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tylerposey · 2 months
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NEIGHBOURS (1985 - )
Daaron + Episode 8972
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st-kitten · 4 months
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WARNINGS: (m.) masturbation, nicknames (baby, babygirl, good girl, princess, pretty girl) little megumi being painstakingly adorable
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life as a single father trying to make ends meet was hard for toji fushiguro. his job as a security guard for some company didn't pay much. whatever he earned went into bills, rent, and groceries, leaving next to nothing for him to save or even spend. how he wished there was a simpler way to earn. he'd be exhausted by the time he came home and crashed, only to be woken up by megumi. as much as he loved the kid, getting him ready for school and out the door was harder than an mma fight.
all the babysitters he hired were useless. most of them agreed just to get into his pants so, when they found out that they were hired 'because' he couldn't be home, they left in disappointment.
toji never relied on his neighbours either. partially because they were too old or kids themselves, with parents who also hired babysitters. the closest anyone ever came to being a candidate was his next door neighbour, you.
but he vowed to never approach you. even if it meant leaving megumi to cry midday, over a glass of spilled milk. why?
[flashback]
toji had just helped megumi catch the school bus. waving him goodbye, he went back inside the building. the days got colder each passing day, which meant that he was going to have to repair the broken heater and buy some warm clothes. how ever was he going to afford it in time?
collecting the mail, he stood in the temporary warmth of the elevator, yawning. he really wanted to go back to sleep. his work began at 10 am, so he still had two hours, maybe he could take a nap. or fix that heater himself.
he stood in front of his apartment, looking through his pockets for the keys when he heard muffled noises from the apartment next door. he had only seen you once, when he accidentally took your mail instead of his and had to give it back to you. you always seemed distant and cold, so hearing you softly, yet loudly screaming a series of "yes! yes! keep doing that!" at 8 am made him wonder what the fuck was wrong with you.
he let it slide. people had lives.
but you didn't stop there. when toji came back from his work at night, holding a bag of vegetables, he heard you again.
"oh god! yes!"
and two days later when toji brought megumi home early as he got sick in school, "just like that, baby!" he had to keep babbling random trivia to his son so that he wouldn't hear you. how many times is she going to do this?
when it was toji's day off, and he was taking a nap on the couch, he heard you moaning again. it wasn't that loud, but the single wall between your apartment and his did a terrible job at muffling it. toji was glad that megumi was at school.
[back in present time]
months had passed by and he was still not used to hearing you. he'd forgotten what you looked like, so he didn't recognise you whenever you passed by him or even when you were in the elevator with him. all he knew was that he hated you for being so disturbing.
the day he was dreading finally came when he wanted someone to look after megumi for the night as he had to cover someone's shift, and not a single person was available. with an ale tankard of reluctance, he rang the doorbell, truly expecting you to open it naked, some angry fucker peeking from behind 'cause he didn't get to finish...
so when you opened the door looking the complete opposite; wearing loose sweatpants, a barbie hoodie, house slippers and your hair tied in a messy bun, half a banana dangling in your mouth... toji held back a sigh of relief.
"hey... i'm toji, i live next door," he said, trying to sound sincere.
"i mow woo yooah," you said, chewing the banana quickly, and swallowed it.
"right... listen, i gotta cover an extra shift and i need someone to look after this brat for the night."
you held back a laugh upon hearing him refer to his son like that. you'd only seen megumi from a distance. but, you had no reason to refuse.
"sure! i'd be happy to!"
toji was still unsure about this, but there was no backing out now.
"cool. i'll send him in twenty minutes." toji vanished before you could say anything else. you chuckled to yourself. for a man of his size and built, he sure was a chicken when it came to communication.
you cleaned your living room before he could come back. your place was kid-friendly enough. you made sure you prep the kitchen in case he hadn't had dinner.
your doorbell rang and you scurried to open it.
"here's a list of things you'll have to do... he's... a little tough. but he's a good kid."
you took the list and gave it a brief look and nodded.
"alright, megs, you're gonna be staying with this lady today. i'll be back soo-"
megumi began tugging his father's pants grumpily, upset at his words.
"don't be like that, kid..." toji sighed. he didn't like to exhibit his personal life in front of others.
"please? i'll get you ice cream."
megumi's ears perked upon hearing ice cream. "chocolate?" he cooed.
"yes. now go inside."
clutching a tattered dog plushie (with two heads for some reason), he stepped inside your apartment, looking down.
toji knelt down to meet his eyes. straightening megumi's sweater, he said, "i'll be back tomorrow morning. behave, okay?" megumi nodded, almost on the verge of crying. you held back the 'awwws'.
"alright... i'm trusting you. don't f- mess it up," said toji, looking at you with a glare.
"i won't..." you just smiled solemnly. you'd say the same if you were in his position.
toji wanted to tell you to not have sex for that one night, but he chose not to add fuel to the fire. who was he to tell you not to fuck? if anything, he was mildly jealous that you got to enjoy it so much.
toji left and you turned back to megumi, who was standing in your living room, anxious to move a muscle.
you sighed. "hello, megumi. i'm y/n." you crouched down and held out your hand to him. he hesitated before holding three of your fingers and shaking them. you smiled.
"sorry about this... you don't know me at all and now you're stuck with me. must be weird."
megumi stayed silent. you got up and went to the kitchen, which was open and visible from your living room easily. you opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of chocolate milk that you'd gotten free with something.
"would you like some?" you shook the carton. megumi loved chocolate in any form. not wanting to sound too excited or desperate, he gave a curt nod. you poured him a cup of milk and handed it to him.
"you can sit down wherever you want."
megumi scanned the room and spotted a bean bag. he'd never seen one. he looked at you and then back at it.
"you wanna sit there? sure!" you placed a hand on his head and led him to the corner. you held his cup for him while he tried to sit. he immediately sank into the bean bag, hearing the sound of tiny malleable balls that shifted as he sat down. megumi's eyes widened as he tried not to bolt out of there. when he was settled down, he found it pretty comfortable. he liked how he could stretch his legs and sit at the same time.
"comfy, right?" you said, handing him his cup of chocolate milk. the way he held it with both hands made you want to scream in a pillow. no way that asscrack of a man was his father.
you went over the list once more. it was simple. bedtime was 9 PM, no allergies, likes sweet food, but easily gets a sugar rush, etc. you laughed at the numerous spelling mistakes in it.
"so, what do you like to do?" you asked, sitting down on the floor in front of him.
megumi didn't like talking to babysitters. mostly because they never paid attention to him. he didn't like how they bossed him around. or how they got mad when he asked them if they could play with him. so he would stay silent. nobody ever asked him what he liked to do, so your question caught him by surprise.
he thought about it. what did he like to do?
"paint..."
"you paint?" you asked. you always liked the idea of kids drawing and painting.
megumi nodded. he was obsessed with a box of paints his father had bought him ages ago. the paints were long dried and over. but he still dipped his brush into them, watering them and painting with whatever colour came out of it.
you didn't have paints or brushes that he could use... but an idea struck you and you wondered whether he'd like it.
"wanna paint my room?" you suddenly said.
megumi's eyes lit up with curiosity. won't your walls get damaged? what if he spilled paint on the floor? or on you?
"the walls in my room are sad and empty. i have some paint cans that the painters forgot about when i was renovating. there are some colours still left. what do you say?"
megumi nodded. you got up and went into your room, searching for a shirt you give him as overalls. you pulled out the paint cans from under your bed. you took an old shirt of yours and brought it to him in the living room.
megumi had finished drinking his milk, so he thought he'd keep the cup back. hearing you call his name startled him and he dropped the cup, watching it shatter into pieces. he tensed up and felt his eyes water. you were going to scold him, punish him, maybe even hit him. he deserved it. he broke your cup.
"oh my, are you okay?" you rushed to his side, crouching and checking him for wounds.
"sorry... sorr-" megumi tried his best not to cry. he was expecting an earful at any moment now.
"why?" it was all you asked.
megumi looked at you in shock.
"cup..."
you chuckled sympathetically. "so? cups break all the time."
"i break cup..."
you stood up, unsure of how to convince him that he did nothing wrong.
"okay... you broke the cup." there it was. you were angry. megumi was going to get scolded.
instead, he watched you pick another cup from the shelf. you took the cup, and angling it far from megumi, you threw it.
"and i broke a cup too. guess we're both clumsy..." you shrugged and picked up the pieces, swiping the rest with a broom and tossing them in the garbage.
megumi didn't know what to say. had he really done nothing wrong? it was just a cup... yeah, just a cup.
"come, let's paint my room," you held out your hand to him. slowly, he grabbed it, walking behind you towards your room. your hands were soft and warm. and you didn't pull him or drag him. instead you were walking slower just for him. why were you so kind?
you brought him to your room and asked him to help you spread newspapers on the floor. then you handed him a shirt, helping him put it on since it was huge for him. he looked like a penguin.
"megumi... please, i'll give you more chocolate milk, but can i please take your picture? you're too cute," you asked, clutching your heart.
megumi blushed and nodded, looking away.
you clicked at least twenty pictures of him in your shirt, holding a thick paintbrush, standing on newspaper barefoot. you made a mental note to send these to toji.
"alright, pick your colours."
megumi carefully scanned each colour. then he looked at you. he didn't want to mess up this opportunity. it wasn't every day that he got to paint a wall instead of paper. he wanted to make sure you'd like it.
you seemed the type of person who would appear stern, but on the inside, you were really soft and caring. like a marshmallow. he wanted the room to suit you. being the observant kid, he looked around the room and learned that you liked necklaces, most of which looked like fancy saturns (iykyk). you also liked flowers as there were vases on your nightstand, windowsill and some were on your bookshelves. you also had a lot of books. what really caught megumi's attention was that you had three guitars hung on the wall. your room was totally your personality. he knew what he wanted to paint.
megumi pointed to a few colours and you handed him a few brushes of different sizes. he dipped one in red paint and began painting a few strokes on the wall (only after glancing back at you a hundred times in case you changed your mind). you sat on the bed, watching him focus. he was definitely smarter than kids his age. you admired him.
after a while, you left the room, telling him that you were going to make dinner. curry rice got an approval from him, so you occupied yourself in the kitchen, humming to yourself. you wondered what all he had painted in your absence. you didn't really care about the wall; you only hoped he'd feel safe enough to be a child.
you finished cooking and plated the food, setting on the kitchen island you used as a dining table. you pulled a chair and stacked some couch pillows on it, increasing the height of the seat. you called to megumi, but he didn't answer.
you stepped into the room to call him for dinner again, but no words came from your mouth as you stared at your wall, awestruck.
megumi had painted so many flowers and vines that ran across your wall in different colours. he'd even mixed a few colours and created new ones. he drew the saturn orbs matching your jewellery in the center of some flowers. though he could only paint a part of it and couldn't reach higher, the wall looked full of life.
"megumi..."
he looked at you, anxious to hear what you had to say.
you stood behind him, admiring the wall.
"you made my wall magical. this is so beautiful!"
megumi had a tiny smile on his face.
"you're an artist, gumi" you said, ruffling his hair, and he blushed at the nickname you gave him. nobody ever gave him a nickname apart from his father. people would often forget his name.
he felt his chest swell with pride and happiness. he did a good job.
"let's put fairy lights on the wall!" you chirped and he nodded.
you helped him out of his shirt, tossing it into the laundry basket. you sat him down on the high chair and you both sat down for dinner. megumi liked the food. but he truly loved how you let him be himself without bossing him around. it finally dawned on him that he had broken your cup, painted your wall, and was eating your food and you had absolutely no problem with it. he felt himself breathe freely.
after dinner, he helped you clean the room and stick fairy lights all across your room. you went overboard with it, but when you switched them on and lay on the bed watching them twinkle, it felt worth it.
"we did a good job, today." you gave him a high five.
megumi yawned and you took it as a sign to prep him for bed. toji forgot to give you his toothbrush, so you tore him a new one. you wouldn't dare let a child sleep in the living room, so you tucked him in your bed. you were so glad you bought that expensive comforter because seeing megumi snuggle into it turned your eyes into beating hearts.
upon his request, you tucked in his ominous dog plushie with him and bid him goodnight. megumi fell asleep easily, snoring softly. you made rounds to the room to check on him and felt your heart melt every time. he was definitely an active sleeper. his positions would get bizarre every time and you'd pull the comforter on him properly each time.
you finally slept on your couch around midnight.
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toji didn't sleep a wink. the world's most boring job had him awake all night, opening gates for rich snobs who partied and returned to the semi-residential building at odd hours.
the only thing on his mind was megumi. he prayed that you weren't fucking someone with him in the house. he wondered if he'd eaten. he wondered if he was asleep right now. he hoped you gave him his demon dog to sleep with.
when dawn broke, he was out of there. he drove his dying truck straight to the parking and dashed out of the car. he decided to grab his and your mail, just so he'd have an extra excuse to knock on your door.
he didn't bother asking you for a key. he just yanked open the letterbox and it easily came into his hand. he grabbed whatever was in it.
"did you hear apartment 707? so loud.... that too in the morning"
"how could i not? but, im not surprised..."
toji heard two ladies gossip, waiting for the elevator. 707... his apartment was 706, so it had to be you. he was going to murder you.
he sped in and out of the elevator, rushing to your place. expecting to hear the sound of sex, he stopped in his tracks... you were not having sex? your door was conveniently ajar and toji spotted a few empty cans of paint outside.
he opened the door, peeking in, only to see... his adorable five year old son, jumping around and dancing with you to a christmas song, decorating a large tree in your living room. (christmas tree farm by the one and only... blondie)
if toji could explain how much he wanted to giggle at the sight, he would. but he only watched the two of you, leaning against the doorframe, hands folded, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
"where every wish comes true!!!" you sang, hanging the ornaments miscellaneously. megumi poked your leg and you picked him up, helping him tie a bell around a branch.
you swayed and danced to the beat with megumi on your shoulders, who laughed loudly.
toji felt his heart melt upon hearing his son laugh. he hadn't heard that sound in a long time.
he looked around and spotted a plate of half-eaten pancakes and glasses of milk. did you drink milk with him? he held back a laugh.
as you turned around, you spotted toji and nearly threw yourself in the tree.
"dad!" megumi chirped, happy to see his father. toji took it as an invitation to come inside. seeing megumi almost as tall as him, he chuckled and looked him in the eye.
"here's your ice cream, stinky," he said, holding a bag full of ice cream cups.
megumi giggled.
toji smiled widely and you sobbed at how cute the kid was. you placed him down and he ran to his father, clinging to his knee. you took the ice cream bag from toji and placed it on the kitchen counter taking the contents out.
[next song: under the tree by sam palladio]
you handed megumi a cup of chocolate ice cream and the uselessly small wooden spoon that came with it.
"which one do you want?" you asked toji who had yawned at least a dozen times by now.
"anything is fine."
you tossed him the pinkest strawberry ice cream cup. he rolled his eyes, but began eating it anyway. you sat next to him on the couch. megumi insisted on sitting under the tree, on the tree-skirt, looking up at the lights and the ornaments from below.
"oh! look!" you said, pulling your phone out to show toji pictures of little megumi in an oversized shirt holding a paintbrush.
"what's this?" toji asked. though his kid looked cute, he still didn't know what happened when he was away.
"yeah, he painted my wall," you replied.
"HE WHAT?" toji asked, surprised. megumi never misbehaved. but i guess he finally snapped.
"yeah! it's so beautiful, i can't stop staring at it," you began mumbling.
this kid ruined your walls and you're happy about it? he thought you'd scold him.
"come, i'll show you," you signalled him to follow you and toji did, worried about the mess his son had made.
he also did not want to see your room, given that he'd heard you have sex plenty of times for it to etch in his mind like a song that just doesn't fucking leave.
he was not expecting for your room to be so... pleasant and unsuspecting. you had a queen-sized bed with fluffy pillows, plants in the room, some equipment on the desk. hell, instead of sex, it smelled like coconut.
you showed him the art megumi had blessed your wall with.
"he's great at painting!"
toji's eyes widened at the intricate designs on the wall. had megumi really painted this? was he this good at it?
"it's... good..." toji didn't know what to say. he felt really sad that his son was capable of something so great and yet toji couldn't do more for him.
you smiled, somehow understanding what he was feeling. it was the same thing you felt about yourself when you realised your love for music.
toji asked you to send him the pictures and you complied. he looked around your room in silence, not knowing what to do. but he decided to address the former elephant in the room.
"can i ask you something?"
"sure," you said, looking down at your phone.
"i don't have the right to pry in your personal life, but... next time you have someone over, keep it down? i don't want megumi to hear... that..."
"huh?"
"you know... what you and your boyfriend do..."
"i don't have one?"
"then whoever you bring home to fuck... just please, keep the volume low," said toji impatiently.
"i didn't bring any... oh, you heard that!" you said as it dawned on you.
"yeah, whatever that is..." toji wanted to hide his face. it felt like giving a child 'the talk'. and you weren't that old too...
"toji..." you called, holding back your laugh. he wondered what was so funny.
"i'm not having sex in here. what you've been hearing..." you almost held it back... "was me recording for quinn."
"huh?"
you sighed as you explained, "it's an app for people who like listening to spicy stories... i'm one of their narrators... i try to pick times when people are busy or not here... but oh my god, i'm so sorry you had to hear that..." you said with a laugh, grabbing his arm apologetically.
toji digested every word you said.
"why on earth would you do that?"
"it pays really well, you know..." you shrugged.
now you had toji's attention. "you get paid for speaking dirty?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"and narrating, reading lines, moaning, whimpering, shouting... the works."
"that's an odd job..." he commented. it truly was. he had no idea things like these existed.
"i'm a singer by profession, so this is just a side hustle. my room is soundproof so i can't hear outside noises, but sadly..."
"you're not ashamed?"
"why would i be? it's great that people like it. you should try listening to some."
"please, no," toji held his palm out to her. he heard you chuckle. "aren't you worried that people might find out about you?"
"of course i don't use my real name."
toji shook his head in disbelief.
"i know you're ancient, but try it someday. who knows, you might end up liking it," you said, showing him the app on your phone.
toji stared at you with a blank face. he wasn't that behind the times, was he? he snuck a glance at your screen, his eyes falling on your username in a corner. embarrassed, he swatted your hand away and you chucked.
"anyway, thanks for looking after my kid." toji got up and left your room as you trotted behind him.
"anytime!"
toji left with megumi, after thanking you once more and making his kid to the same. megumi had definitely enjoyed he spent with you. he wished he could do it again.
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a few days passed by and megumi started to become more interactive with you, waving at you, telling about his day when you rode the elevator together, giving you some small sketches he made after you gave him a sketchbook and some colour pencils.
toji still hadn't warmed up to you, but he wasn't as dismissive as he used to be. in fact, he had gotten slightly curious about you. you lived a quiet life, or so it seemed on the outside. but he knew what you did and how unbothered you were about it.
why would people pay to listen to strangers moaning? it seemed bizarre to him. he tried to ignore it.
he was stuck on another night shift, leaving megumi with you. he was glad that his son didn't mind you. and you'd proven to be a capable babysitter. yet, all he wanted was to be near his son. home. the night couldn't get over any sooner.
toji sat in the booth provided to him, watching the streets. nights when people came and went by were just as boring as when nobody showed up. he contemplated taking a nap, but the last thing he wanted was to be fired for slacking off. especially when the night shift paid him a bit more.
he turned side to side in the swivel chair, groaning in frustration. so far, he'd watched eight mma matches on his phone, cussing at how pathetic they were. nothing entertained him enough to keep him awake.
that thing embedded in his subconscious mind suddenly resurfaced, making him gulp in guilt. he could do it. it's not like she'll know... as if he was being watched, toji switched the light off in his booth and discreetly took his phone out, lowering the brightness and pulling out a tangled pair of earphones, and plugged them in. he downloaded that app, signing in with a random email he'd created ages ago.
[mention; compromised: victoria pedretti, on quinn]
he remembered her username and typed it in. not wanting to dwell too much on it, he clicked on the first 'story' he saw. he didn't read the description. he had no idea what he was to expect. thankfully, the audio started with some context. he instantly recognised your voice. based on what he understood in the first few minutes of the introductory chapter, it was a story about an agent watching over the witness she was supposed to protect. he realised that it was a woman x woman story. not that he minded. he just enjoyed listening to your voice. you surely had a singer's voice.
the more he listened, the more engrossed he was in the plot.
"i can stay on the line, sure..." you said, as your character stood below a hotel, at a distance, watching the woman you were on the phone with, from the window, keeping an eye out.
"you're not wearing anything underneath... i might not be the only person watching, you know," you chuckled. your laugh sounded better all over, probably due to the recording quality. toji paid attention to everything he heard.
"...tell me where you're touching...does it feel good?"
"i wanna see your other hand on your breast..."
"do you want me in that room?" your voice was laced with quick breaths...
"now i'm gonna hang up...no, not to touch myself... I don't care that you're close!"
toji sighed in exasperation, truly engrossed in the story.
"wait, shit, there is a man... fuck i think he's armed..."
toji had never clicked on 'next' that fast in his life. okay, he was hooked. when he first heard about this from you, he thought it was just audio-porn. he didn't expect a full on story with a plot, internal monologue, the background noises. it was as if it was happening around him.
the next chapter had you grunt and scream as you fought some attacker. how on earth did she record this shit? was she also fighting in the apartment? he smirked, realising what a double life she was leading.
"i saw that smirk, don't get any ideas..." you said coincidentally and toji had to look around him for a moment.
"you're very, very distracting..." your voice seemed closer whenever the background music got fainter. maybe it was the mic or some technical tweaking. but it really sounded like you were speaking in his ear.
your pants were now mixed with small laughs. it sounded blissful.
"don't ever be sorry for kissing me..." toji was surprisingly okay with hearing sounds of you kissing, probably another woman.
"oh, these lips... can i? touch them? fuck..." you moaned slightly... and then laughed. "did you just bite my thumb? you're so bad... i might have to punish you."
toji had to grasp his phone tightly as heard you make out, hearing your breaths mingled with the sounds of your lips moving against someone else's. you sounded so different, so confident.
"you like that, don't you? me on my knees... touching you, licking you, tasting you..."
fuck
toji knew you were saying this to a woman, but he couldn't help picturing himself in her place. your hums, whimpers, breaths, they were all elevating his senses. he felt his pants tighten.
"yes, fuck..."
"i love your neck..." you panted. toji raised his head, gulping.
"you're so hot... fuck... me..." your moans had started to get louder, breathier.
"what if i don't wanna hurry? what if... i wanna make you beg for it?" toji instinctively let his hand wander down his body, to his pants. he loosened his belt. he slid his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to spring out, harder than he expected it to be. your constant moans, whimpers and dirty words became music to his ears as he stroked his cock slowly.
"tell me how good it feels..."
toji groaned, quickening his speed, his eyes closed, his mind visualising your face. he imagined you doing everything he heard you do on the phone. touching him, licking him, tasting him... he fisted his cock to the sounds of your sweet voice, shamelessly.
"so good..." he hissed, as if to answer you, gliding his fist up and down his thick veiny cock, its tip glistening proudly.
"come for me, yes! yes! yes! fuuuuck..." you moan loudly, dragging the last word, breathing shakily.
"god..." toji gave up any restraint he had and let his cock burst like a dam, spoiling his pants.
he was high. high on your voice, your moans, your words. he wished he could experience it for the first time again.
a shrieking honk from the gate snapped toji back into reality. he zipped back up in a hurry, shoving his half-hard cock in his pants. he tied a jacket around his waist to hide it and scurried out of the booth to open the gate.
toji came home early in the morning, feeling floaty. he couldn't forget last night's events. not when you were right there. next door. probably recording the next one. toji didn't know how he was to face you, but he was damn sure about hearing you again.
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and hear you he did. for days. he was finding the plot interesting too. but he was addicted to your voice. how were you so confident? how did you manage to record the perfect moans. did you have help? did you get off just to get a good audio? all these questions plagued toji's mind. he really wanted to ask you about it.
but how was he to do it without sounding like a creep? or worse, a pervert? but then again, you did till him about it yourself.
so, when he had to collect megumi from your house after coming back, he came up with the simplest excuse.
"see you later, gumi!" you ruffled his hair, watching him run to his father, who told him to go inside and wait for him.
before you could shut the door, he shoved his foot inside. "hey, uh... i had a question."
"come in..." you moved aside.
you were hungry, but didn't have the time to buy groceries. so, instant ramen it was...
toji followed you to the kitchen, rehearsing the imminent conversation in his head.
"what's wrong?" you asked, looking at his tensed brow.
"i'm a little starved for cash. megumi's birthday is coming and i want to give that urchin something good this time."
"awww..."
"you uh..." was he really going to ask that? would she even listen? "you were talking about that..."
you on the other hand, knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. so many of your friends had tried to do that same. the fact that toji was considering doing that made the composer in you mildly excited.
"you want to earn cash on quinn, am i right?"
toji's head shot up, looking at you, slightly horrified and ready to get his ass kicked out the door.
"alright."
"wait, what?"
"i'll help you... sell your voice."
"are you serious?"
"do i look like i'm joking?"
"would i even... be able to... you know..."
you leaned on the kitchen island, looking at toji, who had sat down in a chair across from you.
"just do it..."
"you expect me to do it just like that?" he asked.
"what, like it's hard?" you snorted.
toji just looked at you blankly. "you mean, you do it just like that?"
"women are expert at faking it, you know?" you smirked.
toji scoffed in disbelief, rolling his eyes.
wickedly, you began panting, whimpering, opening your mouth as lewd moans spilled out of you. you gripped the edge of the kitchen island, and whined, "yes! toji! just like that!"
toji felt like he'd been shot in the head... both, his heads... he felt a bulge in his pants. hearing you moan and actually seeing you moan were two different things. the way your eyes shut tight, brow creased, mouth opened and chest heaved, toji couldn't take his eyes of you.
you saw his reaction through squinted eyes and stopped, reverting to your normal self, scratching the back of your head, completely unbothered.
"so yes, toji... just like that..." you said, without the moans this time.
toji gulped.
"so, do you wanna record a demo? i can send it to my agent. if she likes it, she'll ask you to record a proper script."
toji sighed... what was he getting into? he didn't actually imagine himself doing it. would it be embarrassing? no, fuck it. he could really use the extra cash.
"no one can know," he said sternly.
"you can use a pseudonym. you can literally put an emoji as your name."
"whatever. as long as nobody can trace it back to me."
"i guarantee you they won't. let's send an anonymous demo, 'kay?"
"fine. but, i don't know how to do this shit. it's too... fucking dumb."
you chuckled. "it is. dumb and fun. but doesn't it make you feel... like a king, knowing that the world gets off to your voice?"
toji scoffed and smirked. oh, how he wished she knew that he had been getting off to her voice nearly every damn night, palming his dick, picturing you saying all those dirty things to him.
he followed you to your bedroom where you had set up your mic, your laptop, you desk, under a labyrinth of wires and cables. he was made to sit in the chair facing the mic. the fuck am i doing...
you tapped on your laptop, leaning forward on the desk. toji's hammering anxiety took a break when he realised how close you were. your tits were practically in his face. he'd only ever seen you in baggy clothing, so this was a pleasant surprise. they were big. but they'd easily fit in his hands. he was a little disgusted by the fact that he was severely attracted to you.
"okay... what would you like to say?"
"i don't know..."
"what are your go-to swear words?"
"uh... fuck?"
"and?"
"i don't swear because of my kid... so, i don't know... this is difficult, y/n..."
"what do you have to fear?"
she was right. what was he to lose? to fear? nothing. he knew how hot was. he knew ladies threw themselves at him. he knew his sex appeal was impeccable. so then why was this so difficult?
oh, he knew why. you. it was because of you. the way he'd listened to your moans all week, stealing glances at you whenever he saw you, and now that he was in your bedroom with you...
fuck that! this bitch just faked an orgasm in front of me without a problem. i can at least spit out a few sentences.
"how do you start?"
"well, i usually have a script and there's good enough build up."
"so, give me one of your scripts."
"really? you wanna say, 'touch my pussy'?"
"fuck no. ugh, this is frustrating," he groaned loudly, leaning back and running his hands through his hair.
"hey, wait, that's good!"
"huh?"
"say it again."
"this... is frustrating?"
"tojiiiii," you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm. "say it like you did before. with the groan and all."
"i can't just do it on command."
"do you want me to leave you here alone with a gravure magazine then?"
toji's narrowed his eyes at her. "you read those?"
"no, but, you get the point."
toji sighed. you thought of another way to get him riled up. if a sexy audio wasn't gonna happen, then an angry one it was... there were plenty of angsty stories in demand. you clicked on record without him knowing.
"stop acting like a virgin, toji," you said and he shot you a glare. you let your mouth run a marathon, "no, for real, you're a grown ass man with a nice, deep voice. you look like you'd be pissed off if someone so much as looks at you wrong. or worse, if someone tries to mess with your son-"
"watch your mouth," toji growled, grabbing your jaw with his fingers, pressing it tightly.
"or what?"
"or you regret ever letting me in this house. that kid fucking loves you. you keep him out of this. do not... ever use him... to use me," he snarled.
you pressed the spacebar to stop recording. toji pulled his hand back, putting two and two together.
"that... was something."
"i mean it."
"sorry... but damn, angry toji... is sexy..." you commented.
"yeah? you like that?" toji said with a smirk. you squealed, regretting not recording that.
"SAY THAT AGAIN." you began recording again.
toji let out a deep chuckle. "you want me to say that again, pretty girl?" oh, he was starting to get into it.
you nodded.
"beg for it..." toji whispered, slightly closer to the mic. he watched you hold back another squeal.
"use your words, baby."
you were almost jumping up and down at how good he sounded. you really wanted to use his voice. you figured your agent would ignore yours and focus on his.
you exhaled, "please, please say it again!"
"hmm..." toji's baritone voice reverberated in the mic. "that doesn't sound so convincing, princess..."
you banged the air above the desk, pursing your lips and grinned.
"please please please! i'll do anything!"
oh, toji was starting to see the fun in it. "anything, you say..."
"yes! whatever you say!" you too were blending well with him.
"get on your knees, then baby..." he said brusquely.
your jaw dropped, morphing into a wide smile as you silently cheered him. toji found your reactions entertaining. true, you'd been doing this longer than him, so you were probably used to hearing all that. you were genuinely enjoying him.
you gave him a thumbs up and he made his closing statement, making sure to murmur, "good girl..."
you stopped recording and grabbed toji by his shoulders, shaking him. "AAARRRRGGGH. you are a natural!!!!!"
toji smirked. that was oddly easy to do. mostly because you helped him into it.
"well, i'm not one to brag..."
"no, please brag."
"heh. do you think your agent will like it?"
"she will eat it. she will want to become it."
"how much do you make exactly?" he asked.
"i had to do a lot of small freebies until i got my big break. i made [good amount] per episode. i've done three stories, each with twelve chapters. im working on a fourth one... so it's incomplete."
that must have been the one toji had listened to the first time. he did click the first thing he saw. he'd been replaying the first three episodes over and over, coming undone to them. but now that you'd said there were more...
"that's actually very..."
"rich, right? i was surprised too."
"so, you're gonna send it to your agent now?"
"yep. she'll like it. under what name do you want it?"
toji thought about it. he couldn't have this traced back to him. not with megumi's life at risk. it had to be something entirely random. yet meaningful...
"how about... 707?"
you grinned. that was a smart pseudonym. "done."
"well... tell me how it goes. and once again... not a word about this in public. what happens in this room, stays in this room," he warned you.
"WAIT SAY THAT AGAIN!"
toji chuckled as he stood up to leave and rejoin his son. before he did, he inched closer to you and whispered in your ear, "beg for it, babygirl."
you groaned and flapped your hands, fanning yourself. "you're so good at this!"
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you'd sent that clip to your agent and got a response from her a few days later. to say the least, you were surprised by her request.
so, you stood at toji's door, phone in hand. he opened it.
"'sup?"
"it's my agent."
toji shut the door behind him, not wanting megumi to hear anything.
"what'd she say?"
you simply held out your phone and the text she sent you.
'WHO IS THAT?' 'GIRL LOCK THAT MAN IN THE BASEMENT' 'he's got the job if he wants it. i just got a killer script! the only condition is'
toji raised an eyebrow at the last message.
'you both have to do it together'
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Pleasant daydream.
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losthavenmine · 5 months
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Russell Crowe Filmography Series || Through the Years
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nipplesnipplesnipples · 2 months
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Joe Davidson (and Glen Powell) in Anyone but You
Created by miruh85 (used with permission)
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sidekick-hero · 9 months
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You know I'm a show off (I would let you get some)
(steddie | explicit | 6.4k | AO3)
And so begins the longest ten minutes of Eddie Munson's life.
He's standing there, the sun beating down on them, but he's sweating for a completely different reason as he watches Steve contort himself to reach every last inch of his precious BMW. His shorts are riding dangerously high, just barely revealing the curve of his round ass more than once. There are moles all over his skin, like constellations waiting to be explored by adventurous hands and lips. The hair on his legs looks soft, so light it's almost blonde, and Eddie wants to run his fingers over it, scratch the creamy white skin of his inner thighs and leave his mark on that perfect body.
Or: Steve washes his car just for Eddie to get it dirty again.
Eddie was going to die. Death by sexual frustration. Or spontaneous combustion. Maybe a heart-attack. No matter how, his neighbor would be the death of him.
He and his best friend Chrissy just moved into the duplex three weeks ago, but Eddie was already on the brink of insanity. Just last week he had to witness said neighbor — Steve, the most boring name for the most exciting creature he ever laid eyes on — water his garden in nothing but red swimming trunks, his skin glistening in the sun like that creepy vampire Chrissy was so obsessed with. Eddie had wanted to lick every drop of sweat from his body, soothe the blooming sunburn on his shoulders and nose with his spit, and ask him to water something else with his hose.
And to add insult to injury, the guy was not only gorgeous, but nice. Like, super nice. He's always polite, always handing out smiles like candy on Halloween. He never stares at Chrissy in that sleazy way that too many guys do. There are no loud parties. Hell, the guy even separates his garbage. Eddie's pretty sure he also rescues kittens from trees in his spare time.
When they had moved in, Steve had come over and offered his help, just like that. Being a little overwhelmed and a lot exhausted from moving both of their belongings in one day, they had gratefully accepted. Steve had carried box after box, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his polo shirt. Despite the heat and the sweat running down his face and neck, he smelled heavenly every time he walked by Eddie. He would brush up against him or press in close as they both tried to lift something from the moving truck, and Eddie had to close his eyes and will himself to calm down. He was sure he'd get a hard-on every time he smelled Steve's cologne from now on.
Today's special torture was Steve washing his car in front of his garage. Wearing nothing but a white tank top and the shortest jean shorts Eddie has ever seen in his life, which is saying something considering his best friend is an ex-cheerleader. What the fuck was this guy thinking? Does this count as assault?
The top and shorts were already soaked, clinging to Steve's body like a second skin and leaving little to the imagination. Not that Eddie's imagination didn't still run wild with what it was given. So wild, in fact, that Eddie doesn't even notice how he all but drops the groceries he was trying to carry to the house back into his van, and walks over to the godlike creature, who is acting out a scene that could have come straight out of one of Eddie's wet dreams.
He only realizes what he's doing when Steve looks up from where he's been scrubbing the hood of his car with a soapy sponge and asks him, "Uh... can I help you?"
"I noticed you're washing your car," Eddie says dumbly.
The corners of Steve's lips twitch like he's hiding his amusement. "Yup," he says, popping the p. "Want me to wash yours? I already have everything out.”
Eddie glances at Steve's crotch before he can stop himself and thinks, I wish you would.
"Yeah," he says dreamily, licking his lips. He can't remember what Steve asked, but the answer would always be yes, as long as he could stand here and stare at him.
"Great. I'm almost done here, then we can start on your van. Gimme ten."
And so begins the longest ten minutes of Eddie Munson's life.
He's standing there, the sun beating down on them, but he's sweating for a completely different reason as he watches Steve contort himself to reach every last inch of his precious BMW. His shorts are riding dangerously high, just barely revealing the curve of his round ass more than once. There are moles all over his skin, like constellations waiting to be explored by adventurous hands and lips. The hair on his legs looks soft, so light it's almost blonde, and Eddie wants to run his fingers over it, scratch the creamy white skin of his inner thighs and leave his mark on that perfect body.
The tank top is also see-through, revealing spectacular tits that Eddie is dying to get his hands on, and a tantalizing patch of dark chest hair that he needs to bury his face in.
Steve absentmindedly wipes the hair plastered to his forehead away with the hand that’s not holding the sponge. His muscles move under his wet skin, and Eddie thinks back to the easy way he picked up his amp from the moving truck and carried it up the stairs to Eddie's room. He could probably lift Eddie as well and the thought does nothing to relax the situation in his pants. They are getting uncomfortably tight and he prays to whoever is listening that it will go down fast.
"Okay, all done. Looking gorgeous again, sweetheart." Steve says, petting the hood of his car and Eddie chuckles.
Steve looks up at him as if expecting Eddie to mock him, so Eddie raises his hands in a reassuring gesture and says, "Hey, no judgment from me. I got my own sweetheart hanging on my bedroom wall, I get it."
"Oh, your guitar, right?"
"Yeah, it was my first electric guitar. I wrote all the songs for my band’s album on her. She holds a special place in my heart."
Steve smiles at him, his hazel eyes warm and open. "I know what you mean," he says as he watches his fingers dance over the gleaming metal one more time before looking back at Eddie, his gaze wandering along his frame, his eyes subtly widening at the sight of the probably still very obvious bulge in Eddie's pants.
Eddie can feel the heat creeping up his body, embarrassed at being caught, but Steve only swallows once, Adam's apple bobbing, before clearing his throat and throwing his thumb over his shoulder. "Just need to put it in and we're good to go."
"Put it...in?" Eddie chokes out, trying to subtly adjust his pants at the mental image.
Steve smirks at his reaction, and Eddie starts to think that his neighbor isn't such a goodie-two-shoes as he originally thought.
"The car? It needs to go into the garage so we can put your van in my driveway to clean it."
"Oh yeah, absolutely. By all means, put it in." Eddie cringes at his own words. Good God, what is wrong with him?
Steve nods, his appraising eyes still lingering on Eddie for a moment before he gets into the car. He waits for the garage door to slide open before he drives the BMW into the spacious room. Eddie is watching, his brain is still not back online after the show he just witnessed, so he doesn't question it when Steve gets out of the car and calls him over to come in; he has something to show him. He just steps into the garage and walks over to where Steve is standing in front of the hood.
Suddenly, the garage door slides back down, shutting out the outside world and leaving them alone with Steve's car as the only witness to Steve pulling Eddie into a heated kiss.
At first Eddie is too shocked by the firm lips pressing against his to react. Steve's hands are fisted in his shirt and his mouth moves insistently against Eddie's, coaxing him to join their dance, and Eddie wonders if he's dreaming again. Because the last time Steve had kissed him like this, hungry, wanton, perfect, Eddie had woken up hard and lonely, with thoughts of his unattainably gorgeous neighbor.
A sharp nip to his lower lip convinces him that this is real, because it stings, in the best way, and Eddie's breath catches. His eyes open — when did he even close them? — to find Steve looking back at him, the lovely hazel of his eyes almost entirely consumed by the black of his dilated pupils. He licks Eddie's lower lips apologetically, soothing the sting his teeth have caused, before leaning back and watching him intently.
Eddie blinks at him, still processing but already missing Steve's lips on his. "Wha- I mean, why- uh, y'know —" He stumbles over the half-formed words in his head, searching for the right ones, preferably in the right order, but he's never been an overachiever, so he settles for the next best thing. "You kissed me."
Steve snorts. "What if I did?" he asks, looking up at Eddie from under his lashes, and he shouldn't be able to pull this off, they're the same height, but somehow he does. Eddie briefly wonders if his neighbor was designed by the government to eliminate their enemies by rendering them useless with lust. If so, he thinks it definitely works.
"Why? I mean..." Eddie trails off, thinks for a moment before he shrugs, "Yeah, no, I wanna know why."
"Well," Steve begins, suddenly sounding shy, even though the words that follow are anything but. "I noticed you couldn't keep your eyes off me today. In fact, I think you haven't been able to keep your eyes off me for a while now, huh?" His eyelashes flutter and it should look ridiculous, Steve is not one of Chrissy's girlfriends who often come over and flirt with Eddie like they can't believe he's gay and really not interested, batting their long eyelashes and curling their manicured petite hands around his arm.
No, Steve's face is all angles, strong jaw, broad face, prominent nose. His hands aren't petite, they're big and strong. So when he acts all shy, it should look silly, but when he puts his hand on Eddie's chest and bites his lips, Eddie's heart starts racing underneath. "But you never made a move, you just... kept looking. Which is fine, I mean, I like to be looked at, but a guy does have his limits, y'know. Had to take matters into my own hands, just to see if I was imagining things."
It took Eddie three tries to graduate high school, but he’s not dumb. He could basically hear the puzzle pieces fall into place in his head, but his voice is still full of disbelief when he asks, “You- you put on a show? For me?”
Steve snorts again. "Yeah, dude. I could just go to a car wash and get this beauty cleaned up in no time. It's just so much more fun to watch you get hard for me." His hand on Eddie's chest slides down, stopping just short of where Eddie wants it so badly, and he feels the remaining blood leave his brain at a rapid pace. "So what do you say?"
Eddie gulps, his mouth running before his brain can give any input, "You're not afraid of staining your sweetheart?"
Steve just shrugs and flashes Eddie a wolfish grin. "Well, I guess I could just wash it again then. Maybe lick it off. You wouldn't mind watching that, would you?"
And that's it, the thing that makes Eddie snap. He throws an arm around Steve's waist, pulls him close to his chest and grabs his ass with the other to lift him off the ground to lay him down on the hood of his car. "Stay," he almost growls, the hunger in his veins turning to greed as he leans back to take in the sight of Steve all laid out for him.
His hair is fanned out around his head like a halo, the vast expanse of sun-kissed skin ready to be marked and devoured. Eddie can see how turned on Steve already is; the surprise manhandling only adding fuel to the fire between them. His stiff nipples are visible through the now soaked white top, the red flush of arousal staining his chest and throat, and his chest is heaving with his ragged breathing. Eddie sees his hard dick straining against the wet material of his denim shorts and he thinks it must hurt to have the sensitive head rubbing against the stiff material with the way Steve’s hips keep squirming, mindlessly grinding his ass against the heated metal. Eddie wants to ruin him.
Steve seems to be on the same page because he spreads his legs wider and wraps them around Eddie's waist to pull him closer, ignoring Eddie's earlier order. Eddie comes tumbling forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of Steve's head and Steve pulls him down in another kiss, this one even more heated than the first. Steve licks into Eddie's mouth like he owns it and Eddie's head is already spinning from how fast they're going. It feels like the last three weeks have been one long foreplay and they can't wait a second longer. So when Steve starts sucking Eddie's tongue into his mouth, Eddie's arms give way and he crashes down on Steve, never stopping their kissing or the constant grinding of their hips against each other.
Not wasting another second, Steve takes advantage of their new position to get his hands under Eddie's shirt, nails scratching along his back. They're practically dry humping on the shiny hood of a BMW. Eddie's younger, non-conformist, capitalism-hating self would roll his eyes before applauding him for getting down and dirty with the hottest guy he's ever laid eyes on. He begins to put more force into the roll of his hips, pressing Steve harder against the metal beneath him, and Steve wrenches their mouths apart with a loud, drawn out moan.
He starts tugging at Eddie's shirt, grumbling, "Off. Get it off," against Eddie's mouth, and Eddie complies, leaning back just enough to pull his shirt over his head before coming back down to capture Steve's mouth in another kiss. The wet material of Steve's top is nice against Eddie’s heated skin, but he wants to feel Steve, only Steve, so he slips his hand beneath him and pulls him into a sitting position.
His hands make their way to Steve's waist to slip under his top, his fingertips touching Steve's stomach and Eddie feels the muscles flutter against them. He presses his hands down harder and begins to slide them up Steve's body, his eyes drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. There are more moles underneath and Eddie thinks Steve should be shirtless all the time so he can trace them with his fingers or his tongue whenever he wants. Steve giggles when Eddie's hands reach his rips and it's an unexpectedly delightful sound. Ticklish, Eddie notes on his mental list of things he knows about his neighbor. Cute is already there, so he doesn't have to add that one.
"Lift your arms for me, sweetheart," Eddie rasps, his voice already affected by the little they've done so far. Steve obeys easily, pleased to get what he wants, and Eddie has to kiss him. Just a quick press of lips, there and gone.
The gasp that comes from Steve's mouth is music to Eddie's ears as he slides his hands further up, his thumbs grazing Steve's nipples along the way. Steve is so responsive, so obvious and giving with his desire, and if that isn't the hottest thing ever, Eddie doesn't know what is.
He stops the upward slide of his hands at Steve's wrist and twists the material of his shirt around them, effectively tying them together, before placing his hand on the thick patch of dark hair on Steve's chest and pushing him back down onto the hood. Steve looks at Eddie with a dazed look in his eyes, his arms resting on the windshield above his head.
"What —" is all he manages to say, his former cockiness gone for the moment.
Eddie takes his time to look at the beautiful man laid out in front of him. Steve hasn't moved his hands, silent surrender in every line of his body. He's perfect. Steve is perfect.
"You're perfect," Eddie purrs. "Putting on such a hot show, just for me. So let me enjoy what you're offering, yeah?"
With that, Eddie leans down again and bites Steve's jaw, just below his ear. It's such an unexpected move that Steve gasps loudly, his hips shooting up as if Eddie had electrocuted him. He licks the bite mark soothingly before scraping his teeth down the column of Steve's throat to his collarbone, sucking the thin skin just above the bone into his mouth and worrying it between his teeth. As much as Steve tries to hold still and let Eddie explore his body, the need for friction seems to become too much, because Eddie feels the hard, thick line of his cock rubbing against his own crotch in incremental thrusts.
"Eddie, please, please, please," Steve begs, and Eddie thinks he doesn't even know what for. It's intoxicating, almost addictive, and he hopes this won't be the last time he gets high on Steve.
"So impatient," Eddie chides him, biting the firm flesh of his pec in warning.
Steve squirms under him but still manages to sound defiant as he says, "Oh fuck you, been waiting weeks to get your hands on me, I deserve a reward for my —" his words are cut short by a low fuck as Eddie sucks his nipple into his mouth and lets his tongue play with it.
"You deserve a reward for your fuck? I dunno, Stevie. We'll have to see, won't we?" Eddie smirks up at Steve, his chin digging into the nipple he just abused with his mouth.
"How about you get a move on so I can show you?"
Eddie resumes working his mouth down Steve's torso, biting and licking his chest, tracing the constellation of moles and freckles with his tongue, memorizing Steve's body by taste and smell alone. When he pulls his lower body away from Steve's to get a better angle, Steve whines at the loss and Eddie takes pity on him, offering his chest for Steve's dick to rub against instead. The hot flesh feels big, even through the jeans, a thick length that Eddie can't wait to get his mouth on.
"You can't wait to get my mouth on you, huh, big boy?"
Not waiting for an answer, Eddie slides further down and dips his tongue into Steve's navel, relishing the sounds that fall from Steve's mouth. It's like Steve can't keep them in, his body forced to be still, so he has to use his voice to let some of the overflowing feelings out of his body. Eddie decides to test how much longer Steve can keep his hands to himself.
His tongue leaves Steve's belly button and follows the tantalizing trail of dark hair down to the waistband of his shorts. He sucks the tender flesh into his mouth as well, leaving another mark. Looking up at Steve's torso, Eddie thinks he may have gone a bit overboard, because his skin is covered in bruises and bite marks, and something tells him that Steve is going to bitch about it later. For now, they both seem to be enjoying Eddie's more possessive side.
While his mouth is still busy sucking on Steve's skin, his hands begin to work on undoing his pants. The button is a bitch, the wetness makes it hard to move the material enough to pop the button free, but once that's done, he gets to hear the satisfying sound of the zipper going down. Next, his hands hook into the waist and slide the shorts off Steve's long, muscular legs, the material clinging to him and Eddie can't even blame it. They are gorgeous legs and Eddie would never want to be parted from them either, wants to have them around him all the time.
When he's finally pulled them all the way off, Eddie has to pause for a moment to take in the sight before him. He's almost dizzy with want, but frozen in place because there are so many things he wants to do to Steve right now, it's overwhelming. Steve lies there, miles and miles of golden skin, Eddie's marks like new stars born into existing constellations, adding to the sheer beauty of him.
Steve's hands are still above his head, the muscles in his arms bunching with his restraint to keep them there, his broad swimmer's back pushing his torso up in an arch that even Michelangelo could not have done justice. It tapers into a sturdy waist, his hipbones framing his dark crotch hair like a canvas. The thick thighs underneath quiver at the unnatural angle and Eddie wants to wrap them back around him. And he will, any second now. As soon as he is done burning all of this into his memory.
"Take a picture, it would last longer," Steve snarks, and Eddie is honestly impressed by the attitude. Apparently Steve Harrington is a little bitch, even with his cock dripping pre-cum and his hips writhing.
He does have a point though — it would. So Eddie pulls out his phone and snaps a picture.
"That better go in a private folder," Steve bitches, an embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks, but Eddie can tell he's turned on, too, by the way more pre-cum drips down on his stomach. Interesting.
"Top of the spank bank, baby," Eddie promises as he drops to his knees in front of Steve.
He takes a second to slide his phone away to keep it safe before focusing all his attention on the cock right in front of him, mouth already flooded with saliva. Placing both of his hands on Steve's hips to hold him in place, he mouths up the hard length, starting at the base, all the way up to the leaking head. With his hands busy he has to use his tongue to lift Steve’s dick from where it's resting against his taut stomach to get it all the way into his mouth.
Eddie doesn't waste another second, sliding down and taking Steve into his throat.
Steve shoots up, his upper body lifting off the metal into a sitting position in one swift motion, his hands sliding out of their confines to bury themselves in Eddie’s hair.
Fuck, if that wasn't the hottest thing Eddie had ever seen. Hot enough that he decides he's done playing for now.
So instead of pulling off and putting Steve back in his place, he just increases his efforts, bobbing his head and making sure to swallow and moan around Steve whenever he hits his fluttering throat. It's uncomfortable with how big Steve is, almost painful, and Eddie loves every second of it. It makes him feel alive, powerful with how he can take Steve apart with just his mouth. There's something so rewarding about choking on a dick, pleasure that hits in a different way.
It's with regret that he pulls off after a few more minutes of indulging himself with the pleasure of Steve's weight on his tongue and the thickness filling his throat. But he has plans; wants to have Steve as addicted as Eddie already is. He needs him to come back for more, because now that he has had a taste, Eddie is not sure he can go back to being just neighbors waving hello to each other.
He kisses the spit-slick flesh down to Steve's balls, full with his need to come, sucks one into his mouth and rolls it around before doing the same to the other.
"You're a fucking - ah - fucking tease, anyone ever tell you that?"
Eddie drops the heavy sack from his mouth and bites into the tender flesh of Steve's inner thigh, earning himself a yelp and a hard yank of his hair from Steve's hands.
"They're usually not coherent enough for that. Looks like I'll have to work harder on you." To make his point, he pushes Steve back into a lying position. "Now hold still and let me ruin you, okay?"
"Fuck. You're going to be the death of me."
Right back at you, Eddie thinks. "But what a way to go."
With that, he slides his hands down the inside of Steve's thighs to his knees, spreading them wider and using the leverage to pull Steve closer to the edge of the hood. That way Eddie's face is exactly where he wants it — level with Steve's rim. He'd planned to give it the same devouring attention as his dick, using his tongue and lips until Steve was a quivering mess above him. Then he would have added his fingers, stretching him on them, fingering him until he came without anything else.
It's a good plan. A great plan even. What isn't part of the plan, though, is the sight of something already spearing Steve open.
"Jesus Christ," Eddie breathes out as he sees the base of a black plug in Steve's ass, his eyes wide in disbelief. If being here in Steve's garage, ready to fuck each other senseless, feels like a fever dream, then this is like being dropped into a porn version of the Twilight Zone.
His eyes are glued to Steve's rim clutching a fucking buttplug, but he doesn't need to see it to hear the smirk in Steve's smug voice. "Cat got your tongue?"
That snaps Eddie out of his stupor and he looks up at Steve, who's leaning on his forearms, actually smirking down at him. "No, but there's a big ass plug where my tongue should be."
The picture Eddie just painted seems to hit Steve exactly where Eddie wanted it to, as he sees him squirm, nudging his ass closer to Eddie's face, wonderfully unashamed in his need. "So do something about it."
Eddie slowly moves his hand up Steve's leg again, letting it follow the same path as before, starting at the knee and working up the inside thigh to the crease of his groin until his thumb can trace the outer edge of the plug. The skin still has traces of lube on it and Eddie smears it around the rim, wedging the tip of his thumb between the silicone and muscle, causing Steve to hiss under his breath.
Eddie watches his finger circle the plug in amazement, consumed by the overwhelmingly hot idea of Steve prepping himself, maybe even bending over the car in his garage, one hand on the hood while the other works in the plug, his dick hanging heavy and neglected between his legs. Let him be smug, Eddie thinks, he deserves it,. Because Steve Harrington just keeps on blowing his goddamn mind.
Still, he has to poke the bear a little, because the cocky, confident side of Steve is really, really working for him.
"Were you really this confident that washing your car would get me in here?"
"If it didn't work, it still made washing it a hell of a lot more exciting," Steve counters, and doesn't that add fuel to the fire that's burning in his veins.
Eddie has no trouble imagining the way the plug would move inside Steve; its heavy weight pulling at his rim, so Steve would have to clench his hole to hold it in place. Steve’s mind would be constantly aware of it, all his senses focused on the thickness inside of him, every little movement igniting sparks of arousal. Eddie can imagine Steve moving just enough to push it against his prostate, his muscles working to suck it in deeper, tightening around it so the pressure against his inner walls would be even more intense.
Eddie is pulled out of the fantasy he's lost in when Steve tells him, "Lube and condoms are on the bench over there," nodding toward the workbench where, among tools and equipment, Eddie sees a bottle of lube and some shiny packages of condoms. He has no idea how he missed them earlier and can only blame the siren call of Steve's body.
Eddie presses a final kiss to Steve's thigh, just above where he bit earlier, and wastes no time getting up and grabbing the things he needs. Before making his way back to where Steve is waiting impatiently with hooded eyes, Eddie makes quick work of taking off his own pants and boxers. Steve's eyes turn even darker at the sight of Eddie's hard dick and Eddie can't help but give it a few tugs, putting on his own show just for Steve.
"If you don't get your ass over here in the next five seconds, I'm doing this without you," Steve almost growls, his hand already moving between his legs.
Eddie is over there in three long strides, slapping Steve's hand away and wrapping his own around Steve's dick. "Uh uh, sweetheart. That's mine today."
He puts the lube and a condom on the hood of the car next to Steve with his other hand and pulls Steve in for another open-mouthed kiss. But as Steve grows impatient, his legs wrap around Eddie's waist again, tight enough to pull him in and urge him to get on with it.
But instead of giving Steve what he wants, Eddie decides to stick to his original plan, adding the plug to torture Steve even more. He grabs Steve's knees to entangle himself from their demanding pull, and drops to his knees again. Who says he can't put his mouth on Steve with the plug still inside him?
So he does just that, bringing his mouth to Steve's rim and licking a wide strip across it before letting his tongue trace the edge of the plug. As he nudges the tip of his tongue under the edge and inside, Steve gasps as he presses his ass more firmly against Eddie's face. It's hard to smirk when your face is buried in someone's ass, but Eddie manages it anyway. Two can play this game.
Eddie brings his fingers into the mix next. He grips the plug and tugs on it, just a little, just enough to watch Steve's rim cling to it as it slowly slides an inch or two out of his ass. "Look at you, so desperate to be full, your ass gripping that plug so tight. I can't wait until it's my dick you're gripping."
Steve squirms at his words, his hips now moving relentlessly, seeking the pleasure Eddie has so far denied him.
"More. Fuck, Eddie. I need more. Come on."
And Eddie gives him more, sort of, pushing the plug back in before tugging again, this time pulling it out even further, twisting it back and forth as it slides out of Steve, glistening with lube. As he pushes it back in, his finger joins, worming its way in as well. It’s a snug fit, the pressure against his finger intense. He slides the plug and his finger in and out a few more times before finally pulling it free, going deliberately slow and reveling in the whine that leaves Steve's lips as he does so.
The plug is dropped on top of Steve's discarded shorts before he dives right back in, fastening his mouth to Steve's empty, twitching hole and pushing his tongue deep inside. Steve yelps in obvious surprise, but it soon turns into a loud, shameless moan.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," he curses, his hips undulating against Eddie's face, "you don't - hnng, yes there, fuck - have t- that's what the plug was for," Steve complains, but there is no heat in it. Or believability. Not with the way he tries to sit up and shove Eddie away, only to clench his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling his face even tighter against his grinding hips as he leans back down. Steve is greedy in his lust and Eddie has never been more turned on in his life.
Eddie keeps eating Steve out like he’s his favorite meal. The thighs clamped tightly around his head tremble and Steve sounds like he's almost crying, his voice reedy as he begs Eddie to just fuck him already. And as much as he loves reducing Steve to this wanton, needy mess, Eddie's dick is so hard it's bordering on painful.
Still, before he plunges into the tight heat that’s waiting for him, Eddie wants to make sure the plug has done its proper job first, so he coats his fingers with lube and rubs them together to warm it up. He sinks two fingers in at once, watching Steve's face intently as they slide in with ease to the last knuckle. There's no sign of discomfort, just a fucked out expression looking back at him. The third he adds is met with a little more resistance, a tiny wrinkle between Steve's eyebrows telling him it stings, but Eddie still thinks it will be fine if he goes slow. At least as slow as their desire-drunk bodies will allow.
As if reading his mind, Steve looks him in the eye and says, "I'm not made of glass, Eddie." It's not bitchy like Eddie expected, but almost soft, reassuring.
He curls his fingers inside Steve one last time, drinking in the whimper Steve can't seem to hold back, before pressing a kiss to the tip of Steve's dick. "Okay, okay, I got you."
Eddie reaches for the condom, tearing the wrapper open with his teeth (Steve's not the only one who likes to put on a show, okay) and puts it on his dick before generously coating it with more lube. It's cold on his overheated flesh, sending a shiver down his spine, but he figures it'll soon warm up once he's inside Steve.
Placing one hand next to Steve's head, he uses the other to line himself up. As he nudges against Steve's entrance, Eddie leans forward to catch Steve's lips in another kiss, sliding his tongue into Steve's mouth at the same time his head breaches Steve's rim. He swallows the gasp from Steve's mouth and pushes forward, sinking deeper and deeper into the tight clutch of Steve's ass.
They both have to catch their breath when Eddie finally bottoms out, Eddie's forehead resting against Steve's, the moment unexpectedly tender.
"Good?"
"Perfect," Steve murmurs, his eyes closing in pleasure as Eddie slowly draws back to thrust again. He's quieter now that Eddie's finally fucking him, little gasps and breathless ah ah ahs escaping him as Eddie's hips pick up speed. Eddie's so close, but he wants Steve to come first, had planned to make that happen without a hand on Steve's dick, only it looks like that won't happen before Eddie loses it himself. But as he reaches down between them to take Steve in his hand, Steve's own hand catches his, lacing their fingers together and placing their hands next to his head.
"So close, don't - don't need it, just keep going, keep going."
Without both hands to hold himself up, Eddie sinks down onto Steve, and Steve squeezes his hand as Eddie fucks into him. He's not prepared for the way this simple, sweet gesture shoots through him, his orgasm taking him completely by surprise.
"Fuck, no- oh, fuck," he moans, his pleasure too intense for words as he spills into the condom, his hips still working as aftershocks run through him.
Eddie buries his face in Steve's neck, his body still twitching but his mind starting to race. He fucked up. He had a plan and he blew it, coming too soon like a teenager just because his crush was holding his hand. Steve went out of his way to get them here, prepped himself, plugged himself, washed his car in the most indecent outfit he could find - washed his car.
Eddie remembers Steve talking about licking his cum off his car and he's struck with an idea.
He gingerly pulls out, all the while kissing Steve to distract him from the sting (and to apologize for seemingly leaving him hanging). As soon as his softening dick slips free, he stands up again, pulling Steve upright with their hands still clasped and an arm around his waist. Steve stumbles against him, catching himself with a hand on Eddie's chest. "What —"
"Oh, we're not done, sweetheart," Eddie purrs, turning Steve over so that Steve's back is to him.
He thrusts three fingers back inside Steve without warning, his other arm still wrapped around Steve's waist to keep him pressed against Eddie. His hand reaches down to grab Steve in a firm grip, spreading the copious amount of pre-cum that has pooled on the head with his thumb before he begins to slowly pump Steve. It's probably too dry, but the wounded sounds Steve makes are only one third pain and two parts pleasure, so he doesn’t stop.
Eddie's fingers fuck Steve relentlessly from behind, pumping in and out, prodding along his walls until he finds that one spot that makes Steve whimper and hump Eddie's hand. Once he’s found it, Eddie keeps his fingers there, massaging the spot until Steve comes with a hoarse scream all over his precious car.
Eddie keeps going until the sounds Steve keeps making become pitiful, the overstimulation obviously turning painful. Only then does he pull his fingers out of Steve and lets go of his dick.
Steve turns around in his arms, his weight sagging against Eddie, who happily holds him against his chest and kisses him.
They're both sticky with cum and lube and sweat but they couldn't care less about it right now. It's a sweet kiss, the softness a stark contrast to what they just did, and Eddie can't get enough. Every time one of them starts to pull away, the other follows for another kiss. It is only when Eddie feels that they are both beginning to shiver that he stops Steve from following him again with a hand that cups his cheek.
"We should get cleaned up."
"Hmmmm," Steve agrees, "we should." But he doesn't make a move to do so, just presses himself closer to Eddie. It's adorable, and Eddie can't help but kiss him on the nose for it.
"Come on, Steve. Let's go inside and clean up. Put on some dry clothes and —"
"Fuck again."
"Jesus Christ."
"Nah, you can call me Steve." Steve winks at him and Eddie wants to reaffirm his earlier thought. His neighbor is going to be the death of him. "And don't worry, we can work on your stamina next time," Steve adds, a mischievous twinkle in his hazel eyes.
Eddie can't wait.
________________________________________________________
A heartfelt shout-out and thank you to my two favorite enablers, @legitcookie and @yournowheregirl for their endless support and cheerleading. This story wouldn't be what it is without you. You're the best 💜
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tylerposey · 2 months
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There it is.
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chloebrennans · 4 months
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The more I thought about it,
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neighboursdaily · 1 month
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NEIGHBOURS (1985 - Present )
Daaron + Episode 8979
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el-mago-de-guapos · 1 month
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Richie Morris
Neighbours - 6 August 2020
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leotanaka · 4 months
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@pscentral event 21: growth
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margotgifs · 2 years
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MARGOT ROBBIE during the last episode of Neighbours (1985-2022)
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