: when people ask how you met satoru, your response would be “at a club,” and while he'd smile and nod along in agreement, there was much more to the story…

PAIRING: bartender! gojo satoru x actress! reader

TW: 18+, masturbation, obsessive satoru...

A/N: part of my bartender gojo series but can be read as a stand alone, mostly satoru being a lil creepy shit... I mean fanboy!

It all started with a magazine...

During his proud bachelor days, Satoru had been a faithful subscriber to various porn sites and magazines. It wasn't that he had any problems with finding women to satisfy his needs; on the contrary, women at the club were obsessed with him.

One charming grin paired with a wink was enough to get anyone flushed and ready to drop their panties for Gojo Satoru. It was all just way too easy, and with the lack of challenge, eventually he lost interest in hooking ups.

Now, this particular magazine was one of his all-time favorites, so imagine the dismay when instead of receiving the usual erotic magazine, he found the latest issue of Vogue delivered to his doorsteps. A simple error on the mailman's part, and further proof to Satoru, that one simply couldn't find good service anymore.

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

Sighing with disdain, Satoru flipped through the pages. “Boring, boring, boring…” He muttered, preparing to dump the magazine in the trash. With his flawless skin and exceptional looks, what did he need this for!?

Just as he was about to toss it away, a particular image caught his eye - it was a picture of you.

Nothing much about the ad was special, except for you. Who'd been featured prominently, wearing a two-piece swimsuit and, holding up a bottle of sunscreen, with a charming smile that screamed, “Buy this.” clever sales tactic, using a pretty girl like you to promote products, and god, you were pretty.

Satoru could feel his heartbeat pick up as he studied your face; the cheery red lipstick enhanced your features, he was hooked, and the growing tent in his pants further served as evidence of just how much.

Turns out Vogue wasn't so boring after all…

“Hmmm...” he moaned softly, sliding his hands down his sweatpants to massage his growing hard on, his eyes fixated on the outline of your curves, the way the blue bikini clung onto your tits, and how the pantie strings were tied in a cute little ribbon. It'd be so easy for him to rip the flimsy fabric off you...

“Fuck.” Satoru groans, squeezing the tip of his pre-dripping cockhole. He wasn't going to last long tonight...

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

Getting you out of his brain proved to be impossible. Your face was always there in the back of his mind during whatever mundane tasks he'd been doing. In the shower, eating breakfast, at work, heck, even his dreams weren't safe, you'd wormed your way in them with the same kissable lips and sweet smile; it was like he was back to being a teenager boy with a puppy crush.

Two weeks after failing to distract himself, his resistance cracked, and he looked up your name online.

You were an actress...

That was the first thing Satoru learned. Not yet a household name, but a rising star nonetheless, with a decent amount of people seeming to enjoyed your works.

The second thing he found after obsessively scrolling through your social media accounts was that you had a boyfriend, Naoya Zenin. Now that was a name Satoru was familiar with—the regular VIP asshole at one of his clubs.

Lips twisting into a disgruntled frown, he stares at a recently posted picture of you with Naoya. What did you even see in this punk? He was an egoistical little shit...

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

The following evening, Satoru sat down to watch the very first movie you had a leading role in, a typical light hearted rom-com. in it you'd played the role of a clumsy assistant, oblivious to the fact that your boss had a crush on you.

Dispute the predictable plot, Satoru couldn't bring himself to turn it off; his eyes locked onto your every expression as it shifted from serious to flustered during the romantic scenes. You were good Satoru admired despite not having much experience then, you obviously had versatility.

As the movie's plot advanced, so did the romance; simple handholding turned into kissing and making out...

Every time the camera zoomed in on you and your costar, Satoru gritted his teeth, a bitter taste raised to the back of his mouth, watching as you moaned into another man's lips. It was absurd, irrational, and he didn't even know you, so where was this anger coming from!? Why did he wish it was him on screan kissing you instead!? Why did his want to punch the fucker for touching you!?

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

Safe to say, Satoru never watched any more of your works in the romantic genre again; his heart couldn't handle seeing you with another man...

What he did watch were interviews; he'd spent hours getting through every single one from the time of your debut, memorizing all of your preferences, from your favorite color to how many kids you wanted to the most used brand of perfume, shampoo and lotion.

He even bought a batch of perfume for himself, spraying it on his pillows and sheets, and using the lotion as lube whenever he'd fucked his fists to your pictures.

Eventually He'd lost count of the nights he spent lazily stroking his aching cock and imagining it was your little hands, or pretty lips on him ... those fantasies always ended with his cum splattered on his abs and the sheets. Not that Satoru minded the mess; he just wished he could have you there with him instead, longing to know how it'd feel to stuff your tight holes full of his cum...

Soon enough, his phone's wallpaper changed from the blank blue to a picture of you from your photoshoot for Vogue; he even hung a few posters of you in his closet, a little shrine dedicated to his one and only.

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

It took some time for Satoru's best friends to notice his twisted obsession with you.

Shoko was the first one to point out how unhealthy it was, “At this rate you'll end up becoming a stalker, and getting charged for harassment.” she'd stated after finding out about his little collection.

“Just fuck a couple of chicks and get over this one, buddy.” Suguru advised, not knowing of his blue-eyed friend's various failed attempts at doing just that.

Satoru had tried to fuck someone.

The girl was one of his regular clients, tall, slim, hot, and pretty confident. She'd flirted with him a couple of times, and he'd indulged in it, thinking, why not?

He took her to dinner and had a fancy hotel room picked out just for the occasion. But when he finally had her in bed, he couldn't go through with it. She felt wrong; her eyes weren't the same shade as yours, her laugh wasn't like yours, and the way she talked annoyed him, so he left.

He'd tried this a few more times with different women, but it always ended the same.

The closest he'd come to getting his dick wet was in his private room in the back of the club. She had the same hair color as yours, and Satoru thought if he'd pretend hard enough, she could be you.

But then he made the mistake of moaning out your name instead of Sasha, or was it Simona ? ... well, he didn't remember, but whoever she was had left him with a harsh reality check, and a red slap mark on his face.

So He stopped trying after that.

The next woman Satoru fucked would be you or no one else. Sure, you had a boyfriend; sure, you didn't know he existed, and sure, there was a chance you never would, but he was convinced, with enough money and time, you would find your way to him.

Until then, Satoru would spend his nights imagining what it'd be like if he could get a chance to show you just how perfect he was for you, and pretending like you were his all the damn time . . .

✎⁠ I'm trying to get out of my writing slump so hopefully this was a good start (ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) asks are open for feedback and ideas so feel free to send me thoughts <333

✎⁠ likes, reblogs, and comments are very appreciated ♡

✎ the dividers are from @chachachannah header is from @chromesaine on pinterest

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mooshywrites · 3 months

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Mage Hand

Fem!Reader x Gale

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - This one is a lil more adventurous than my last. I’m getting more confident with my writing, so… expect degeneracy.

Word count - 3.2K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, established relationship (Gale proposal route), Vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, exhibition, spell sex??, creampie, biting, Unprotected sex, dirty talk, hidden sex, public-ish sex, typical Gale corniness

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“You might want to dampen those pretty little moans unless you want someone else to hear.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“How is this next bookshop going to be anything different than the last ten we’ve been to?” You whined, trudging after the brown haired wizard.

Gale had dragged you across the entire town, popping shop to shop to find more spell books. You tried your best not to be annoyed, but this was supposed to be your week.

”Last one, sweetest, promise!” He called back, not even turning to face you as he continued down the street.

”You owe me.” You grumbled. This is the last time you let Gale plan a date. Who would think that leaving just one day of your honeymoon to him would end with the two of you searching every street for anyone who had even so much as a picture book on spells.

Thankfully, this next shop had to be the last book store in the town. Hopefully, at least.

Gale walked through the doors of the building, a rather rundown sort of place. Vines ran their way in and out of the cracked wood siding, ending in blooms of tiny purple flowers. You might have even found the place adorable if it didn’t smell like mildew and unaccomplished sorcerers.

“Welcome to Lichen, Lizards, and Library!” A voice yelled out further in the room. You had to squint to see them, the “library” being much darker inside than the bright and bustling street beyond.

The voice belonged to a tiny dragonborn woman, much of her height hunched over a gnarled cane. You suddenly felt bad about your previous opinions of the place. By the way the elderly she-dragon hobbled towards you, you doubted the woman could stack more than a couple of books, much less manage the upkeep of the shop.

“Good day to you, m’lady.” Gale replied warmly, taking a step further into the ill-lit interior. “You wouldn’t happen to have any spell books for sale, would you, madam?”

“Spell books!” The she-dragon chucked, nodding her head. “We’ve got all the beginner books you could manage between the two of you! Last shelf on the right, dearie.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the woman. Customers probably came back to this shop time and time again just to see this grandmotherly Dragonborn.

”Well, you see…” Gale sighed, gesturing towards himself. ”I’m not exactly a beginner. Do you happen to have anything with a greater difficulty?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

The dragonborn narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the man.

”Wizard?” She prodded.

”Y-yes, in fact, I am.”

”How good are you?”

Gale scoffed, clearly taken aback by this line of interrogation, “Good enough to defeat an Elder Brain!”

The elderly woman narrowed her eyes even further. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had demanded the wizard cast ’wish’ just to prove it to her.

She finally nodded, her decision apparently made. “Follow me, then.”

You gave Gale a confused look, the man only answering with a shrug as he followed the she-dragon.

”I don’t usually show customers our more unusual books, but it seems like you’re up for the challenge.” The shopkeeper called over her shoulder.

The both of you followed as she hobbled her way to a door at the end of the room. You passed by shelves filled with all sorts of oddities, stacked with books, various skulls and jars. It was almost eerie, this little woman’s collection.

She opened the door, holding her hand out in invitation, “If you need anything, I’ll be in front. Yell loud, the old ears aren’t what they used to be.”

“Thank you.” You smiled politely, stepping into the smaller room with Gale, the door swinging shut softly.

This room was much more well-kept than the shop outside of it. The shelves were free of dust, books organized neatly by letter. You couldn’t help but marvel as your hand trailed over the spine of a crimson red book. It had to be expensive, the lettering of the title glinting a beautiful gold.

“This place is incredible.” Gale murmured, his eyes trailing over the shelves before throwing a smile your way. “Told you the last one would be the one.”

You rolled your eyes, pressing your lips into a tight line.

“Oh, not the silent treatment, darling.” He chided, pulling you closer to him. “What could I have done to deserve the lonely absence of your voice?”

“Maybe dragging me through town looking at shops during our honeymoon?” You scoffed. “Looking for spell books of all things! What else could you possibly learn?”

You bit back your tone, seeing how his expression immediately faltered.

“You’re right, in truth, I didn’t really think it would take all day to find a shop with books that had more in them than… well… firebolt.” He smiled.

You couldn’t help but relax your glare, knowing he didn’t truly waste the day on purpose.

“Fine. Then I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me.” You grinned.

”You must be careful with such threats, darling. It is our honeymoon after all. Wouldn’t want to get a man’s hopes soaring.” He teased, kissing your nose. “But yes, I will make it up to you at my earliest convenience”

You sighed with a nod, stepping back out of his arms. “Go ahead then.” You gave in, shooing him towards the bookshelves.

You turned your attention back to the red book, pulling out to leaf through idly. “What do you even think you’ll find in these?”

“Who knows.” He responded. “There’s not many spells I don’t have at least an idea of. But these books may have new ones. Or even advanced versions of spells I already can do.”

“Like what?” You questioned, reading further into the book. Apparently, this one was about a more practical way to summon a mephit.

“Like here,” He said, pointing to his own book. “Advanced Mage Hand. Instead of only lasting for a minute, this one lasts for ten.”

You were barely registering the words, engrossed in the science behind the summoning magic written in the pages before you. “Why would you need Mage Hand for ten minutes?” You asked, distractedly.

“Guess you would have to use your imagination. Endless possibilities.” Gale replied.

“Uh-huh.” You murmured, not really listening to your wizard. This book was just too fascinating. Who knew there was so much more knowledge out there about the construction and anatomy of a mephit?

It took Gale murmuring under his breath in a strange language to grab your attention.

“What was that?” You asked, your gaze flitting up to him.

He looked back at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What was ‘what’?”

“Oh, I thought you said something.” You shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book.

You were a couple more sentences in, comfortable silence falling over the room when you felt something on your ankle.

You couldn’t even begin to guess whatever it was that had touched you. It was feather light and cool, barely whispering over your skin. There one moment and gone within the split of another.

You looked down, trying to see what had brushed over you, only to see absolutely nothing.

Strange, must have been a breeze. There were many cracks in the walls I saw on the outside, you thought to yourself.

That is, until the cool touch grazed against your knee.

You froze, your skin erupting in goosebumps. You looked back towards Gale, questioningly, only to see him seemingly engrossed in the book he was reading. Your eyebrows furrowed, looking back to your legs.

No, still nothing there. Am I crazy? Have I been cursed?

The touch rose further, icy invisible fingertips racing along your thigh. Your breath caught in your throat, a slight sense of panic rising in your chest.

Gale cleared his throat casually beside you, your attention shooting up to him again. At first glance, he was being completely normal, but at closer inspection, you saw the way his ears flushed a barely perceptible pink.

Aha!

“It’s you!” You whisper shouted, pointing at him accusingly.

He faced you, eyebrows raised. “What are you talking about?”

As he spoke, the ghostly touch rose higher, much too close to your center than you cared to focus on.

”Play as innocent as you want.” You seethed, your cheeks beginning to heat. “Something is touching me, and it better be you.”

Gale couldn’t keep up the act, finally giving you a sly smile. “I wanted to see how useful this advanced Mage Hand really is.”

You gasped softly as the touch became firmer, pressing a single spectral finger against your clothed cunt.

“I couldn’t see it.” You managed to say, trying to hold on to at least a bit of dignity. In truth, you couldn’t deny that the feeling was… interesting.

”Another feature of its advancement.” Gale smiled, keeping his eyes trained on yours.

Another finger pressed against you, adding a delicious sense of pressure to your heat. You should’ve been embarrassed of how much you enjoyed this touch, how it made your mind cloud with lust. The fingers shifted slightly, barely brushing against your clit.

You covered your mouth quickly to suppress a whine, trying your best to give Gale a half-hearted glare. “Stop that. Someone will hear.”

Gale took a step closer, tilting your chin up with his hand. “Who? The she-dragon? As long as you aren’t too loud, the old bat won’t hear a thing.” He murmured, his gaze trailing down to your lips.

You couldn’t even give him a response, the mage hand shifting to part your panties to the side.

God’s above.

The touch was even more incredible now that there wasn’t fabric between you. A finger ran feather-light over your folds, spreading your wetness almost painfully slow. You let out a strained whimper, craving more friction than it gave you.

Gale closed the distance between you, pulling you flush against his chest. His hand pulled your chin up to him, swallowing your moan with his lips. You melted against his touch, rocking your hips slightly against the Mage Hand.

Gale chucked slightly, his other hand resting on the curve of your back. “So eager.” He whispered, parting from your kiss only just.

The fingers spread apart the petals of your flower, rubbing wide circles around your entrance, tracing figure eights everywhere but where you needed it.

“Please, Gale.” You choked out, eyes scrunching shut in desperation.

“Please what, dearest?” He responded, his voice low and teasing.

“Please, just touch me!” You said louder, pressing your hips against him, opening your eyes to beg with even your gaze.

He pressed a finger over your lips, warning you to control your volume. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown out with need. His lips were ever so slightly puffy, swollen with the heat of your earlier kiss.

She-dragon be damned, all you wanted was to hear a moan fall from those plump lips.

The spectral hand finally gave you what you wanted, dipping into your cunt slowly. You sighed in relief, letting your forehead fall to rest on Gale’s chest. What you imagined was the ghostly hand’s thumb traced small circles around your clit, a single finger pushing in and out of your sex.

You couldn’t help letting out another soft moan as another finger joined the first, thankfully the sound being muffled by Gale’s hand.

“Shhht.” Gale tutted quietly, his voice raspy in your ear. His hand moved from the small of your back, coming up to cup your breast. “You might want to dampen those pretty little moans unless you want someone to hear.”

You bit your lip, putting all of your focus into being quiet. What a losing battle you were fighting, however, Gale’s hand beginning to knead the soft flesh under it. Your nipple hardened under his touch, pushing through the fabric of your shirt. Gale smiled devilishly, fingertips grazing over the nub.

“If I had only known such magic existed before our honeymoon started.” He murmured. “We never would have left the inn.”

You bit back a moan as the fingers started pumping faster, arousal coiling tighter in your lower belly. Your legs began to feel heavy, your arms clutching at Gale for balance. The molten fire in your veins grew hotter and hotter, your muffled moans whispering out closer together. You were right on the edge, you knew your orgasm was close.

Suddenly, the touch disappeared.

You whined angrily, your eyes coming up to glare at Gale. He wasn’t usually one for orgasm denial.

Gale only chuckled, planting a soft kiss on your lips. “Apparently, ten minutes seemed to have been a bit of a stretch.”

You looked away, pouting. “Or maybe you lost concentration.”

Gale leaned in, kissing the shell of your ear before his teeth grazed against the skin gently. “Shall I replace the absence?” He nipped.

You nodded, not trusting your traitor mouth to answer with anything other than a shameful moan and string of begging words.

With a slight rustling of your heavy skirt, Gale cupped his hand against your sex. You whimpered a breathless moan, His middle finger delving between your folds.

He groaned in your ear, raising goosebumps along your arms. “So wet for me already, my love.”

You couldn’t respond, your hips having a mind of their own as they pressed further against his touch. You needed more. More pressure, more friction, more him.

“I can’t.” You whimpered, your legs felt as if they may give out at any moment.

Gale seemed to know exactly what you needed, hands hooking below your ass to pick you up. You couldn’t help but notice the hard length that pressed against your stomach as he carried you to the table in the corner. You ground against his cock helplessly, much too… well… much separating the two of you for your liking.

Gale let out a strained moan at your movements, setting you on the rough wood as softly as possible. It took mere moments for the two of you to remove those pesky barriers, Gale unlacing his trousers and you hiking up your dress. Your underwear were all but ruined, your cunt practically dripping with arousal.

Gale pulled you into a kiss, his member finally free against your soaked core. Moans mingled between both of your lips, Gale grinding against you in slow controlled thrusts.

You pulled away slightly, looking into his eyes. His tousled hair and lust crazed gaze almost had you coming on the spot.

“Gale” You whispered softly, pushing your fingertips through his soft brown locks. “I need you.”

”Your wish is my command.” He chuckled darkly, pushing his length inside you.

His hand shot over your mouth, anticipating the moan that ripped from your throat. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.

“By Mystra’s Light.” He strained out, grinding deeper against you. “You’re so tight around me.”

You cunt clenched at his words, earning another groan from his parted lips. You knew you wouldn't last long. Especially not after being deprived of your orgasm earlier. Even now, you felt the desire burning red hot in your lower stomach, the tightness in your muscles.

“Gale I-“ You whispered, voice desperate.

“Shht, dearest, I know.” He assured, beginning to push short, shallow thrusts within you.

“More!” You whined into his hand, nails digging softly into the man’s scalp. “Gods above, just fuck me!”

That’s all it took to snap the cord in Gale.

He thrusted into you savagely, heavy breaths panting in your ear. His spare hand held your hips close, his eyes meeting yours. His gaze was passionate, communicating all the words you weren’t able to say through his palm. You might’ve been worried about the shopkeeper hearing the raw wet sounds of Gale thrusting to the hilt, but the delicious stretch of his cock inside of you had you distracted from such trivial things.

It didn’t take but moments for the spring to pull tight in your mind, pleasure pulling you to the brink of snapping. Gale seemed to be close to the same, his brows furrowing and his grasp on your hips becoming tighter.

“Darling, ‘M close.” He warned, his voice worn and teeth gritted tight.

All you could do was moan into his touch, your heat clenching helplessly around him. His thrusts lost their rhythm, becoming deeper and desperate.

You felt a shiver before the world went white, every muscle in your body tightening as your orgasm hit you. Every nerve felt as if it were kissed by fire, all sound drowning out to the background. Your pleasure only intensified as you felt Gale’s warmth flood into you. He clutched you close as you both worked your way through your highs, Gale’s hips grinding raggedly.

When both of you had returned to the world of the living, Gale let out a chuckle. “Say what you will, but I’m glad I dragged you through every bookstore in this town. It ended quite well for me.”

You scoffed, feigning annoyance as you hit his chest softly. “You just wanted to bed me in a bookstore. Admit it.”

He held his hands up, pulling away from you with a groan, “You’re right. Guilty as charged.” He teased. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, ever so gently cleaning the two of you off.

“Well, I suppose we should find our way back to the Inn. Few more spells in here I have theories for.” He smiled, helping you off the table.

You blushed, smoothing out your dress, hoping no one would correctly assume why it had been wrinkled. “We better go pay for it then.” You quipped.

The two of you walked out hand in hand, Gale carrying your new find. Thankfully, the elderly dragonborn didn’t seem as if she knew what had happened in the back room of her own shop. She was perched upon a stool behind a desk, snoring loudly. It gave you some comfort. If you couldn’t hear the snoring from the other room… then hopefully…

“Ahem.” Gale cleared his throat as you approached the desk. “We’d like to purchase this one.

The Dragonborn awoke with a snort, smacking her lips together after a yawn. “Well let me see here.” She replied, taking the book.

She raised her eyebrows, nodding approvingly as she read the title. “A good find.”

Gale brought out his coin purse, paying for the book as the she-dragon and wizard made idle conversation. Your mind wandered to whatever other spells could be in the book. If one single entry could end this well…

The she-dragon took the coin happily, giving the book to Gale with a wave. You smiled at the woman, saying a soft goodbye as you began to exit the shop with your wizard love.

”Akra!” The woman croaked out, just as you had just almost passed through the doorway. Gale looked questioningly back at the woman.

“Uh, I’m sorry, madam. What was that?” He called out.

“It’s my name.” The elderly she-dragon yelled back, grinning from ear to ear. “The name you can call your little one in nine months!”

Your cheeks went beet red as Gale laughed out an awkward goodbye.

“Be sure to visit Lichen, Lizard, and Library again!”

You swatted at Gale’s arm, the man practically snorting back laughter as you made your way further into the streets. Not even the fires of Avernus could burn brighter than your flushed cheeks in this moment.

“Tomorrow, you’re staying in the Inn while I go to town.” You seethed, not even able to look at the wizard.

All gale did was chuckle back in response, taking your hand in his.

“I question the wisdom of that decision.”

#bg3 gale #baldurs gate gale #gale x reader #gale x you #gale x tav #gale smut #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 smut #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 x reader #tav x gale #gale x reader smut #this one is a wild one folks

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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

Text

Eddie's porn stash is a pretty conventional one. An 'if you've seen one stash you've seen them all' type. It basically only consists of skin mags, some of them kinky but most of them vanilla. Normal stuff.

The oddest thing in it is a two-year-old calendar. You know those sexy firefighter calendars? Usually a charity thing? A hit with the housewife crowd? Yeah. Except this calendar decided to branch out and include a bunch of sexy men from a bunch of sexy professions.

So, in this thing, joining the sexy firefighter is a sexy doctor, a sexy construction worker, a sexy police officer (whose month Eddie tore out and burned because fuck cops but don't ever fuck cops), a sexy librarian, and so on. They're all really good-looking, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic.

It's weird. Paramedics aren't normally part of the traditionally sexy professions. It's messy and sometimes tragic, but lacks the high-paying glamour that doctors and nurses enjoy. Eddie's had his fair share of fantasies, and none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

The guy in the calendar simply is that hot.

There's not even anything risqué about his picture. None of the pictures go beyond "this dude is chiseled and shirtless", because veering even slightly past the softest softcore territory would scare off the little housewives or something.

(Eddie is actually pretty fucking sure it'd increase the sales, but hey, what does he know.)

The point is, there's nothing that obscene about the pic. Just a guy kneeling in the back of an ambulance, first aid equipment scattered between his powerful thighs, shirt open to reveal his sculpted torso…

Dark hair spanning across his pecs, over his abs, vanishing down his tight tight tight pants. Hips canting upward, bringing attention to the size of his bulge beneath the zipper. Broad shoulders, ripped arms and large hands, veins protruding across the back. A pretty yet masculine face, with a strong jaw and a straight nose, full lips, a smattering of moles going down his biteable neck. Voluminous, golden brown hair swooped away from his twinkling eyes.

He's got this look in them, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in the calendar.

The one month everyone will go crazy for.

Eddie has become intimately familiar with that look. No joke, in two years it's made him crack his marbles more than anyone else has done in his quarter-century lifetime. When all else fails, November-paramedic has his back. It's basically his longest relationship to date, which sounds a lot sadder out loud (and it sounded fucking sad inside his head, too).

You might wonder why any of that is relevant now, as he sits on the curb outside of The Behemoth with blood trickling from his temple, his band giving their statements to one cop while another hauls away the snarling douchebag that clipped him. How does it play a part in this god-awful night out, you ask?

Well.

"Sir?"

Eddie startles, too caught up in the thudding inside his head, made worse by the buzzing crowd, to notice the man approaching him. He looks up, his gaze gliding past uniformed legs, muscular forearms, a curved neck and honeyed eyes appraising Eddie, and oh.

Oh God.

Eddie's breath sticks in his chest and his tongue becomes a cognate to sandpaper, because it's the paramedic.

It's the paramedic. From the calendar.

He's hallucinating. He has to be. He collapsed on the sidewalk, and now he's having one last weird sex dream before his brain finishes seeping out and he fucking dies.

November-paramedic crouches in front of him. Eddie continues to gape like he's getting ready to catch the peanuts no one is tossing at him.

"My name is Steve. I'm with the ambulance," November-paramedic says. "What's your name?"

Eddie makes a noise incomprehensible to most Earth cultures before his brain registers the meaning of the question and stutters out the answer.

"I- Uh- E-Eddie. It's, it's Eddie."

November-paramedic – Steve – smiles kindly. Heat prickles across Eddie's cheeks and neck. It's not the same as the cocky, sexy smile he's got in the calendar, but still. He's smiling. At Eddie!

"Hi, Eddie." He nods toward Eddie's temple. "That's an impressive cut you got there. May I take a look at it?"

"Yeah? Yeah. Um, g-go ahead."

As Steve sets down his bag and rummages through it, Eddie scours his face to confirm that it really is the guy from the calendar. To his chagrin, it is. There's no mistaking it. Those eyes, like liquid gold. That jawline, a weapon in its own right. Those moles, applied so skillfully it must've been by an artist's hand. That hair, coming straight out of a commercial for luxury shampoo. It's lying flatter than in the calendar, either lacking product or having sweated it out, but it's still glorious.

Steve, having finished washing his hands, tugs on a pair of disposable gloves. The plastic snaps against his wrist, sending a shiver through Eddie. It centers between his legs. Shit, if he pops a boner now…

"I'm going to ask you some questions, okay?" Steve says while pressing a square piece of gauze against the cut. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Eh, Thursday?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"The Behemoth."

Steve nods and, with a lopsided smile, asks, "And are you a patron or did you and your head injury just wander onto the scene?"

Eddie laughs. Loud, merry, and verging on too long. It wasn't even that funny. Steve seems pleased his joke was a success, though. Unless his smile is the uncomfortable kind that one wears when faced with the unhinged. Eddie isn't sure how much blood he's lost.

"No, I, like, my band…" he says, stammering like talking isn't what he does best. Jesus Christ, it's just a hot guy! Eddie has made a fool of himself in front of those plenty of times – no need to get flustered about it. He clears his throat. "We had a gig and, after, at the bar, some guys got into a fight. Got ugly, so we tried to leave, but… alas!" He makes a dramatic sweep of his arm, nearly clocking Steve. Steve expertly ducks away without lessening the pressure on the wound. Eddie soldiers on, not daring to pause lest he lose his steam. Hopefully his burning face is enough of an apology. "Fucker wasn't even aiming for me. He missed his intended target and struck me instead."

"Right. Did you lose consciousness after he hit you?"

"Nope."

"Good. Did you drink tonight?"

"Half a beer, at most."

"Do-"

"Eddie!"

Gareth's nasally voice cuts off Steve's question. The next second, he's materialized beside them with a slightly alarmed expression. "Dude, are you…!"

He trails off, eyes growing into dinner plates. There isn't that much blood, is there?

Steve looks Gareth up and down, a crease between his brows. "Is this your friend?"

"My drummer. Gareth."

Eddie half-expects Steve to demand Gareth leaves so he can do his job in peace, but nope. That kind, calm smile is back. He even gives him one of those little upward-nods 'cool guys' like to do.

"What's up, Gareth? I'm Steve; I'm with the ambulance. Just making sure Eddie won't keel over later tonight."

"Uh huh…" Gareth kneels opposite Steve. He's smiling too, but his is shit eating. Eddie frowns in confusion, because what does Gareth have to be happy about? He was freaking out right after Eddie got hit, but now he's staring at Steve like-

Oh.

He's staring at Steve.

No. Noooooooooo! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh why, why has he kept his porn stash in a drawer without a lock all these years?! He can't recollect the reason Gareth opened that particular drawer on that particular day – all Eddie remembers is how Gareth, Jeff, and Marv snickered when he explained the inclusion of the calendar.

That was it, though. They moved on. Sure, there has been the occasional roasting after the fact, but it's not like he hasn't also mocked them for their weird shit. But that's not the point. The point is that Gareth is staring at Steve like he recognizes him.

Gareth's attention flicks toward Eddie. Eddie shakes his head as subtly yet pleadingly as he can. Gareth's grin gobbles down another turd. Eddie makes a valiant effort to explode Gareth's eyeballs with his mind.

"Say…" Gareth turns to Steve. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so. Eddie, do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, man," Eddie says, voice trembling. "Hurts like hell."

"I could've sworn I've seen your face before," Gareth says. "Like, I'm 100% sure."

"Are you dizzy or nauseous?" Steve asks, ignoring Gareth.

"Um, a little dizzy but no nausea?"

"Hmm, okay. Blurred vision or uneven numbness?"

"No."

Steve nods, glancing at his watch. Then, to Eddie’s dismay, he looks at Gareth. "I've never been to this bar before."

"Nono, not here. Somewhere else…"

Steve's lips purse and his brows knit into the most adorable thinking-face Eddie has ever seen. His heart skips a beat, then skips two more as Steve's free hand gently cups Eddie's cheek. The skin catches fire where Steve's gloved fingertips touch it.

"Let me have a look at your pupils…" Steve says, guiding Eddie's face and, holy shit, leaning in close for a better look.

Eddie gulps, half his blood rushing up and the other half down; he squeezes his legs together to prevent the little guy from saying 'hello' to everyone present. His eyes rove over Steve's face. His lips are chapped and the skin on his nose is dry. The nose itself is somewhat crooked. Did he get into a fight between the calendar photoshoot and now, or did they make the nose straighter for the photo? Why would anyone think it necessary to edit a face like this one? Even with its imperfections mere inches away, it's still the handsomest Eddie has seen.

Steve hums. It's a perfectly preserved vinyl. It's a metal festival. It's Eddie's new favorite song.

"Same size but pretty dilated… Keep your eyes open, please." He shines a tiny flashlight into Eddie's eyes before nodding, satisfied. "All right, looks good."

He leans back out of Eddie's space, returning Eddie's ability to breathe, and removes the gauze. His smile tells Eddie that the bleeding has stopped. As great as it is that he won't hemorrhage to death, it also means their encounter is approaching its end.

"You might've seen me at the university campus?" Steve says, fiddling with some plasters; it takes Eddie's horny brain five full seconds to deduce he's talking to Gareth again.

"No-" Gareth freezes, mouth hanging open. His smugness has evaporated. "Actually, I might have? You're a student?"

Steve chuckles as he patches the last of Eddie's cut. "No, but my friends are. None of them own a car, so I end up driving them everywhere. Right, Eddie, I think you're good to recover at home. Unless you feel like you should head to the hospital?"

Great question! Does he? On the one hand: riding in the ambulance with Steve, ensuring a few additional minutes of his lustrous eyes and smooth voice.

On the other hand: hospital bills.

"… no."

"Okay. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I live alone."

"Then maybe Gareth could hang around for the next 48 hours?"

"Sure can," Gareth says without hesitating. Eddie's heart swells with affection for him, despite his (failed! Hah!) plot to mortify Eddie to death.

Steve is already packing his medical bag.

"I want you to rest and avoid stressful situations," he tells Eddie. "No alcohol, no recreational drugs, no driving, and no working until you feel completely recovered. You may take tylenol, but not aspirin or ibuprofen. And if your symptoms worsen or you develop new ones – seek medical attention. Got it?"

The last part is sterner, reminding Eddie of every male authority figure he's strived to disobey during his teenage years. He has no such desire this time.

"Got it."

Steve raises his eyebrows as if to say 'have you really?', and Eddie has to wonder if it's he who seems contrariant and/or stupid enough to ignore the medic or if this is something Steve does with every patient. If it's the former, he mustn't seem that contrariant, because Steve's features soften into trust. He stands, brushing dust off his knees.

"Great. You boys take care now. Have a nice night."

"Yeah, you too, man," Eddie calls after him weakly as he retreats to the blinking ambulance. "Thanks…"

He keeps his gaze on the broad expanse of Steve's back, soaking in the rippling of his muscles as he walks and, oh would you look at that, his ass is as nice as the rest of him. Eddie's been wondering for two years now…

"Dude!"

Eddie jerks toward Gareth. Did he say that out loud? Did he drool? Is his boner showing? But no, Gareth isn't disgusted or disturbed – he's excited.

Shit.

He'll never hear the end of this.

"Don't!" he hisses.

Gareth just laughs, eyes twinkling.

"That was-"

"Don't!"

"I can't believe it!"

"Gareth-"

"You are so red right now!"

"For Jesus fucking Christ's fucking sake-"

------------------------------

Dedicated to @rougenancy for always listening to and encouraging my various thoughts, opinions, and ideas (they are constant).

Part 2

AO3

#me combining paramedic!steve with model!steve? it's more likely than you think #no need to tell me i'm a genius – i already know it #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #it's not important but i named the third guy 'marvin'#because i think he looks like one #this is part one out of [undecided]#i'll be winging it in the middle so that'll be fun #my writing #steddie fic: november paramedic

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lvmazzy · 9 months

Text

- playing dangerous !

summary: Heesung doesn't hide his favoritism for his girl in the kpop industry.

pairing: manager!heeseung x idol!fem!reader

word/character count: 6K / 6297

warnings: grammatical errors, profanity, implied sex, obscenity, kpop, gg kpop, favoritism, affair between co-workers...

gender: little smut, fluff(?), funny(??)

author's notes: hihi my luvs!! I'm finally back. it's my first time writing something about enhypen and a little more raunchy, sooo I hope you like it! don't forget to give your feedback which is very important. xoxo 💋

It was a fact that Heeseung had a soft spot for you. From the day he saw you practicing in the rehearsal room, he certainly saw potential, charisma and beauty.

Your kpop group wasn't as acclaimed and recognized yet and that frustrated you. But things changed when you met Heeseung, he was a nice, young and extremely attractive guy - sinful thoughts ran through your mind making you dizzy - you saw how excited he was to be your new manager and help elevate your career.

Your dream was to be famous, the fame, the lust, the spotlight was your dream and Heeseung sure promised you all of that.

Things started to look better since you entered into an agreement with Heeseung, he was a great agent and manager. Album sales were up, views were growing, listeners on spotify were increasing and all of this was thanks to your manager Heeseung.

You were eternally grateful and happy for all your manager's work, he even increased your distribution lines on songs, invested in sponsors, in other words, you were the center of everything!

It was late at night when you had just come off another successful stage. You looked radiant, with rosy cheeks, hair on your forehead from dancing, and a breathtakingly flawless outfit.

The ecstasy was visible on your face as you entered your dressing room. Looking at yourself in the mirror, admiring every detail, so wrapped up in the countless compliments, you suddenly felt a pair of hands on your waist which made you jump in fright.

"Heeseung! You scared me!" you say with wide eyes and a hand on your heart.

"sorry my little kitten, I just came here to congratulate you." your stomach filled with butterflies at the nickname making you blush. Then immediately he pulled you closer to himself. In response, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"you were amazing tonight, I'm so proud of you..." Heeseung whispered as he distributed several kisses with light bites on your neck, making you shiver with every touch.

"Heeseung... we.... can't....." it was almost a whisper. You tried to form coherent sentences, but Heeseung's kisses became hotter and hotter.

"why not? We've done it several times right here, remember?" he let out a nasal laugh after saying that, looking at your face with that seductive smile you couldn't resist. "or do you prefer my house?"

you paused for a moment and thought... your chest rising and falling because of the accelerated breathing. That's when you cracked a mischievous smile that made Heeseung smile too. "I get it, you really are a nasty girl." after saying that, he pulls you out of the dressing room and takes you to his car.

The ride was quiet and calm, you realized how attractive Heesung was tonight. The way he held the steering wheel and how his hair was slightly messy made you bite your lip trying to contain it.

Heeseung quickly noticed your behavior and brought one of his hands to your thigh and began to caress it slowly. He was teasing you, you knew him too well to know that kind of game.

When you finally arrived at his house, you quickly kissed him with all your strength and desperation.

He pinned you to the door and sunk his lips into yours, making your tongues roll together in sync. You gave a soft moan, which made Heeseung go crazy.

"i didn't know you were that needy." Heeseung said with a malicious smile on his face and with one of his eyebrows raised.

"shut up." You pursed your lips again and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Heesung held you and led you to your room, you had come here several times before and never seemed to change.

He laid you down on the bed gently with your lips still attached and pulled away for a moment, making you moan from the lack of contact.

"patience princess." he pulled off his shirt revealing the toned body you adored. It was quite a sight.

Moving closer to you, Heeseung began to distribute kisses on your thighs making you dizzy with pleasure.

"what? Cat got your tongue? Tell me what you want." a smug smile appeared on his lips.

"you..."

"hmm I don't think you've convinced me." he says pulling away leaving you frustrated and looking at your face that was almost closed.

"I want you, please. I want to feel you." you say under your breath making him smile in response.

He kissed you once again hovering above and lowered his lips on your neck leaving several bites. At this point you could only moan softly and try to keep your eyes open.

"you know how much I love this skirt on you, it's a shame we don't need it right now." with one action, he takes off your skirt throwing it in any corner on the floor.

You pull him into a desperate, passionate kiss, as his hands roam all over your body, squeezing and caressing.

He runs his thumb across your lips and caresses them, as you look up at him with the brightest eyes.

"you're a mess, princess." he says laughing as he stands mesmerized by you. In response, you gently kiss his thumb.

Suddenly, you both hear a low purr coming from the floor snapping you out of your trance.

"what...." you say confused.

It's then that a white ball of fur climbs onto the bed disturbing your moment.

"ownn it's just Yoon. I miss you my love." you say stroking and kissing Heeseung's cat several times, making him snort.

"okay okay, now we're at an important moment you know?" he retorts taking the cat off his lap and putting it away from you on the bed.

"i don't think she wants to see what her parents are about to do."

"what if she decides to watch?" he says to you in a teasing way while taking off your shirt.

"that would be pretty weird." you said a little out of breath because of Heeseung.

"I think she'll like that view." he says not stopping to look at you, specifically, your body that was only in your bra.

In response, you rolled your eyes and hit his shoulder playfully making him laugh.

"sorry, but you're always so hot, my star."

"oh my, what a corny nickname!" you say groaning in embarrassment making you both laugh.

"deep down you found it exciting."

"Heeseung if you don't shut your mouth I swear I'm going home."

"okay, I'm done!" he said in yielding, waving his hands in the air. "where were we? ah, yeah, the part where I take off all your clothes. Shit, you're so beautiful!"

"Heeseung focus!"

"right, sorry."

original by @lvmazzy , 2023

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chaosandmarigolds · 17 days

Text

More Simon and Ollie cause I love them and I think love them too so-

Dad! Simon who physically has to peel the toddler off his leg when they're grocery shopping because Ollie does the kid thing where they cling to their parents leg and basically sits on their foot so the parent just has to limp around with a kid on their leg

Dad! Simon who is so not immune to puppy dog eyes it is not even funny, but he will act like he is

"'Ister Rilllleeeey."

"Your mum said no, Olls."

"pluh-eeeeeaassse, please, please, please, please, 'm usin manners!! please please please."

...

"Snitch an' 'll have Uncle Johnny throw ya in a river. "

"Yay!"

Dad! Simon who loves showering Ollie with kisses because it makes the little guy crack up

Dad! Simon who (definitely) didn't tell another dad at the bake sale to ff off after he made a snide remark about Oliver's biological dad not being there

Dad! Simon who so doesn't know how Oliver learned all those cuss words- whaaa? So not him, he doesn't cuss nah

Dad! Simon who loves his son so so so much, never doubt that but DO NOT give him the idea of having a little girl

(anyway thats it <3)

#simon x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader #simon fluff #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #mw2 ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #simon ghost fluff #ghost imagine #cod x y/n #cod soap #cod imagine #tf 141 x reader #simon riley x female reader #x female!reader #coco’s pre-k universe! <3

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ad0rechuu · 4 months

Text

۪ ᝰ ۫ MY OH MY ୨୧

based on my oh my by girls' generation

SYNOPSIS. ━━━━━ Yn finds out that her whole relationship has been a bet. To get over her heartache her best friend Sunwoo convinces her to take revenge.

How you might ask? By breaking the culprits heart right back of course!

10jun23 | st. 31/12/23 / fn. ━━━━━ updates every tuesday, thursday & saturday (cet) | HIATUS

pairing. ━━━━━ Best Friend! Kim Sunwoo x Fem! reader (x Choi Yeonjun)

featuring. ━━━━━ the boyz members, kim chaewon, txt members + mentions of other idols

genre. ━━━━━ smau + written: humor/crack / fluff / angst / suggestive / childhood friends to lovers / college au / revenge relationship / relationship based on bet / slight slow burn

warnings. ━━━━━ timestamps/sm numbers/hair colors mean nothing, sexism/slutshaming, crude humor (kys jokes), mentions of food/sex/drugs/alcohol/cheating/mental illness, use of pictures of yn but only for reference, yn is a sone. more thorough warnings in the actual chapters, please let me know if missed something. this story doesn’t describe the idols in real life and is written with a dark skinned poc in mind!

notes. ━━━━━ the taglist is open, send an ask to be added. spam likes are fine but consider reblogging with comments of ur thoughts (not only on my work but on other authors work too! credits to the rightful owners of all the graphics. i’m not a native english speaker! and thank you to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <3

( please give this story lots of love & check out my masterlist )

PROFILES. ━━━━━ SONES INCORPORATED ᜊ DA HOMIEZ ᜊ MORE COOL KIDS ᜊ THE PLAYLIST

STEP 1. GET OVER HIM ›

ᝰ CH 000. prologue: THE NEXT BET

ᝰ CH 001. I H8 MEN

ᝰ CH 002. DON’T BREAK UP WITH THAT LOSER

ᝰ CH 003. THE PLAN

ᝰ CH 004. WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

ᝰ CH 005. *INSERT EVIL LAUGHTER*

ᝰ CH 006. ANNOYING BRAT FOR SALE

ᝰ CH 007. DON'T WORRY YOUR PRETTY BIG HEAD

ᝰ CH 008. NOT OVER HIM

ᝰ CH 009. CLASSIC SUNWOO-YN-BFF-DATE

ᝰ CH 010. THE NERVE AND THE AUDACITY

STEP 2. MAKE HIM FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU ›

ᝰ CH 011. STEP UP MY GAME

ᝰ CH 012. SASSY CAT EMOJI

ᝰ CH 013. A NIGHT ON THE TOWN W/ YN & WOO

ᝰ CH 014. GOOD NIGHT

ᝰ CH 015. HOBBIES FOR SUNWOO

ᝰ CH 016. GRAND DISCOVERY (YN HAS AN IDEA)

ᝰ CH 017. JUNS UNAPPROACHABLE AND COLD GF

ᝰ CH 018. HANGING OUT WITH MY BFS FRIENDS

ᝰ CH 019. BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF

ᝰ CH 020. DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME

STEP 3. BREAK HIS HEART ›

ᝰ CH 021. CODE ORANGE

ᝰ CH 022. I FUCKED UP

ᝰ CH 023. HITCH IN THE ROAD

ᝰ CH 024. CONSIDER AND MAKE SURE

ᝰ CH 025. WHAT MAKES THE HEART GROW WHAT?

ᝰ CH 026. BALLOON FLOWERS

ᝰ CH 027. REJECTION + ANEURYSM = WENT WELL

ᝰ CH 028. MAKEUP

ᝰ CH 029. BALLOON FLOWERS VERSUS ROSES

ᝰ CH 030. COMING SOON

ᝰ CH 00I. epilogue: COMING SOON

ᝰ CH 0II. epilogue: COMING SOON

ᝰ CH III. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT

ᝰ AFTER WORD

special thanks (& follow these awesome ppl). ━━━━━ to @yuyusuyu @kodzumo @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @seonghwaddict @felixsramen : i have to give you six an extra special thanks because you all motivated and supported me so much while i was stressing and being annoying, just so you know guys are my motivation! (the other message is also to you all ofc)

and to @yunstarz @nyukyujs @rieuvie @thelargefrye @i-luvsang @cybrsan @gyumibear @pocketjoong @jaehunnyy @nebulousbrainsoup @justhere4kpop @xpixie @atinycafe @brrrkdslek @phantom-webber @a1sh1teruu @starryunho @aestheticsluut @end0rchans @yourfatherlucifer @alixnsuperstxr @girls4cheol @cheollipop @mintgki @aoi-turtle @renstears @42e15 @alixnsuperstxr @mrowwww @hwaightme @paradiqms @starrysvn @tubatu-wari-wari @kitten4sannie @chokchokk @hee0soo @joong-of-gold @armysantiny @evilsailorsenshi @mundayoonimnida @aapplepii @juhakutie : first of all i don’t expect you to read or interact with this fic, you might not even stan the boyz or like this sorta thing but i tagged you all because of one reason and one reason only; to tell you that you all make tumblr such a lovely and inspirational place for me, whenever i see ur accs it brightens my day because i know what great ppl are behind them, i just wanted to say that i think that you are amazing and i want to use this post to thank you! happy new years and i love you everyone (and you who’s reading this)

my oh my © ad0rechuu, 2023. do not copy/repost.

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cinellieroll · 2 months

Text

☆ random obey me headcanons!

lucifer, mammon and simeon ♡

part two (asmodeus, levi and barbatos)

part three (beelzebub, belphegor, solomon)

part four (satan and diavolo)

cw: a few spoilers ahead from the main story! also one SLIGHT nsfw on simeons part???

small note: i only started writing on tumblr now so idk much on how ppl do those line thingies on the words and then it teleports to a diff post so if anyone knows how to do it please teach me! thank you :3

☆ lucifer:

- generally has a thing for turtlenecks. if you open his closet you'll see a bunch of turtlenecks in there. lucifer is a very conservative man after all.

- speaking of closet, he definetely has a color code for his clothing. blacks, reds, navy blues, anything dark

- you'll never catch him wearing anything revealing. especially his legs. man keeps em hidden.

- has a very sensitive nose. he always scolds mammon and asmo for wearing such strong cologne. he has great sense of smell in general (the bitch can smell anything) and automatically knows when trouble is near.

- EXTREMELY petty when he doesn't get his morning coffee. if he misses a day without it an extra line will appear on his forehead.

- gifts you souvenirs when he enters the human world. claims he's here for business because diavolo told him but we all know that's not the only reason why he came up there.

- he doesn't like writing with modern pens and only settles with quills. he still has his old quill from the celestial realm and keeps it hidden somewhere.

- almost gave head pats to luke once.

- his nose is FUCKING BEAUTIFUL and his side profile too. he has a nose bump for sure and i will die on this hill.

- he's not a big fan of creamy foods like carbonara or anything with cream in general. if he's eating sweets he prefers the icing to be less flavorful. what do you expect? he's a black coffee lover after all.

☆ mammon:

- room is always a fucking mess, but he cleans when he procrastinates so if you ever enter his room and he's all quiet and cleaning just don't disturb him for a while.

- buys bootleg merch for levi for no reason. one time he found this cheep ruri chan stuffy on sale for like 150 grimm and decided to buy it.

- has fucking shit hand writing bro. sometimes it's small, sometimes it's big but most of the time it's ass balls. like why does your k and h look the same?

- he cracks his knuckles and joints often and can't go without a day doing it atleast once. it's kinda hot tbh lol

- when he's in a happy mood he'll sing in like a high pitched way. idk how to explain it but i just see him doing that especially when he's on cooking duty

- sleeps really late he could almost rival levi on it. surprisingly his eyebags aren't that visible though.

- has really pretty features like long eyelashes, plump lips and visible collarbones. eat your heart out asmo xoxo

- convinced himself he'll never ever like or listen to human world songs until he heard you blasting some music in your room. he was singing that song in his head for days on end but refused to ask you what the title was

- he's a very clumsy guy and often drops small things especially during class like his ballpen, eraser or that pack of bubblegum lucifer ended up confiscating

- before you arrived, he liked to vape or juul when he's stressed or felt lonely but now he only spends his time thinking of you when he feels down.

☆ simeon:

- when he turned into a human he had thoughts of becoming a teacher in christian education but realized it's better if he owned a cafe instead.

- he sometimes joins luke during his baking lessons with barbatos even though he already knows all the steps

- occasionally invites you for sleepovers and buys card / board games for you guys to play with solomon and luke! either he or solomon are always end up being the winners everytime though

- always and i mean ALWAYS willing to teach you something when he knows it. baking, writing, recent lessons, etc

- once the exchange program ended he started writing more and more, especially poetry. and mostly wrote about you and how much he misses you <3.

- started making diary entries after the aftermath of the celestial war.

- during quiet nights, simeon often thinks what it'd be like if he was really close with the brothers.

- his eyes are lowkey creepy sometimes when he looks at you for too long. it's like he's trying to detect every sin you've committed.

- idk why i thought of this but his teeth are literally so pearly and perfect but he doesn't really smile with them in view.

- unintentionally moans sometimes. like when he sits down after a long day you just start hearing a soft "ah~" out of nowhere..

#obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer #om! shall we date #om! lucifer #lucifer x reader #mammon obey me #obey me mammon #om! mammon #mammon x reader #simeon obey me #obey me simeon #om! simeon #simeon x reader #obey me x reader #om! x reader #obey me headcanons #om! headcanons

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corroded-hellfire · 4 months

Note

Hi gorgeous a fic request idea it's my first time requesting so sorry if I'm doing it wrong! What about reader being insecure about herself and worrying she's not smart or hot enough for Eddie and it's just Eddie being confused bc how could she think that wen he's the town freak?? and then reassuring her and just lots of fluff

Ah, this is so relatable! I know I need Eddie to reassure me. Also, the only way to request wrong is by being rude and you most definitely were not 💕

Words: 1.2k

You’re not sure what caused the recent feeling of inadequacy, but you just can’t shake it. The last few weeks it feels like a storm has been rolling in bit by bit, always adding something new to the pile of things you already dislike about yourself. The little things that have always irked you in the back of your mind steadily keep making their way forward, pushing and shoving like there’s a clearance sale on your happiness and they want first dibs.

It doesn’t matter that your grades are holding steady because you answered a question wrong in class today when the teacher called on you. You’re such an idiot. There’s a new pimple growing in like a second head near your lips. You’re so gross. The weather be damned, your hair is going to look a wreck rain or shine. You’re such a mess. The clothes the other girls wear are flattering and beautiful, making yours look like dirty dish rags in comparison. You’re such a loser.

Despite trying your damnedest to hide how you’re feeling from the world, your boyfriend knows you too well for that. Eddie notices the way you lose focus, your attention drifting somewhere else—internally, he’s afraid.

Your latest zone out is while the two of you are sitting on his couch, watching a movie. A part that you’ve laughed at a million times before comes on and Eddie can tell your brain hasn’t even registered what’s on screen. He keeps stealing glances at you from the corner of his eye, growing more concerned each time. Eventually, he can’t take it anymore.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” You’re broken out of your stupor and meet Eddie’s gaze with glassy eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asks, concern etched deep into his brow.

“What do you mean?” You know your attempt at playing dumb won’t work either—on top of everything else, you’re a shit actress too.

“You’ve seemed sad lately. Kind of…distant,” Eddie says, taking care to choose his words carefully. He doesn’t want you to feel as if he’s interrogating you but wants to convey his genuine worry and concern.

Shame floods your body as you realize Eddie has noticed your change lately. Just another thing for you to feel bad about. You shift awkwardly, moving out from under Eddie’s arm, where you were nestled comfortably.

“N-Nothing’s wrong.”

Eddie gives you a disbelieving look. You can’t blame him; that was some pretty shitty bluffing.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, “you think I don’t know you well enough to tell when something’s wrong? When you’re lying?”

“You do,” you admit, voice low and soft.

It’s a mutual instinct, though, as you can read Eddie just as well. The sadness in his eyes cracks your heart in two, knowing you’re what’s causing it.

“Talk to me,” Eddie says, taking one of your hands. He holds your hand in both of his and gently massages it. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, trying to avoid his eyes. “I just feel…off lately.”

“How so?”

Embarrassment grows inside of you, blooming like a flower—or maybe a weed. It’s hard for you to bring yourself to tell Eddie the truth–it just makes you feel even more pathetic than you already are. There’s no use trying to keep it from him any longer, though.

“Like I’m not…enough.”

“Enough? Enough of what?” Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion as he keeps rubbing his thumbs along the back of your hands.

“Well, enough for you,” you admit as you feel your cheeks burn with the humiliation that the truth brings.

“Me?” Eddie’s eyebrows pinch together, and he shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”

You breathe out a defeated sigh that breaks Eddie’s heart and take your hand from his grasp.

“I see all the other girls,” you say, anger creeping into your tone. Not anger at Eddie or at the other girls; anger at yourself for being so inferior. “They’re so pretty and smart and I can’t help but wonder why you want to be with me.”

Every word you say confuses and shocks Eddie even further.

“You…huh?” Eddie says, mind not able to comprehend what’s going on. In his mind, there is not a single dimension or alternate reality where you aren’t enough for him. It’s simply not possible.

“I’m not hot enough for you,” you say with a sniffle and a shrug. “Or smart enough. Or nice enough, or funny enough—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eddie says, waving his hands in front of him. “You’re not serious, are you?”

The look on your face and the tears about to spill from your eyes when you look at him tell him that you are, though. Eddie can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle and shake his head.

Your brow furrows at his laughter and a tear escapes your eye and makes its way down your cheek. Panic flashes in Eddie’s eyes when he sees your reaction and he’s quick to remedy the situation.

“Oh, no, no!” he says. His hands come up to cup your face and his thumb wipes away your rogue tear. “I don’t think it’s funny. Well, in a way I kind of do. You think you’re not enough for me? Sweetheart, you really have no idea how amazing you are, do you?” When your only reply is another sniffle, Eddie sighs. “I don’t understand how you could think that,” he says. “You do know you’re dating the town freak, right?”

“But you’re not,” you insist defiantly.

“And you’re not all those mean things you think about yourself.” He lets his hands fall down to your lap and takes your smaller ones in his. “Babe, you’re so insanely hot I can’t even believe you noticed me.”

Eddie chuckles and squeezes your hands. “And aren’t you the one always helping me with homework? Don’t I always get better grades when you help me?”

Eddie sighs and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. You’re both quiet for a few moments. Eddie lets his eyes slip closed for a second before looking at you once again.

“I hate that you’ve been feeling so down about yourself. I wish you saw yourself like I do. You’d see that you’re the most beautiful, wonderful woman in the world. Who is smart, who is kind, who is funny, who is everything she tells herself she’s not.” He leans in and presses a soft, sweet kiss against your lips. “I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world,” he tells you.

“I love you, too,” you reply in a whisper, tear tracks staining your cheeks.

“Now, look at me,” Eddie says. He sits up straight and looks you in the eye.

“I am,” you say in a small voice.

“Am I lying?”

You know him so well, know when he’s telling even the slightest fib. But there’s no sign of that in Eddie’s eyes nor on his face at all.

“No,” you admit.

“Come here,” Eddie says with a sigh, opening his arms for you.

Immediately you fall into them and nuzzle your face against his shirt. It’s your safe place; everything is always better when your head is on Eddie’s chest.

“Promise you’ll tell me when you have these thoughts, yeah?” he asks and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “And I’ll remind you that they’re not true. That you’re my gorgeous, brilliant girl. Promise me?”

“I promise,” you say, tilting your head up to look him in the eye.

He kisses your lips a few times, punctuating the message of his words.

“You're my favorite,” he whispers against your mouth as you part.

“Favorite what?”

“Everything.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #request

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 11 months

Text

Well, Actually

Summary: Spencer gets frustrated as Reader proves him wrong about an unsub's profile.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff-ish

Content warnings: discussions of gender, sexy implications, Ernest Hemingway

Word count: 1.5k

It’s when I flip the OPEN sign to CLOSED that I can finally breathe. Saturday Sale Days at the bookstore are usually easygoing, but most people took refuge at the windows thanks to the crime scene across the street. Another sex worker was murdered, according to the agents who were here earlier. Well, one of them looked like an agent; coated from head to toe in black and seriousness. The other, however, might as well have been a pretentious preppy middle schooler who thinks a doctorate — three doctorates (he made sure to correct me) — gives him the excuse to lack social graces.

I’m not used to running into FBI agents regularly. However, I’m fairly confident that questioning civilians is more about further insight and not running to the end with confirmation bias. Dr. Reid, on the other hand, had his confirmation set that he and his team were looking for a woman riddled with internalized misogyny who was killing sex workers and leaving quotes from Ernest Hemingway pieces.

So, is it wrong that I may or may not have said they might actually be looking for a male with possible gender nonconformity issues? According to the quotes written in lipstick and discussions revolving around Hemingway’s relationship with gender, it was the first thing to pop into my head.

And it was Dr. Reid’s first instinct to take it personally, like any other gifted child who’s never learned what it’s like to be wrong (possibly). His reaction mainly consisted of raising his voice and saying my assumption “was not relevant to our case” and taking a collection of Hemingway’s short stories without paying for it. I haven’t found a suitable way to explain that to my boss yet.

Regardless of his reaction, I had no reason to expect to see him again. I got a card from Agent Prentiss after she questioned me behind the counter and haven’t heard a word since. It didn’t matter then because we were closed, and I had the day off tomorrow —

Knock, knock, knock. A simple three-raps on the glass. The night makes it difficult to see who it is, but I’m more than familiar with the panic button under the register. So before I turn the lights out, I get closer to the door to find out who on the other side can’t read.

And without thinking, I open the door, but don't let him in. “Agent Reid.” I can’t help but push him just a bit.

“Dr. Reid.”

“Right.” I faked a laugh (years of practice). “Well as you can see we’re closed for the night so —”

His hand is out, holding the book. The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway. The paper cover is already pulled up at the corners and the spine is cracked. Nothing display worthy, that’s for sure. “I took this.”

“And you had it for six hours. How did you decimate it so quickly?”

“I was using it as a source while we were trying to solve the case.” His hand was shaking, from nervousness or lack of strength to hold a paperback in one hand for longer than a minute, either could be possible. “I figured a way to make amends was to come back and purchase it.”

I looked down at the book and looked back up at him. Sincerity and boyish charm force me to hold the door open for him and let him in. When he comes in, his under eyes are darker, perhaps because he's a night owl, or because of his job. His hair is still fluffy like this morning but droopy.

He was prepared to call it a night before coming here. But thievery is apparently too heavy for this agent’s shoulders.

I walk to the register, booting up the fancy tablet. “So did you? Solve the case, I mean?”

“We did.”

I scan the barcode, luckily he didn’t ruin that. “And? Did she explain the Hemingway quotes at least?”

Silence, only for a moment. I see his hands digging into his pockets. He pulls out a debit card and hands it over. “He, actually.”

“What?”

“He didn’t explain the Hemingway quotes but said he targeted sex workers because they were ‘freer than he ever would be.’”

Silence swallowed the room immediately upon saying that but of a different kind. The kind that was ripe for me to brag and possibly even do a little dance. But I’m patient, and I don’t like interrupting people. I tap the screen slowly so the good doctor can gather the words. I even took another glance and his eyes were already locked on me. It would’ve made me jump if he didn’t follow it with “You were right.”

There it is. “Hmm,” I say as I keep the arrogance down to a minimum as I contemplate my next words. I take his receipt and scribble before bagging the book. “So do I get a one-way ticket into the bureau, or do I take your place or —”

“Thank you for your help." He says slowly as if he were being ordered to apologize. Like he wrote these words in a document before coming here. “Your observation sent us in the right direction.” His hand is out, waiting.

I also have a talent for dragging things out. When I shut the techy stuff down again, I go back around and hand them to him, so I can get closer. Read his face. When he reaches out and just touches the paper, I jerk the bag back. “That’s not what you want to say.” I let the bag dangle off two of my fingers, shamelessly drinking in the moment. “Come on, it’s gotta be killing you.”

He rolls his eyes. Briefly, but enough for me to notice. “What could be killing me?”

“That you, an FBI agent, with two PhDs —”

“Three PhDs.”

This is so fun. “Three PhDs was outsmarted by a girl who works in a bookstore. Merely a bachelor's on my resume.”

“That is not the case.” He says.

“It seems relevant to the case now.” That intended to burn, and it did. Scorched actually. I could feel it from here, so I walked to the back to find the lights, expecting him to follow me.

He did. The creaking of the old wood floors echoed as we walked, there was no rhythm or synced steps, just two different walking patterns, one at ease and the other eager. “Just tell me how you figured it out.” He says. “Hemingway has been praised for his writing style and the way he wrote certain female characters but his macho personality indicated he enjoyed nothing feminine.”

A chuckle might have been appropriate, but I replied with a stark laugh. A bold “Ha!” As I opened the lightroom door. “Because macho men are known for being the happiest people on Earth, according to history.” With a click, the lights flickered steadily before turning off. I had my phone flashlight ready, though. “Honestly, Dr. Reid, it might be worthwhile to take a break from reading and watch a documentary on the man. It adds up quickly, even someone like you would get it.” I let the flashlight guide me back to the front, avoiding collateral damage from bookshelf corners.

Until Dr. Reid stepped in front of me, causing my head to collide with his chest. Somehow, I didn’t drop my phone and instinctively reached for my nose. “Someone like me?”

“Ow, first of all. But yes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I rub my nose in the dark. “That even a predictable bookish boy like you can eventually come to grips with the fact that he doesn’t know everything.”

“And you do?” He asked.

“I never said that,” I admitted.

He looked at me skeptically. Even in the dark, I could feel my arrogance might have gotten the best of me here. I tried looking away, to another dark space.

He, however, did not. “What else did you say? Predictable?”

“You mean you don’t remember?”

He sighs, and air from his nose brushes above my lip.

Then so does his hand in my hair.

His lips, though, were quite the opposite. As if all his frustrations couldn’t take it anymore and needed to be let out with a teeth-smashing, saliva-coated spectacle (that no one could see. Not even us.) All I felt was wandering hands and the wall hitting the back of my head before he pulled away. His hands are still on my waist, and he breathes sharply in and out. “Was that predictable?” I heard him swallow.

I contemplated my response for a short while, wondering which one, a yes or a no, would get him to do it again. So instead, I just grabbed where I assumed his head would be and jerked him down to meet my lips again. It worked. His hands wrapped tight as if he glued himself to my skin. “Will you get reprimanded by your team for being somewhere you aren’t?” I ask between breaths and lip separation.

“Maybe. I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

“I won’t admit anything,” I said. Whether it was to see Dr. Reid’s night turn out worse, or to keep a secret from his boss about a makeout session in a bookstore, I’m not sure. But his body was thin, layered with clothes. Warm.

“What will you admit to?” He whispers, moving our bodies, begging for more kisses. Or just more.

“Dinner?”

“For?”

“Education purposes, Dr. Reid.” My hands can’t help but explore. “Seems like we’ve got a lot to learn.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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heartfullofleeches · 6 months

Text

Clown Reader's biggest fans-

Interviews have never been easy- When you're on set the camera just disappear, but surrounded by all these blistering lights you feel singled out. It's different from being the center of attention and more like you're in the middle of an interrogation.

The interviewer checks through their notes. "Now, Y/n - While doing some research into your show, our team happened to notice there are three reserved seats in the crowd at all given times, but nobody ever sits in them. Who are they for?"

Your relief is palpable. At least they were starting off with simple questions. "Oh! They're for Bebe, Grinny, and Charlie."

The interviewer scans through the papers, brows raised. "Grinny?"

"They're my friends. My starting crew if that makes things easier, but they mean so much more than that. When I was began my career as a entertainer they were the ones I brought with me to help with the kids. They're a bit worn out now and a little scary to the little tikes so the producers wouldn't let them join me on the show, but it's not like I'd just leave them behind."

"Uh-huh.... Go on?"

"Bebe is the jokester of the group. She's this clown doll I got as a yard sale with stretchy arms and legs. She gives the best hugs and always knows how to make me laugh when I'm down. I still get my best material from her. Grinny is a bit of crybaby. He's a puppet with the biggest smile, but don't let that fool you. He taught me and the kids it's okay to not to not always feel happy. Charlie.... Charlie is my guardian angel. They've always watched over me and been my voice of reason. They're a mannequin I glued wings and a bunch of eyes on when I was bored. I don't know where I'd be without any of them. We've been through thick and thin, and thinner together. It"s save to say they're my biggest fans...."

You slap your hands over your mouth. "Ah! Please don't release that part. I'd hate for the kids to get jealous, haha!"

"We'll cut it out in editing. Thank you, Y/n. We'll take five to let you get some air."

"Alright." Excusing yourself from the table, you walk over to the opposite side of the stage - stepping behind the curtains leading to the dressing rooms. The door to your room is slightly ajars - large button eyes peaking from the crack.

"Bebe!" Rushing over, the large doll falls into your arms as you swig the door open. Her arms rest over your shoulders as you support her weight - sewn lips pressed to your cheek. Laughter erupts from your chest as you attempt to push her back into the room only for her to fall right back into your arms.

"I missed you too, but at least let me get through the door first. Were you eavesdropping again?" The doll doesn't answer as you scoop your arms beneath her legs and carry her inside. The camera crew had been known to move your dolls around to mess with you before so her off placement doesn't surprise you. You carry her over to the couch where Grinny laid on the pillow you always used for your naps. He never faired well without you so it was the best thing for him. Charlie was always off on their own. Bebe does get on their nerves, but you know it's because they miss you too and want to be alone with their feelings. You wheel the mannequin from beside your dresser and over to the couch as you then crawl upon in between the doll and the puppet.

"Thanks for always being here for me, guys. I owe it all to you. Please wake me up in five minutes, Charlie."

You close your eyes as you rest your head on the cushion of Bebe's soft body - a plush hand stroking through your hair as you drift off to sleep.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere blurb #clown reader #yandere drabble #soft yandere

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giorno-plays-piano · 6 months

Text

Office Menace

Pairing: boss!Toji Fushiguro x reader

Warnings: dubcon, power play, unhealthy work dynamics, swearing, smut, attempt at humor.

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Being your boss' favorite employee is no easy task.

_________

Toji Fushiguro is the type of boss everyone hates and loves at the same type.

There wasn't a day he actually showed up on time. All his calls before 11 am end up being sent to his voicemail, regardless of the situation. Emails? He has his secretary sort all of his stuff for him. Reports? Haven't done one himself in a very long while. Overtime? Never for him, of course. He's outta there long before 5 pm. His employees, though? It's better not to ask.

He's such a slacker most people who don't work close with him wonder how he ended up as a vice president, overseeing a department of more than 50 employees. This guy probably spends more time in a gym than in his office.

But his people know why Toji is here, thriving even more than an utter workaholic Nanami Kento. Despite his seeming lack of interest and necessary skills to handle the job, Toji is sharp and observant, and his problem-solving ability is god-tier. Unlike many of you, he never sweats the small stuff. There wasn't a day when he cracked under pressure, even when one of your biggest suppliers suddenly went out of business, leaving you hanging on a thread with a horrifying deficit of goods. Even Geto was on a verge of a mental breakdown that day, but your boss just left the room, made a couple of calls, and returned an hour later with three more factories willing to pull the weight of that bankrupt supplier with less than one month delay. It was a freaking miracle. You still aren't sure how he managed to do it, but it's likely thanks to his impressive network and a sixth sense: Toji Fushiguro can smell smoke long before fire starts. He never comes unprepared.

That's not why his employees love him, though. Regardless of their annoyance at his style of work, they rarely leave because Toji is one of the few bosses who values his resources, and his resources are his people. When the company was going through a severe restructuring, letting go of more than a third of its workers, Toji's department retained the majority of his employees. He fought for them over and over until he wore down higher management and HRs so much they started avoiding him like the plague. To this day, some of your coworkers remind him of his heroic feat when they get drunk enough at the corporate parties.

Besides, while most of you do unpaid overtime, you get rewarded for it with bonuses and other perks like additional vacation days he somehow beats out of management. "We work hard and play hard," says Toji before he goes out for lunch at 12 and disappears from the office for the rest of the day.

He is, surely, a legend.

Jokes aside, you still remember vividly one day when you were supposed to have a significant presentation in front of the heads of departments, including Gojo, Geto, and Kento, and an hour before you discovered a mistake in your calculations because you collected data from the wrong time period. Blood drained from your face when you realized you had an hour to re-do all the formulas that could possibly change the outcome of the whole analysis you had spent weeks working on. If you didn't make it right, your mistake would affect all the crucial decisions made while developing the new collection. You were done.

When Toji found you a couple of minutes later, nearly sobbing and shaking in your seat, he quietly took a chair, sat next to you, and asked you to explain what the problem was. After you told him, biting your lips to shreds, he shrugged, compared the raw data from those two periods, found 4% difference in sales, and asked you to leave the report be. The change was insignificant. It wasn't going to affect the outcome of your analysis, and no one would even see your mistake. They would, however, see your puffy face and think you're unfit to give presentations of this sort if you couldn't handle the pressure.

So Toji just brought you a glass of water, told you to go powder your nose, and left as you stared at his broad back, unblinking, unsure if you wanted to keep crying or fly to him and kiss him all over his handsome face instead.

Least to say, Toji Fushiguro will always be a legend to you, regardless of circumstances.

Or not, given the situation you are in right now, your boss standing right behind your back with his hand not-so-subtly caressing your ass.

You bite down on your lower lip, thinking feverishly if you need to scream - given it's 9 pm and the office is empty - or smack him and run for your life. Both options seem worthless, and, to make it worse, you suck at confronting people. Especially someone as menacing and effortlessly cool as your boss.

While you're stuck in your thoughts, Toji moves his hand to pull your skirt up, and his large hand cups your pussy through your panties as you squeal. His breath warms your ear when you finally manage to utter a single, "S-Sir?"

You can feel him smile against your skin, his lips on your neck. "Sh-h-h. You're safe with me. I won't do anything you don't want."

Respectfully, you are a liar, Sir, you think because you sure as Hell don't want him to stuck his hand between your thighs and do this. Sleeping with your boss, even if he's as handsome as Toji Fushiguro, is a bad fucking idea. But you can't for the life of you get those words out of your mouth, and his fingers are already stroking your clit as you breath out loudly, shivering against his large form.

"Sh-h-h-h," he repeats, making you lean onto him as he moves your panties to the side, his other hand gently caressing your throat. "It's just me. I won't hurt you."

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to at least make it seem like you find his touch repulsive. Your brain refuses to recognize the fact your boss is actually forcing you to have sex with him. Toji Fushiguro? The man who's paying your salary? The one person who's been anything but respectful to you and your colleagues? It must be a mistake. He'd never do anything like that to you, one of his favorite employees.

He does enjoy having power over you, though, given the satisfaction on his face whenever you call him "Sir" despite how outdated it seems to use this word in a business setting. He wears this strange expression every time you wholeheartedly compliment him on helping his team with something only he can do like he's some sort of your personal hero. You didn't think much of it, but now it seems like...

Oh god, he's so fucking good at fingering you bite back a moan, afraid to make a sound. He's been teasing your swollen clit so much your pussy is drenched, and your knees are trembling. What the fuck? He only just touched you.

"Feels good, huh?" He whispers in your ear as you squirm, desperately clenching the desk in front of you for support. "Wish I could eat you out right here."

"S-sir!"

Apparently, it's the only thing you can say while he fingerfucks you, his long, thick digits working your sex, his other hand lightly squeezing your throat. You grow feverish at his touch, unintentionally rubbing against his crotch as your pussy tightens around his fingers, and Toji exhales into your skin.

He doesn't give you a second to think, pumping his fingers in and out of you as if he wants you to think with you pussy, his hand on your throat squeezing it till you are a bit lightheaded, you hole growing tighter.

Everything else happens like in a dream with you cumming on his fingers before he turns your head to him and forces his tongue inside your mouth. He's magic. You still think it's wrong for him to do it to you, but it feels good, and you are far too intimidated by him to say a word against it when you feel his huge boner pressed against your ass. It feels so fucking good.

But Toji ends it there, carefully pulling your skirt down before he hands you a pack of napkins you keep on your table. When you look at him, bewildered it's ended just like that, he laughs and tells you to be a good girl and meet him tomorrow at 7. He's far from done with you.

_______

Tags: @minshookie29

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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novlr · 9 months

Note

How to write the heat?

Quick Tips on How to Write Heat

Heat can have many connotations in your stories beyond just temperature. It can be a sensation, an event, or even a metaphor for something else. The way a character internalises or experiences heat will also be unique to them, so here are some quick tips on how to use imagery to convey heat in a variety of ways.

In Nature

Use colours like red, yellow, or orange

Parched scenery, like cracked earth and dry leaves

Bright sunlight

Mirages

Blistering winds

Heat waves radiating from hot asphalt

Animals huddling in the shade

Wide and barren landscapes

Hot sand to contrast with cool water

Wilting vegetation and a change in colour

The sound of cicadas

Foods and Objects

Hot peppers with bright colours

Spicy dishes (and how characters handle them)

Melting ice cream and frozen drinks

The sizzling sound of food in a hot pan

The smell of a barbeque

Cold drinks that provide relief

Flip flops, shorts, and tank tops

Sunscreen and hats

Metal and leather that is too hot to touch

Salt or minerals left on surfaces after liquid evaporates

Faded colours on objects left in the sun

Peeling paint

The hiss of steam from a kettle

Character Moods

Short-tempered

Lazy

Discomfort

Easily frustrated

Disinterested

Relaxed

Energised

Joyful

Exhausted

Adventurous

Anxious

Fearful

Irritable

Lethargic

Contemplative

Restless

Overwhelmed

Rejuvenated

Impatient

Distracted

Apprehensive

Isolated

Embarrassed

Motivated

Character Body Language

Wiping sweat from their faces

Fanning themselves

Shifting uncomfortable

Sluggish movements

Licking lips and swallowing due to dehydration

Shedding layers of clothing

Unconsciously moving toward the shade

Constantly drinking

Breathing heavily

Squinting or shielding eyes

Flushed skin

Panting or shallow breathing

Avoiding physical contact

Actions and Events

Seeking shelter during a heatwave

Roadtrips in a hot car with the windows open

Swimming at a pool, lake, or a beach

Sharing drinks with friends at a cafe, bar, or beer garden

Planning holidays to cooler climates

Staying indoors to read to watch TV where it’s cool

Watching the sunset or sunrise when it’s cooler

Going out at night to avoid the heat of the day

Beach parties and barbeques

Wildfire warnings

Outdoor markets and garage sales

Camping trips

Positive Aspects

Heat can be a time of joy, where families and friends can enjoy time together doing outdoor activities not available to them the rest of the year. Food becomes lighter, the days are longer, and people tend to get more exercise. There are also positive ways to describe the juxtaposition of something hot after immediately experiencing the cold, like a hot drink on a cold day.

Negative Aspects

Not every association with heat is positive. Hot weather brings environmental damage like droughts and wildfires that affect agriculture and wildlife. It can also lead to physical discomfort, like heat rash, dehydration, sunburn, sleep disruption, or being forced to work or exercise in uncomfortable environments.

Helpful Synonyms

Scorching

Blistering

Temperate

Boiling

Fiery

Burning

Inferno

Glowing

Simmering

Sweltering

Torrid

Steaming

Tropical

Flaming

Feverish

Stifling

Roasting

Searing

Tropical

Radiant

Common metaphors

Passion or desire

Anger and conflict

Pressure or stress

Excitement and energy

Change or transformation

Danger or warning

Life and vitality

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rs-hawk · 2 months

Text

Love this post by @microsff

You went to a garage sale to see what you could find. You had been working on so many projects that you were hoping to get parts for cheap, when you saw an Andrew the Android. He was sitting on a table, swinging his feel that barely scraped the ground. He was an early version. It was easy to tell by his stocky build, and the way he barely looked humanoid. Newer ones looked more human.

“How much is he?” you asked the man sitting by a lock box, pointing to Andrew.

“You don’t want that one,” the man grinned, showing off all his teeth in a way that made you frown. “It’s a weird one. Sent it up to clean my gutters in a storm, you know, testing out that ‘waterproof’ feature.”

“Uh-huh,” you said unsurely, shifting on your feet slightly.

“And it got struck by lightening. Been odd ever since. Telling me to call it ‘Andy’ and asking me questions. Didn’t think these ones of them were meant to be so annoyingly human.”

“I still want him. How much?” you insisted.

You and the man go back and forth for a bit before you finally handed him a small wad of cash. A giddy feeling fluttered in your chest as you approached him. He looked up at you, a blank look on his expressionless face.

“Hi there. I’m Y/N. I just bought you,” you explained as you offered him your hand. “I’m so excited that I found an early Andrew. You’re one of my favorite androids of all time.”

“Andy, please,” was his response. He held up his hands, no, claws, as if to apologize for not shaking yours. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You brought him home, and he settled in quickly. One day, he greeted you at the door.

“Can you make me hands?” he asked.

“Why? Your claws work better, and you can swap them out with other attachments,” you asked back as you started gathering things for the project you were working on.

“I want to pet your cat.”

“You can’t even feel her fur though.”

“But she can. And I want her to like me petting her.”

You paused, thinking for a moment. “Alright. I can build you hands.”

“I also want to learn guitar. Can you make sure I have good fingers?”

That made a grin crack your face. “Yes, I’ll make you good fingers.”

You two lived in good harmony for awhile, until one day, he showed you a book. “Why is one character being called ‘they’?”

“Oh, because they’re non-binary.”

He nodded as he went back to the book. “I think that fits me better than he.”

You nodded back at them, scrolling through your phone. “Okay.”

Another day, they come to you, holding a book with a picture of a flute. “Can you build me a mouth? And move my port?”

“You want to learn to play the flute?” you asked curiously, looking at the book, their fingers curling around the pages.

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

They took to the flute much better than the guitar, but you don’t say anything. Even when they wake you up in the middle of the night. They’re still not very good, but you enjoy hearing their progress.

Yet again, they come to you, showing you a magazine with synthetic skin and hair on an android. They don’t say anything as they hand it to you, looking down.

“Okay. I’ll take you in and let you pick everything out,” you say as you hand them back the magazine.

“Do you think I’ll really be able to feel?” they asked nervously, rolling the magazine up into a tube.

“Maybe. Why?”

They looked away, and you thought if they were human, they would have blushed. “I want to pet your cat.”

“You pet her all the time.”

“I want to be able to feel it too.”

As always, you nodded. “It’s worth a shot at least then, right?”

Andy went in many times for many more modifications on top of the ones they asked you to make for them. Over the span of months, but in a way that hit you all at once, you fell in love with them. The way they laughed. How excited they were to learn. How excited they were to just be.

“Hey, Y/N! Andy! Welcome in yous guys. I got the room set up. Andy’s got a surprise for you, Y/N. You’re gonna let Andy pick out everything as always, yeah?” the mechanic greeted the two of you as you stepped inside.

You thought it was a little odd she just kept saying “Andy” instead of “they” but you brushed it off. “Yeah Sal. It’s Andy’s body. They can do what they want.”

Andy and Sal shared a grin before you were ushered into the waiting room. A couple hours later, a dark haired woman came out, her hair styled into a neat bun on the top of her head. Her eyes were green, your favorite color. There was a softness to her face and features, as well as a stockiness to her build. She reminded you of Andy, in a way, so you returned her smile.

Sal came up behind you, gesturing to the woman. “What do you think?”

“Oh she’s lovely, perfectly stunning, but you know I’m just waiting on Andy,” you said with a frown and furrow of your brows.

“Hi Y/N,” the woman said shyly, looking down at her feet.

“Andy?”

“I mean, I guess, but I want a new name.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know yet.”

You tilted your head, looking at her curiously. “But you already know every name that there is to know.”

A sweet smile touched her lips as she walked over to you, taking your hands in hers. “I don’t know how they sound when you say them yet.”

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grimesgirll · 7 days

Text

somewhat obsessed with the idea of wearing rick’s boxers.

it’s like second nature to you. it has to be.

after every time you slid into bed, every time rick and daryl strip you of your own undergarments, every time they fuck you dumb, everytime rick maneuvers you into your position bundled against his chest, you’re wearing a pair of his boxers.

the two had been surprised at first when they found you face down on the bed after a long day in nothing but a tiny tank top and rick’s blue and white striped boxers.

it took everything in them not to pounce on you right then and there. but when you woke up, you were more than happy to fess up to stealing rick’s boxers to wear as shorts.

rick could barely contain himself one afternoon in alexandria. you were taking judith on a wholesome stroll but you were wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts with a soft, white long sleeve and one of rick’s white button ups thrown on. later, he had to explain to you that he wasn’t snubbing you when you caught sight of him and tried to wave him over, just trying to keep his zipper from busting.

you had just laughed and quipped that they were the perfect bottoms.

from then on, rick found his boxer shorts going missing; on runs, he’d found you in the men’s underwear section, stripping down to try on a pair of striped ralph lauren boxers. that’s how the two of you ended up sweating and shamelessly blushed out on the cramped car ride home.

the rose painting your countenance couldn’t cease because you knew you smelled like sex. rick too. from the creamy ring you’d left around his cock as he lifted you off of him and onto the mahogany sales table, you knew you two had overdone it. with the wide block of time you had today to secure supplies, rick felt free to fuck your pussy twice, filling you up enough to have you seen stars on the sales floor.

all because you’d styled his underwear as shorts.

daryl teases his friend about it.

“can’t even wake up without seein’ her in ‘em and gettin’ hard.”

daryl’s a hypocrite however.

even the woodsman isn’t immune to your figure in those boyish bottoms.

it’s twenty-five minutes into your small game hunt when daryl’s hands are in your boxers. you had actually wanted to catch a rabbit or some quail, but once your boyfriend’s fingers are between your folds, you can’t find the will to complain.

the two of you start with him holding you against a hemlock, arms wrapping around you while he fingers you nice and slow, boxers down around your ankles. as he massages your plush walls, daryl counts how casual you are about going commando as one of his blessings.

then it turns. then suddenly there’s a pine needle in your mouth. you spit the green thing out and try to brace yourself against the forest floor. it had happened so fast; his tongue tag teaming you with his fingers to crack you open like a safe in record time. then you were face down with nothing but a denim jacket quickly strewn beneath you.

you love when he or rick spring this kinda thing on you - it’s spontaneous, wild, a little risky in all the right ways. yes, most nights you’d prefer to be rolled up into a blanket burrito with your boys and a glass of wine but the adventures like this really do something for you.

pupils expanded, your chest is heavy when daryl’s the first to come out of your post-romp fog and collect your boxers. your legs are still shaking when the fabric touches your skin.

“daryl!”

you’d protested when the man began to pull up your boxer briefs. full of his cum, you want to clean up before you soil your bottoms but daryl disregards the swats to his hands. slightly annoyed, you hurried ahead of him through the tract of woods back towards alexandria. it’s fine. he just enjoyed the view of your ass.

complaints crawl out of your mouth as soon as you’re in the door and you’re haphazardly hanging your rifle on the wall. daryl brings in the rear behind you while you’re stomping up the stairs to rick.

your chocolate curled lover is taking off his watch, ready to drop it into the ceramic dish on the dresser when you appear next him, shimmying down your bottoms in a huff.

“hey, darlin’,” he greets, expecting more than a scowl from you.

“hey,” you reply curtly, face still in a pout.

“-make sure you don’t take off those boxers, baby-,” daryl stops dead in his tracks at the sight of your bared pussy in the bedroom lamplight. rick’s also taking it in, eyes trailing from your waist to the trimmed bush, and the puffy pink pussy peeking out, now leaking with daryl’s sticky cum.

you bend over to pick up the soiled shorts. “you’re not the only one who likes these,” you point out.

blue eyes narrow. but before he can give you any lip, you’re giving him not one, but both of yours. smashed against your mouth, rick’s tongue delves between those pillowy lips while walking you towards the bed where daryl’s waiting to situate you on his lap once more. daryl’s antics weren’t enough to turn off the blazing furnace between your legs. no, your temper can handle a few more rounds. it’s not hard when your mind paces back to the eye rolling, all consuming inferno that had cyclones through your core.

they trap you in a kiss. sandwiched between both of their hard ons, you’re shifting and grinding in each direction.

“thought you were pissed off with me,” daryl breathes into your ear, fingertips skimming your waist.

you snort, leaning back into him to grant full access to your bared neck. without hesitation, he’s licking a wicked pattern up the column of your neck. “dare’,” you sigh. gasp after gasp, you melt into his touch.

daryl’s hands are beneath the fat of your rear already and all of the sudden, one of rick’s fingers has snaked its way down to your clit. the fervid flicking against your ardor flush tissue culls any anger you could have towards the two men. you can’t even think about holding a grudge once rick gets a finger into you. at two fingers, daryl’s kissing you with the ferocity of a wildfire. three fingers inside of you and you’re babbling;

“rick, faster, please.”

“what was that?”

“please - faster, can you please?”

the grin on his face is as wide as the pacific. his lips turn upwards into a sly smile. “you want somethin’ a little faster, darlin’?” you shake your head as if it’s obvious. he hmmphs. “you oughta’ sit on daryl’s cock.”

you can’t imagine a world where that’s an unpopular idea.

back onto daryl you go.

those hands at your hips come in handy; daryl raises you a few inches once rick’s removed his fingers. eyes focused on rick and the way his mouth closes around one pruning finger. sucking it clean while daryl’s tip brushes your slick entrance. any yearning radiating off of you can’t be hidden. that kind of heat and wetness down between your thighs is no lie.

so a hiss is to be expected when the muscled man wiggles his way into you. rick is saving a mental image of you - adjusting to the familiar stretch of daryl. your blush doesn’t ease once daryl works another half inch inside.

one moment you’re trying to process daryl’s cock as it’s suddenly seated in you to the hilt. the next rick catches your gaze again. this time he’s doing more than teasing you, taking advantage of your parted lips to invade with his tongue.

“rick,” you mumble against his lips.

“you gettin’ close, angel?”

“should feel ‘er,” daryl rasps. with each thrust of his you’re clinging to rick. “so fuckin’ tight like you didn’t get this perfect pussy fucked in the woods.”

“that’s where you guys went?”

your mischevious grin is hidden in the crook of rick’s necks. the telltale tightening around daryl’s length is all consuming. your grin turns into an open “o” shape when daryl drags across your cervix. sensations from your convulsing core are consuming him too.

that same lust from the woods washes over daryl like the tide and you’re the moon, pulling him in and leading him to crash into you. usually this is rick’s wheelhouse, but one glance into daryl’s darkened pupils and you’re ripped from rick. on top of daryl’s lap, you’re wrapped in his arms, bouncing up and down on the rock hard cock beneath you. he sets the pace while you can only claw at his chest. he returns the favor and reaches forward to palm your tit, relishing in your sweet moans when he rolls a hardened bud between two fingers.

riding him on the bed is such a break for your knees compared to the forest floor. gyrating your hips activates not only the core that keeps you fit but the molten hot bundle of nerves at your core. daryl ruts against you deliciously to deliver just the perfect level of pressure.

rick can’t help but be bewitched at everything unfolding on the surface of the mattress. daryl’s length disappears inside out of you, reappearing with each erratic movement of your hips. there’s no reason to be jealous but if looks could kill, daryl’d be dead simply for the privilege of burying himself inside those heavenly walls.

meanwhile, heat bursts down below like a mini neutron star collision within you. forehead cast with sweat, the energy is fading from your movements as you messily move your pelvis to brush against daryl.

a “fuck, baby,” escapes from his lips and you’re done for. and so is he.

shooting into the sheets and collapsing by your side. you’re prepared to slide into daryl’s embrace when there’s suddenly a familiar feeling breaching your bared pussy.

nails dig into your hips and daryl’s back at it again - lapping his tongue up and down your slit. you were thinking that you two would at least catch your breaths but daryl’s taking no breaks. rick isn’t either.

in true rick fashion, he’s tapping your lips with his impressive cock. how can you say no to that?

you open your mouth and moan around his cock once you feel those devious fingers in your hair. it’s like that sense of overwhelm’s been replicated again. tongue against your clit and yours on the underside of rick, you never imagined your afternoon going this way. all this thanks to your little fashion trend.

“princess, your mouth feels amazing.”

you bob your head in appreciation. just like daryl’s taking care of you, you’re taking your time swallowing around the man in your mouth, treating him to the tight embrace of your throat.

“you like gettin’ a cock down your throat while daryl licks you stupid?”

“mhmmm!” you nod forward onto rick.

as soon as your moans reach daryl’s ears, his tongue’s kicking into hyperdrive. goaded by your delightful little whimpers, daryl begins swabbing a vicious pattern across your folds. the redneck alternates between racing over your sopping tissue to flattening that tongue and saddle you with a finger.

“ooommph,” is the only sound that comes out with rick’s steel hard cock down your throat.

spit slick, rick throbs in your mouth. that painful hardness he’s enduring is granted some sweet relief by your hollowed cheeks. you don’t stop there. driven by the lust addled, cock crazy part of your brain, you’re fully sending rick down your airway. breaths come briefly when he lets you up for air or to howl or cry, “dare’!”

right on time, your core is heating up again. the kiln inside of you scorches. neutralizing you, the ecstasy of another orgasm has you nearly folding into your leader. the blue eyed sheriff even leans back, tugging you up by the hair to keep you from actually choking on his cock. daryl’s diligent puckering around all of your important parts is overwhelming you against, a strategic hand on your clit as well.

as if you were all in sync, rick comes in your mouth first, fingers weaving through your gossamer locks while your thighs quake. you gag at first, before swirling your tongue under the twitching cock and swallowing it all. like a good girl.

once rick’s coming undone, daryl continues swirling his tongue around you. your pussy weeps for him. it contracts around his tongue until even rick’s raising his eyebrows at the vulgar slurping sounds filling the room.

“dare’,” you whine.

“gonna’ be a good girl and come all over dare’s tongue?” rick teases.

“yes, please!” you beg, banging a fist against the sheets.

“you gonna’ let daryl taste all of that perfect pussy?”

tears well in your eyes from the overstimulation but you nod as enthusiastically as possible. “pleeaase!”

you don’t have to ask again because you’re too busy arching into your third orgasm of the day. clenching and unclenching, your insides flutter. “ah!”

“so pretty when you come, baby.”

you’re dissolving into rick’s touch as your climax rings through your cunt. starry eyed and panting the pleasure out through your lungs.

you could fall asleep right there. and you do.

it ends as it always does.

following the flush and the lips leaving the surface of your skin, you feel a familiar fabric traveling up your thighs and double kisses mandating that nap that had been on your mind. the bed and the cozy comfort of sleep swallows you whole. rick too. he can never get close enough, not when you’re wearing his boxers.

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