𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth

summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.

a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.

It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn’t belong in such a world as nice as this one.

But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.

When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.

That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.

Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty.

The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door.

Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does.

“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”

The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”

“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”

“Disgusting.”

He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”

And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard.

Fuck.

A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.”

And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”

Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too.

And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive.

Fuck me, he thinks.

The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks.

“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.”

Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows.

He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats.

Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.

In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”

His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”

You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”

“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”

And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved?

He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites.

Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.

“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”

“Madonna?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”

Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.

But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”

“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”

His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.

Eddie sees you again.

And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all.

Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches.

Summer has never felt so long.

Again.

Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares?

Again, anyways.

You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.

And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.

He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful.

You’re completely devastating.

You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”

Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”

“Why do I even do that?”

“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”

“You said…”

“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”

You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”

“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”

He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to.

“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”

“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”

And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes.

You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.

So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration.

“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”

Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him.

Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”

You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?”

“Only because it made me think of you.”

For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”

His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter.

“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”

“No girlfriend.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”

“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”

“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”

“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.

Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest.

Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.

“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation.

“Nope.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”

Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it.

Please.

A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.

And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin.

He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.

And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”

You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.”

“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”

“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”

Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”

Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”

“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.

This is what he’s wanted. This is it.

And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven.

Just like heaven.

“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”

He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”

“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”

“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”

“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”

Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”

Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”

“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”

“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”

Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”

“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”

He’s earned it.

“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.

Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”

Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”

“Christ, please.”

And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks.

He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’ before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.

Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.

He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.

“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”

Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.

You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex.

Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.

“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers.

“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”

“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”

Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him.

You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin.

For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.

“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”

You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath.

Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.

He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”

“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”

“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.

He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.

You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”

“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”

“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”

“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”

And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.

“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.”

You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls.

Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”

You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”

“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”

“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”

“Please, s’too hard.”

“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”

“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”

“No.”

You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you.

You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.

“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”

You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more.

“You’re s-so big.”

Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”

“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”

“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”

“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”

Fucking hell.

You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.

How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know.

He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!

He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”

“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”

“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”

“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”

“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”

“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”

“Suits you better.”

You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away.

“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”

“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”

I adore you.

You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.

You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive.

He’s milked. Spent.

Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.

It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.

My good boy, you think.

“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick.

“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”

“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”

Oh. It’s a joke.

And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive.”

“Barely.”

“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”

“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”

“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”

Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces.

“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”

A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.

You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with.

He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs.

Fucker.

“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”

You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”

“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”

You stare at him like he’s crazy.

“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”

He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.

Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning.

Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door.

And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night.

So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood.

God forbid they have coyotes, right?

But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.

Even though, the album is growing on him.

He’ll never admit that, though.

Tags

smut eddie munson ST

ASK Donnie & Raph 3some

@fyreball66 Okay, first off....THANK YOU for the love. Next, THANK YOU for the patience! I hope the wait was worth it. This one is a little...uh...well...it sorta took on a life of its own and got away from me.

Basically, this one is rather long (as Donnie might say): "I have a hard time keeping it short".

***Fully advising all living persons to read at their own risk! All minors just run away screaming.***

To give you a tidbit of insight, I HC that Raph and Don were close as kids, pretty much paling around when it came to porn and developing their own 'language' so the two of them could discuss things without anyone else understanding the naughty shit they were talking about. They couldn't let Leo know, because he might tell. They could let Mikey know...cause Mikey was too lil and had a BIG MOUTH. See...I figure Raph was a big porn-horn-dog and well, Donnie being the internet genius he was a kid could easily get access to it, and so a great brotherly bond was born. I used this HC of mine to write your story to...I hope you find it enjoyable.

You enter the lair carrying your old, has-seen-better-days, computer and make a beeline for Donnie’s lab. The dreaded blue screen of death showed up this morning and you desperately needed it fixed ASAP!

You find Donnie with his eyes stuck to the microscope, mumbling to himself. As you draw close, he doesn’t even look up, but greets you all the same, “Hi, Y/N, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?”.

With his face stuck to the ocular lenses, he misses the adoring gaze you bestow on him right before you huff a little giggle to yourself, shake your head, and think for the millionth time how easy he is to crush on, “My computer, you can thank it for dying on me”, you sigh regrettably.

Hearing the lamenting in your voice, Donnie’s gaze lifts to your pouting face as you stand cradling your beloved machine close to your chest. Your eyes pull out their best puppy-dog-sympathy act and silently plead with him to have mercy on your situation.

For a moment, time stands still as Donnie’s mind tries to record your exact look to memory, ‘How can she be so darn cute? However, no pouting, can’t allow a pout to grace your beautiful face’, he thinks as he swallows a sizeable lump growing in his throat.

With one of his cute chuckles, Don takes the failed unit from you with a smile, “Don’t worry, I’ll fix it in no time”, he murmurs and walks over to his own computer station and begins plugging it up to various cables. You watch as his talented hands easily flip and rotate the unit, examining it from all angles, and starting to work his undeniable Donnie magic.

*SIGH*…’Why can’t I be a computer?’, you think to yourself as your eyes follow his long fingers sliding and gliding smoothly over the surface of the device, knowing exactly where and how to touch it to get it to respond.

Ugh! You would gladly turn into a heaping pile of electronic parts just to have him work his magic on you. Admittedly, this isn’t the first time you have had this musing, believing if you were a computer that the tall terrapin would find some interest in you.

Not that Donatello ever ignored you! God, no. He is one of your best friends! It’s just that spending so much time, close to him, has your little body craving more than just his hugs, chuckles, and companionship.

You are starting to really consider inter-species dating, uh…if that is even something that could happen between the two of you? How would you even go about asking that? Donnie has never brought up any indications of possible love interests for any of the guys, so, it is always a huge question mark hanging in your head if the parts even match up.

Thinking about the guys and their bodies has your body feeling rather heated. Hell, all of the guys are desirable on some level, but you definitely had two top favorites…Donnie and Raph. First, there’s Donnie. And what is not to like there? Donatello has the mind, the heart, the humor, the body that just seems to go on forever, *sigh* he has it all.

Then there’s Raph…, well, the damn cocky S.O.B. is hot. Personality wise he is great… as a friend. However, you truly believe, you’d end up killing him if you ever dated him. Yep, it is just safer for him, and those rolling muscles of his, to remain eye candy. Hmmm, thinking of eye candy has your eyes roaming over the current terrapin in your view.

Your eyes drink in his long, lean frame as it is bent over his computer desk.

The subtlety of the ripples flowing through the deltoid muscles of his shoulders, those V-shaped triangles finely honed from years of daily katas and flexing with each arm movement. The equally delectable biceps and triceps firm and bulging, as his fingers danced across his keyboard tether booting your laptop from his computer so that he can run diagnostics.

You lick your lower lip and draw it in between your teeth as your eyes continue their exploration further down. You feel your own groin muscles clench as you focus on the bevels etched into his side by the interlocking saw-toothed pattern of his serratus muscles and his external obliques. A slight shiver runs through you as you imagine what it would feel like to run your tongue over those teasing peaks. As your eyes slide ever lower to that sinfully delicious dip of his waistline, pants always hanging just a little too south of dangerous without his suspenders on, you feel the betrayal-creep of your inner lubrication making its way out to your underwear.

“Careful, I can smell ya”, is whispered directly into your ear by unmistakable rough, cocky voice of Raphael.

FUCKING NINJAS! Your mind screams as your body jumps from the scare! You never know where they are at any given moment. Sneaky bastards, the lot of them, but Raph is the worst! He seems to take immense joy at catching you off guard EVERY SINGLE CHANCE HE GETS!

“RAPH!”, you yelp out, as your hand swings reflexively to smack at him. His chuckle is deep and hardy as he easily slides out of your strike zone. Swaying with confidence as he backs away from your frazzled state, moving deeper into Don’s Lab, obviously meaning to stay.

Donnie hears your yelp and glances up to catch the tail-end of the interaction, lifting a brow ridge at the two of you and giving Raph a look, the meaning of which is completely lost on you but seems to be full of meaning for Raphael.

Raph knows about his brother’s silent crush but also knows his too-socially-cordial brother isn’t going to do anything unless pushed and Raph considers himself just the turtle for that! Raphael gestures with his hands wide and lifts his shoulders, “Slip’n’Slide and ready ta ride”, is all he says aloud.

Your own brow quirks up in confusion, but you watch as Donnie apparently understands Raph’s odd dialogue. Donatello glances between you, Raph and the lines of code running on the computer, replying “You can’t be serious”.

“Dude, ya can’t tell me ya haven’t noticed. And, by da way, target eggplant set off da sprinklers”, Raph replies, leaning heavily on his knuckles which are planted on the workbench in the middle of the room. You watch as both sets of green-amber eyes flick between you and the owner of the other set.

Suddenly, Donnie gets very interested in the computer screen, refusing to look back at Raph as he mumbles, “Probably a false alarm. Not unheard of you know. I highly doubt rough terrain is desired.”.

Raph huffs a snort, “BULLSHIT. I’ll show ya. Chili pepper about ta get hot. If I’m right, ya down fa soup? ‘Cuz I don’t wanna start something if I can’t get a participation badge. Full gaming permissions deferred - obviously, yet optionable, eggplant and honey pot being da main ingredients.”. Again, two sets of amber eyes flick over to you and then back to each other.

You are thoroughly confused. They seem to be having a full, meaningful conversation and you aren’t understanding a word of it! Well…you understand the words themselves, but their meanings are obviously not what they are supposed to be. It’s like they are speaking another language only they aren’t.

You watch as the cutest smirk passing over Donnie’s face, as he throws a glance over his shoulder to Raph, “Parameters accepted. I could use a good laugh watching chili pepper crash and burn”, he snorts out a half-hearted laugh.

“Ha! Get ready ta eat, lil bro, ‘cuz I’m serving it up”, Raph boasts front behind the bench, making a point to lift his large arms wide but flexed.

Donnie slips into his computer chair and typing away at his diagnostic program, smirk still firmly planted on his face, but you sense a change in the atmosphere. Raphael looks over at you and makes a show of rolling his shoulders before he begins to saunter your way.

‘Great, what is he up to now?’, you think to yourself as you watch his smug face approach you. He invades your personal space, like he likes to do so often - just to rattle you, his musky scent envelopes you like a cocoon, pressing you down in place, holding you captive, then he lets his eyes dip and trail down your body. As he brings his emerald orbs back up to stare into your eyes, his thick muscular arm shoots out around you, startling you.

“Easy there, princess, just locking the door”, Raph coos down at you, only half hiding the gleeful smile splitting his face from causing you to ‘jump’ from his actions.

He moves behind you, placing himself between the door and you, making you feel a little oppressed and cornered. You shift uncomfortably while he stands so dominant in your space, then he starts advancing, “Ya see, I have dis theory…”, he monologues to you, while rubbing his sizable palms together, “…dat there’s somethin’ that yer keepin’ secret.”.

With his larger-than-life frame steadily invading your space, you unconsciously move to compensate, giving up ground and moving further into the lab…backing closer to Donnie. For the life of you, you can’t figure out what the big brute is going on about, “What are you talking about, Raph?”.

“Hmmm…”, the deep bass of his voice reverberating out of his chest, all the while sounding like a predatory rumble, causing damn tingling sensations to dance a trail below your waistline. Suddenly, he steps hard and direct into your space, putting you off balance, and since your legs are now flush with the side of Donnie’s seated posture, you fall back hard into Donatello’s lap.

For just a second, you looked around confused as to why you didn’t fall very far and just as you realize Donnie’s lap had saved you, Raphael’s grinning face closes in, bringing his mouth close to your neck, “…I believe ya find us sexually arousing, princess.”, he purred out close to your ear, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

Despite the unfamiliar spot you find yourself in, Raph’s actions, the heavy musk in the air, and his ultra-close proximity have caused another fresh flow of inner fluids to escape into your panties. To add to your dilemma, your nipples start to strain against your thin laced bra, joining the mutiny. Damn your betraying body!

“Wh-what?...why? Why do you say that?”, you replied, flustered beyond belief to be sitting in Donnie’s lap, while Raph’s enormous frame cages you down, looking directly in your eyes, waiting for verbal confirmation.

Your eyes wide with shock and embarrassment, look around to Donnie for help. He had moved his one arm to help catch your fall, but his other hand is still steadying typing data into the keyboard, seeing your confusion while taking note of the delicate colors of your eyes, he offers an explanation, “I believe he’s referring to your pheromones. They are quite…(clears throat)…potent today.”.

“Don’t be coy, Don.”, Raphael purrs out, leading straight into a body vibrating churr, “basically, sweetheart, we can smell ya. Dat scent leakin’ out is tellin’ me ya want ta get your freak on wit’ da freaks. Dat yer hot for some turtle.”, he licks his plump lips as his eyes trace circles around the nipple peaks begging to be set free, he looks back at you, “Probably been thinking ‘bout it for awhile now.”.

Feeling like cornered prey, you can’t help the reflexive swarm that twists through your body, which causes Donnie to need to shift his position under you before he starts adding to the uncomfortable situation.

It’s all Donnie can do to keep focused on the computer screen. Raph said he was going to serve and deliver, and it is starting to seem like maybe Raph’s ‘theory’ is correct. Your scent has magnified tenfold in the short time that Raph marched you back into his lap. Could you actually find them sexually appealing? Of all the time he spent imagining shared pleasurable time with you, he never truly believed it could ever happen. Yet, here you were, flaring red hot in pheromones and other scents, seemingly responding to Raphael’s advances.

“Uh…”, you lick your parched lips and try to scoot back further into Donnie’s lap to put some breathing distance between you and this wall of muscle huffing at your neck, “well…I…uh”, damn what do you do? You are seemingly caught between a proverbial rock (of muscle) and a growing hard place in Donnie’s lap. Well…you have been wondering if it was possible, and here was your chance to find out, literally, staring you straight in the face.

You swallow hard and think well…fuck it…either I say yes and this either turns out to all be a ploy for Raph to have another good laugh at my expense (what’s new there?), or I end up having my cake of Donnie and eating it too with Raph.

With your mind made up, you twist in Donnie’s lap to face him. Your tiny hands rise to grip the upper lip of his plastron, needing to ground yourself before taking the leap you’re about to take, and you look into his golden amber eyes magnified by his glasses, having always adored the green flecks that are sprinkled like confetti throughout them, and addressed him directly, “Yes, I’m attracted to you. And, yes, I have been for a while. I just wasn’t sure…um…if it was a possibility, you know,”, you shrug your tiny shoulders from doubt, “if you thought about…, if we could…”, you trail off unsure of how to continue.

“HA!”, Raph’s hand smacks the back of Donnie’s shell hard, causing the entire chair to jostle and groan, “I KNEW IT!”, he continues to boast but his commentary is all but lost on Donnie.

In the matter of two seconds for you to finish your sentence and Raph’s hand to collide with his shell, his mind had lost all interest in the computer issue, analyzes, and commits to memory the feeling of your warm fingertips brushing across his scales just over his plastron, and moved through various positions and locations he wants to take you in!

Donnie’s mouth crushes to your’s in a flash. Your breath is literally stolen from the force of his kiss, his tongue urgently demanding entry. As his kiss deepens, and his lips stay firmly attached to you, he quickly stands up from the chair, cradling you to his abdomen, and throws a back-kick sending the chair across the lab.

Raph watches the sudden change in disbelief. DAMN. Who knew his baby bro had that much ferocity in him? Raph looks between the now toppled chair and Donnie’s departing back, “Uh…Don…”.

Donnie quickly walks with you to the lab door, unlocks it, and departs out of the room, leaving Raphael staring in shock. Raph is not exactly sure what just happened, or what he should do now, sex-crazed Donatello is new territory for him, “Um, Don…where ya goin’?”, Raph calls after his baby brother.

Raph hears a half growled, half worded response: “I ALWAYS WANTED TO TRY THIS.”

Raphael follows and finds growling and muffed giggling sounds coming from the open door to the bathroom. Quickly, he enters and closes the door behind him, “Dude! Ya gonna wake the whole lair! What da hell are we doin’ in da bathroom?”, he asks just moments before Y/N is shoved into his empty arms.

“Shower!”, Donnie replies before tripping out of his boots, disappearing into the shower stall and turning on water spray. He returns out of the stall to see Raph and Y/N looking curiously at him, in his now wet pants. “What?”, he asks to their curious looks. “I’ve always wanted to try it in the shower and, well, this is going to be quite messy…so…two birds, one stone type of thing”, he replies with a shrug.

Raph chuckles deeply, “Bro, is yer dick taking all da blood from yer brain? Ya just walked into da shower wit’ yer pants on. I ain’t even gonna mention yer bandana ‘n glasses.”, he snorts. “Here”, Raph passing Y/N back to Donatello, “lemme show ya how it’s done”.

As you sit cradled in the arms of your favorite tall terrapin, his brawny brother starts to remove his coverings. First, he slips one of his sais out of its leather strap, makes a show of twirling it before placing it between his teeth with a wink to you. Next, he slides out of his leather chest harness, the heavy weight of the leather and buckles echoing around the bathroom’s interior in a resounding thug and clank as the chest adornment is discarded to the floor. “Put her down, Don”, Raph instructs his brother, around the sai in his mouth, as his meaty knuckle gloves are stripped from his hands.

As Donnie lowers you to stand in front of him, you’re facing Raph who hasn’t torn his gaze from you, holding you captive that intense stare of his. With a sniff and a snort, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his shorts and he drops them to the floor. Dear God, his going commando! Stepping straight out of them, he closes in, holding your gaze, while your eyes desperately fight to stay north of the monster jugging out from behind his legs. He’s within inches of you, you can feel the heat radiating off the wall of muscle. You watch mesmerized as his hands lift to the knot at the back of his skullcap, and just for a split second you watched uncertainty streak across his gaze, right before he yanked the red covering off and tossed it to the side with an alpha snort.

You have never seen him like this before. Damn…what the difference that mask makes! If he looked scary before, now he could down right stop a grown man’s heart from fear if he chose to. The full forest green tones of his upper face were on full display...and terrifyingly beautiful. His crown was covered in raised scales, resembling a very muted version of gator scales, none of his other brothers had that!

For a moment he continues to stare at you, before he removes the sai from between his teeth and adverts his eyes to watch it twirl in his hand. You can sense a bit of his bravo is gone, seemingly waiting for your reaction. “Raph”, you release in a breathy exhale, the awe is fully apparent in your voice, “you’re…beautiful”.

Like the flip of a switch…just like that, Mr. Cocky is back! You suddenly find the tip of the sai poised under your chin, keeping your face lifted to see that side-cocked smirk that he is infamous for, he licks plump lips very slowly, thoroughly enjoying drawing out the moment, “Ya think so?”, he murmurs out as the tip of the sai draws a line down your delicate throat, peeking into the collar of your shirt and lifting it out ever so slightly.

The sharp intake of breath over your shoulder reminds of you the slender terrapin that has been sniffing, kissing and caressing your head, neck and shoulders this entire time. With another hardy chuckle Raph kneels down, even at his lowered stance he’s still eye level with your upper chest, and he slides the end of the sai’s cold steel under the hem of your t-shirt, caressing the skin underneath, and looking up at Donnie.

“I think she’s got entirely too many clothes on, wouldn’t ya say lil bro?”, Raphael’s deep rumbling voice purrs out right before he expertly flips the end of the sai around, sliding in between the leg wraps that he wears for battle and his scaled skin. With the flick of his wrist, the wraps fall in unison to the floor, removing the only remaining cloth from Raphael’s body. “Now, I could easily remove yer clothes, sweetheart, but ya wouldn’t have much ta walk home in after…”, he addresses you again, as the cool metal of the sai returns to trail a line of goosebumps across your belly.

Understanding that Big Red means business you quickly lift your arms over your head in a silent gesture for Donnie to lift your shirt off.

Taking his cue, Donnie’s long fingers snake in under your hemline but don’t stop there. Sure, he could just pull the garment off, but there are so many tactile sensations to experience along the way.

His fingertips dragged up each of your sides, gliding over your skin (much like they had before with your laptop), dipping over the curves of your ribs, and pushing the shirt up as they pulled higher.

The smoothness of your flesh excites him and he moans into your ear right before he finished pulling the shirt off. He discards the top quickly and, just as hurriedly, wraps his long arms around your torso, crushing your back into his plastron, while his right hand pulls your jaw to the side to engulf your mouth in another fevered kiss.

With Donnie distracting you, Raphael takes the opportunity to continue removing your clothes. Flicking the button of your shorts, he peels the opening back with a purr. Dipping down he buries his snout into the opening and draws your scent in with the powerful intact of his massive lungs. The scent of a sexually receptive female hitting his brain like a drug, he rolls his head, his pupils are blown wide, and a forceful churr rolls out of his throat. Being that is he so close to your lower half, the shaking waves of his churr penetrate through your skin, vibrating your insides and causing your pussy to throb and gush.

Donatello whimpers into your mouth at your fresh scent soaking into the air. You moan into his mouth, tongue caressing over his, mentally begging him to take his talented tongue lower. As Raphael helps you step out of your shorts, panties, and sandals, one of Donnie’s hands slams down hard and fast over your now naked sex…with a muffed growl.

Tearing himself away from you swollen lips, his eyes laser focus in on where his hand is resting. Wanting to be the first to taste your tantalizing scent, his fingers glide easily between your soaked folds, drawing out your wetness. A string of mumbled curses fall from his lips as he lifts his fingers to his mouth.

Reverently, his tongue reaches out to lap at the slick wetness glistening on his digits. You watch captivated by the motion, the first touch of his tongue gathering your essence from his finger, the slip of the tongue back into his mouth, feeling, the rather than hearing, the rumble spread through his body, and then his lust darkening eyes looking down at you…’oh, fuck’, is all your mind can process before a feral, snarling Donnie literally rips your bra from your body.

Seeing his, normally, very docile brother’s reaction has Raphael extremely curious, so he nuzzles his beak down into your mound, jutting out his long tongue and gathering a bit of you for himself.

Your legs nearly buckle as you feel a very large, wet appendage pull across your aching sex. You moan and drop more heavily into Donnie’s arms and wanting to reach out and hold Raph’s head to your center; however, the large brute is already rising from his knees. “Here, give her ta me, let’s get dis shower started”, he murmurs in a voice so husky from lust you swear its dropped several octaves. He steals your weight from Donnie’s arms and starts walking towards the shower stall.

In his more animalistic, less mentally attuned state, Donatello immediately tries to follow. Raph firmly stops him with a hand to the middle of his slender brother’s plastron, “DUDE! Yer PANTS!”, he grouses while shaking his head, “…and we call ya the genius one!”.

You moan at the feel of the warm water rushing over your sensitive skin as Raph hugs you from behind, pushing his firming erection into the crease of your ass cheeks and enjoying the sliding friction offered there. “Fuckkkkk me!”, his gravely voice moans into you ear, “I knew dis shit would feel good, but, FUCK, gurl I think ya are gonna kill me, and dis fine ass…”, he emphasizes with a hard smack which causes you to yelp in shock,” has already got Genius out der *fucked up*.”. Biting his lower lip and groaning, he dips his mouth down to taste the honey pot of your sex swollen pucker.

Hastily, Donatello strips out of his cargos, peeling and flinging his bandana and glasses (to God knows where), before joining Y/N and Raphael under the hot spray. He sees that Raph has already claimed your lips, so he moves in close to explore the chest that he got a quick glimpse of earlier.

Your breath shoots out into Raphael’s devouring mouth as you feel Donnie latch on to one of your nipples. Instinctively, you hand reaches to the back of his head and pushes his snout deeper into your fleshy breast, wanting him as-close-as-fucking-possible. You wanted to feed him with yourself. His sinful tongue dances around your perk peak while simultaneously trying to suck your soul out through the areola.

You whimpered and huffed into Raphael’s mouth, your desire was palatable on his tongue. A devilish chuckle purred out of him as he pulled back to drink in your sex blown eyes, “Good, is he?”. “Here..”, Raph reached up and grasped your other breast, firmly squeezing it, kneading it, before jiggling it temptingly to his brother, “…don’t forget to have a balanced meal.”.

Donnie gnarled in response, like a dog with a bone, abandoning the original nipple to snap so hard and quickly at the one Raph was offering, he nearly bit Raphael’s finger. “Ohhhh….yeah, he’s hungry”, Raph purred into your ear, still steadily pumping his now fully engorged cock between your ass cheeks.

You can feel the slick of his precum coating your cervice. Feeling the intensity of the situation and needing more, your started to grind back on his lap, causing each upward slide of his cock to slip further in your ass’s cleft, skirting across the sensitive outer ring of your anus.

First time you knew he felt your backside pucker kiss at the head of his dick, he let loose a snarl, grabbing your jaw, lifting your chin high to stare back into his eyes, “Woman…dat’s a dangerous game, I’m tryin’ ta hold it ta’gether here. I promised Genius, who's currently sucking dem tiddies raw, dat I’d behave.”.

Without realizing it a pout develops on your face and a defeated whimper escapes you, Donnie’s eyes zero-in on the pout on your face, causing a snarl to erupt from him.

“No.”, he barks back at Raphael. He’s huffing through a clenched jaw as he rising to his full height and firmly grabs you under the arms, lifts you, and slams you back into Raph’s plastron, causing Raphael to reflexively hold you in place. Donatello steps close to nuzzle his snout deep into your neck, purring, whining, kissing your sensitive skin, finally he pulls back and searches your gorgeous eyes for a moment, his hormone-fogged mind fighting to make the right choice to keep your face from pouting, then he turns a hard stare at Raph over your shoulder, “ANYTHING she wants, she GETS!”, his growls, the clicking undertones…unmistakably threatening.

For a moment Raph is stunned, hell, you are too. Sweet, loving, cordial, docile Donnie just ferally threatened his big behemoth hot-head of a brother….AND IT WAS FUCKING HOT!

Swallowing hard, Raphael glances at you to make sure everything’s okay, to which you give a small shrug, “Yeah, sure, Don, she’s da princess, whateva she wants”, Raph replies placatingly.

Donatello’s harsh gaze never leave’s Raphael’s eyes until he drops down to his knees to go in for another taste of you. You gasp audibly as Donnie’s mouth starts to explore your folds as Raph still holds you stationary in the air.

Raph leans in close to your ear, careful to keep his voice low, “See. Ya fuckin’ broke him. Dat’s some dangerous pussy ya got der.’’, he chuckles darkly.

Donnie’s tongue slips between your seeping folds with vigor. He moans as more of your essence slides down his throat, the flavor something he could never have imagined. Deeper he pushes his tongue, massaging up the sides in your canal, finding that elusive spot inside, causing you to swarm in Raph’s arms. The moment that Donatello’s mouth closes around your clit, you buck sharply and Raph nearly loses his grip on you, “careful! If ya fall and get bruised I’m sure he’ll skin me alive”, he admonishes, but you are too close to the edge now to hear him.

Your head rolls back into his shoulder, as strangled groan starts to seep out of you. “Ah, Genius found da boom button, huh?”, he kisses to your temple. He grins down at his brother virtually eating you alive between your legs and eggs him on, “Don, she’s about ta blow, think ya can do betta’ than dat?”.

The next thing you know, all of Donnie’s focus is suckling your tiny nub. Feeling your insides start to squeeze taunt and shake, your eyes widen, and your arms shoot up around Raph’s thick neck to hold on tight. Your legs start to quake involuntarily, signaling Raphael to tighten his grip. Raph’s grip on you becomes bruising as your inner world explodes as one of Donnie’s thumbs slips into your canal while his face continues to shake over your clit.

Your orgasm rolls over you like a consuming storm. Your nails dig into Raphs thick hide as your hips rock with abandon. Watching you lose it in his arms, has Raphael horny as fuck. He captures your moaning mouth and dranks down your verbal release, relishing feel your tiny body jerking and quaking against his own, “Mmmmm….”, he moans against your lips, “fuck, I gotta see dat again”. Considering that Don is still firmly planted between Y/N’s legs and longingly licking soothing strokes with his tongue over your still pulsating pussy, Raph figures that is a pretty safe request.

“Raph”, you plead up to him, jerking your hips for his attention. “What?”, he purrs against your temple, “what does da princess want?”.

Now that you’re calming down, it feels safe to enough to support your weight with just one of his arms, so he snakes the other ones around to fondle your breasts. You coo at him, licking your swollen lips, looking like the most salacious temptress that ever fucking lived, causing his blood to boil and his cock to seep. “Ah, fuck, baby gurl….ya gotta have mercy on me and tell me whatcha want from me”.

“Fuck, Raph, I want to feel you between my ass cheeks again….please!”, you breath huskily at him.

A rumble rolls through his chest, as the hand fondling your breasts disappears beneath you. He nuzzles his snout into the side of your head and whispers with ragged breath in your ear, “Ya wanna feel me here?”, he asks allowing his fingertips to glide through your ass crease, slick as fuck from your own release.

“Mmmm…” you moan and nod your head for confirmation. “Ya sure?”, his smug face asks teasingly, “ya sure ya want to feel my FAT cock hotdoggin’ des plump cheeks of yers?”, smacking your ass for emphasis. Again, you hum your approval while rocking your hips against Donnie’s kissing lips.

“Baby gurl, ya gotta be sure ‘cuz it’s pretty slick back der, ya never know what slip up and happen…, he murmurs to you, and as the word ‘slip’ leaves his devilish lips, the finger gliding teasingly between your ass cheeks slips into your anus, plunging deep as he bites as your lips as they start to moan.

Suddenly, Donnie rising out of his pussy worship posture to lean in from the front, seeking more of your kisses. The taste of you is all over his mouth. His tongue slides in, virtually tongue fucking your welcoming mouth. As Raph still cradles you, rubbing your ass, and fingering your back hole, you feel lost in euphoria. Your hands desperately grasp for Donnie’s shoulders, wanting to touch what your eyes had visually roamed over just earlier. Feeling the firm rounds of his deltoids under your fingertips has you whimpering with want.

Donatello’s mind flares in denial at the sound of your whimpering, his girl shouldn’t want for anything, grasping his cock firmly he pumps it a few times before lining it up with your swollen heat. “Te requiro”, you hear him mumble against your kissing lips. “Huh?”, you reply before feeling his long shaft entering your tight core. He sinks in slowly, allowing your body to give in freely to him, as his snout strokes across your jawbone, peeking up to take in the wanton desire on your face as you slowly accept him.

When he finally hilts deep, pushed up behind your cervix, you takes the weight of you out of Raphael’s hands. He keeps your back flush against Raph’s plastron, using Raph’s massive body as leverage to keep you pinned and free-floating between them.

The tightness of your canal is almost suffocating. He thought he knew what to expect, hell he’d researched the subject enough in his youth, but actually being encased in a small human vagina is way more overly stimulating than even he could have imagined. His astute mind is desperately fighting to remain in control while being overwhelmed by all the new data.

Your quivering insides quickly recover and move from shocked to demanding. You roll your hips into Donnie’s shaft, earning a low moan from him in return, “Vos sentio bonum”, he groans into your neck. “Huh?”, you reply again, but your only answer is Donnie’s hips starting to pump in and out of you freely. His lengthy cock pulling pleasure with stroke, angling back and up, seeking its target. He hisses as shaft finds its mark, causing your vaginal walls to clench down tightly in anticipation. Faster he pumps, feeling your body respond, starting to flex and massage him from the inside, another burst vocals streams out of his mouth, “Mihi opus est ad te quotidie vilis!”.

You lift you face back to Raph, quirking up your brow, confused by the odd words coming out of Donnie’s mouth. Raph rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge between his nose, “Don, dude, I think ya’ve slipped into latin, or some shit, and we’re not understandin’ shit yer sayin’”.

Despite the heat of the moment, you find yourself laughing hardily at the day and night antics of your two fuck buddies. How is it that annoyingly cocky, hot-headed Raph has been come the solid, reliable one and sweet, genteel, mastermind-in-a-clinch Donnie is having streaks of tamelessness and mental malfunctions?

“Oh, ya think its funny, do ya?”, Raph hums into your ear, “well, like I said before, ya break it, ya buy it. He’s yer problem now, and when Leo ‘n dad want ta know what’s wrong wit’ him, I’m sending them yer way!”, he smacks your ass again, quick and sharp, earning to shrill yelp from you. “Now…”, he says, sucking his tongue across his teeth, “I do believe ya asked me fer somethin’ and, accordin’ ta the artist formally known as Genuis here, I must give ya anythin’ ya ask for.”.

With Donnie still pounding away at your pussy, you swear he’s still mumbling latin under his breath, you can feel another startlingly hard shaft being teased between your ass cheeks. To be as encouraging as possible, you lean back and make sure to lick at the side of Raphael’s neck as he continues to tease you both with the tip of cock.

Raph uses precum spread between your plush tush, angling his shaft up as to slide in easily as Donnie pushes you into him. He allows a few strokes to tantalize and tease your outer ring, working you up for entry. Your breathing starts to become deeper the more he rocks his hips into, pushing ever-so-slightly at your backend pucker. He rubs his large palms down your hips and on your thighs, petting and stroking you into submission. His breathes are coming as hot huffs from his mouth that dance across the back of your shoulders. Just as he can feel your body giving in, he reaches around rubbing circles around your clit as he sinks the head of his cock past your breaking point.

You both moan in unison and Donnie hisses at the added pressure to your vaginal canal. Knowing things aren’t probably going to last much longer, Raph starts steadily rocking into you, slowly gain entry centimeters at a time. “Fuck…”, he moans into your ear, “baby gurl, dis ass is heaven, I’m not gonna last long”. Enjoying the filling sensations, the extra pressure pushing Donnie’s cock further forward and being a constant pressure point on your inner nerve bundle, you swarm in ecstasy, and push back taking in as much of Raphael’s massive cock into your ass as you can.

The churr rumbling out of him only adding to the euphoria of the moment, which quickly doubles as Donnie’s own churr echos in response.

The brothers start working in unison, making sure to give you as much of them as possible with each stroke. Donnie having been enjoying your tightest the longest is starting to lose it. “Y/N, I’m about to cum…ah…”, streams out of his mouth but your body can already be tell he is hitting his peak and, apparently, wants to do it with him. Out of nowhere you feel your insides clamp down as the tether in your abdomen pulled tight. As your release starts to rock you, your vaginal walls undulate around Donnie’s shaft sending him over the edge. Feeling you shake and quiver in his arms again, has Raph chasing behind the two of you quickly. Big Red’s thrusts because sharp and quick. He pops the head of his cock in and out of your ass ring repeatedly, enjoying the added sensation of breaking the surface over and over again. Finally, his hefty cock sinks deep as the first streams of ejaculate shoot out of him, leaving him roaring in satisfaction. He continues to slowly pump his hips lazily through one of the best orgasms he’s ever had, biting his lip as he grabs the thick flesh of your ass in appreciation.

The three of you thoroughly spent, stand motionless under the spray of the shower.

@turtle-babe83 @tmntspidergirl @nittleboo @raisin-shell

Tags

Tmnt donatello smut raph

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l30nh3rt

2 years ago

Time and Time Again

*** This fic is something I've been excited for ever since @dicetheroll, @rainiishowers, and I brainstormed the concept for it in the Hive Discord! It the most voted for the recent "Help Me Choose" post, so alas, Barbatos simps, this one's for you. I hope you all enjoy it ❤️-B ***

Summary: Barbatos loves MC. He has loved them for nearly as long as he has known. He goes back and relives every second that he can with them, over and over again. But, after experiencing a time line so many times, one begins to notice certain patterns — MC getting hurt, for example. And after one too many times, he decides that he can't stand idle by any longer.

*Spoilers up to Lesson 16*

The confusion, but glittering curiosity that shimmers in your eyes never ceases to excite him upon the inevitable first meeting. It's one that he's lived a thousand times, yet still, it remains one of Barbatos's favourites.

Sometimes, when he first gets there and hears Lord Diavolo and Lucifer discussing your new pact with Mammon, he'll see you — the slight twitch of irritation in your brow in the way they converse as though you're not there. The proud puff of your chest as they remain in awe of your achievement. The flickering of your gaze around you, ever alert and cautious — and he'll forget you're not an MC who knows him yet.

But there comes the moment, where your observant stare falls onto him and your soft lips purse.

"Who are you?" You ask, just as you have a thousand times before. He's memorized the question and the way your voice dictates the words.

To him, the question reads like poetry. Who are you? So innocently unaware of the history you've shared with him. As friends. As allies. As enemies. As lovers. You ask the question, completely unaware that you are his polar magnet — a ruthless force that constantly draws him in no matter how he may resist.

And resist he did — at first at least. He had responsibilities and duties. Diavolo was meant to be his priority, not a rambunctious human who had no concept of self-preservation. And yet

"Ah yes. Pardon me," he responds with a subtle grin. "I suppose we haven't met before, have we?"

There it is. The slight flush that painted your expression as he took your hand into his and kissed the back of it.

He already knew which way this route will be going, he decided it before he even entered the timeline.

He has seen you choked, and broken, and ripped to shreds. He has seen you destroyed both mentally and physically to the point that had become nothing but a shell. He has stood as a bystander as you lived a life with each and every one of the brothers, his lord, and even Simeon and Solomon — and he has witnessed both the good and bad endings of each of those relationships.

Time, as it seems, was not kind to you, despite all the kindness that you gave. It would chew you up and spit you out with every chance that it got.

But not this time. Barbatos would be sure of that.

This time, he spared no mind to being suspicious to others or acting out of character. His only concern was you and your safety — and in order to ensure your safety, he needed to become close with you as quickly as he could.

He spent your lunch hours by your side — claiming he needed your aid with paperwork or surveying the students. It would hurt your connection with Mammon, sure, but for all his efforts, Mammon never was all that great at his job of protecting you.

He, much to Diavolo's delight, would often invite you over for tea and dinners at the castle — it was a joy to be the one to introduce you to your favourite Devildom delicacy. The honor was usually reserved for Beelzebub, but he found he couldn't help himself.

It was after one of these dinners, as you aided him in doing the dishes that he dared to spark a conversation he had only initiated a handful of times before.

"MC?" he questioned as you scrubbed the porcelain plates with the same care and ease as one would when handling an ancient artifact.

"Hm?" You hummed in response, squinting your eyes to glare through the soap suds at a particularly tough stain.

He smirked knowingly as he set down his drying towel and faced you. "Make a pact with me."

He quickly reached down and caught the plate slipping through your fingers before you had time to even process you had dropped it. You blinked at him with wide eyes as he carefully set it back on the counter.

Barbatos could feel your gaze on his back — filled with pure shock and confusion. It was one he knew all too well.

You had told him once, after the first time he had ever proposed the pact, that you had never expected him to ask you this. Not in a million years. You knew he had a pact with Solomon, but no one truly knew how that particular agreement came to be (and he would much rather keep it that way). But you also knew how much trust went into bestowing a pact with someone. It was not something to take lightly.

"Barbatos," you breathed with awe on your tongue. "You ... Why?"

To protect you. To ensure that he could be by your side in an instant the second you call out for him. To keep you safe from the world — from time. To love you.

He smiled and went back to putting away the dishes as though he hadn't just offered his entire being to you. "You already have Mammon's. And I hear that you have a contest with Leviathan soon approaching to earn his. It seems you've become a collector of sort."

And if the promptness of the decision had anything to do with the lingering threat of Leviathan's rage during said competition, well, Barbatos was hardly one to offer spoilers.

You huffed and placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to face you. He reveled in the closeness. "This is serious. I- You're not usually one for jokes. I- I mean, pacts are a big deal, right? I'm just beginning to understand that. I-"

He gently scooped your hands into his own gloved ones and peered deeply into your eyes. "We're friends, are we not?" he couldn't help the flare of pride that ran through him as your expression grew flush. "I like to keep my friends close. I like to protect them. And this, this pact? It's the best way I can think of to keep you as protected as possible."

A frown dug at your lips as you tilted your head in confusion. "Isn't that what the brothers are for? Do you not trust them?"

Quite honestly, no. He didn't. More often than not it was them who were the very cause of your pain. He would never understand why his Lord thought that it was best to keep you there, with the brothers who had barely agreed to the program in the first place, over keeping you in the castle with them. But that was out of his control.

This, however, was not.

"I think they do the best they can," he answered instead as he peered down at your joined hands. He would never grow tired of just how nicely they fit together. "But this is different. It's a personal comfort that you're alright," your breath hitched as he his thumbs caressed your knuckles. "Would you allow me that one little peace, MC?"

"Okay," you whispered, and that oh-so-beautiful burn ran through him and branded itself into the base of both of your throats, just under your voice box.

He couldn't help but smile. Teal always looked so good on you.

He lifted a single hand to touch the mark — it was still warm to the touch. "Perfect," he muttered.

The pact was good. It meant you two were connected now. But it wasn't enough.

He knew from experience. The pact alone wouldn't prevent you from nearly dying in the competition. It wouldn't stop you from getting Leviathan's cursed album and finding your way to the attic.

It wouldn't stop Belphegor.

The night before the competition he made his way to the House of Lamentation with one goal in mind — to take the pendant of the Lord of Corruption's lost wing that Solomon had given you.

You hadn't spoken in detail with Simeon as Satan had advised you. Meaning this pendant was your only chance of winning the competition. Without it, you would lose, Leviathan would never go into a frenzy, the two of you would never form a pact, and most importantly, he would never give you the cursed TSL album that would allow you access to your doom.

Barbatos knew what this meant. He would be completely shredding apart the timeline and creating a number of unknowns.

But it had to be done. To save you.

As he was making his way out the door, a large hand on his shoulder stopped him in place.

Barbatos felt his heart nose dive from his chest to his stomach as he stared at the door not five feet in front of him. "I have to do this," he said firmly even as dread began to swirl within him.

"You know you can't," came the Young Lord's voice — calm, for once. Thick with morose solemn.

The butler swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. "They're going to die.

"They will." "I can stop it." "No. You can't," Barbatos felt his hands begin to shake at the finality in his tone. "You know this. It's fate."

Anger boiled deep in his stomach at those words. "It's fate," Diavolo would always tell him, as though that excused the endless hardships you were forced to endure.

It wasn't fair, he knew that. Diavolo loved you just much as Barbatos himself did. But he didn't understand. How could he?

While he may be able to see through lies, he couldn't travel through time as Barbatos could. He didn't have the power to actually change fate like Barbatos did.

He wasn't the one who could do something, but has been forced to stand by and do nothing every single time and just watch.

Watch as your back broke and blood trickled out from your lips. Watch the soul leave your eyes as your face remained frozen in eternal horror. Watch as you died. Time, and time, and time, and time, and time, and time, and time again all because it was fate.

His hands twitched at his side. "Why?" He pleaded in grievous whisper. "Why not just this once? They live, and they'll be safe."

The grip on his shoulder tightened. "It's MC's fate to sacrifice themself for the betterment of the Devildom and those within it. Just as it was Lilith's fate to die so her brothers could fall and take their rightful place here. If it didn't happen here, and now, it would only happen later on. But in ways that we won't be prepared for."

"I know" he damn-near growled. Where Diavolo could only speak based on theory, Barbatos had lived it.

One time you were kidnapped by a rebellion who disagreed with the exchange program and publicly mutilated you as an example. The next, your head was sent to Mammon by the witches he loved to infuriate. In another, your soul was claimed by the very nature of the Devildom — torn apart by beasts and plants alike. And one more, the angels stole you to "train" and shape you until you're the perfect weapon against the Devildom that they'd been searching for.

And again, and again, and again.

"I hate it," he spits as exhaustion bleeds into his tone and his voice cracks. "No matter how many times I reset the timeline. No matter how many things I change, I-I can't-"

"You can't save them, Barbatos," a sob escapes him as Diavolo speaks. "I'm sorry, but you can't. It's ... It's impossible."

And that was it. Wasn't it? There were simply somethings that, no matter how hard you tried, you could simply never change.

A little over a week later, his pact ignited. He felt the air cut from his lungs. He felt his spine break into two. He felt the blood trickle down his throat and flood his lungs. He felt his stomach flip as he plummeted.

He felt you die. Just as you had before. Time and time again.

***Oh this may be on of my favourite fics I've written yet. I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did! Thank you all again for endless love and support. You guys are the best community I could ever ask for. Love you all! ***

Tag List: @thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @rul-of-demise @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21 @theother4 @todoroses @circus-of-freaks @fuzzyphotography @avatar-mikazuki @curatoroffiction @sunlightocean @taare-ginn @dragon-rider-with-a-book @korneatto @rphantom1

Tags

fluff BARBATOS om

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l30nh3rt

2 years ago

HEDAKYLO ➣ MASTERLIST

Under the cut you will find a masterlist of all my work! It has been alphabetized & organized accordingly. I really hope this helps you all out & makes navigation easier on mobile!

Keep reading

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masterlist

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l30nh3rt

2 years ago

Izuku punishes you for talking poorly about yourself,,

as someone who’s dealt with insecurity and low self esteem for most of his life, he’d definitely take your words personally, regardless of how you meant it. His love feeling like that? On his watch??? His hero complex wouldn’t allow him to not try and handle it himself.

‘N the lesson doesn’t entail spankings or hitting, no....just orgasms

PLURAL

That man would overstim tf out of you no matter how much you apologize because “don’t apologize to me, say sorry to her” as he points to a mirror overlooking the two of you 🥺

he won’t fuck you cause only good girls get all of him, all you’ll get is tongue and fingers 🚶🏽‍♀️

Make you perch right off the edge of the bed so when your punishment comes, you can’t get away from it,, and spread ‘er open so he can get a nice look at his beautiful girl....and the poor, sweet little brat she’s attached to. Can’t get away or look away either and if you try you’ll just get put RIGHT back in place with a quick “ah-ah” and swift movement of his hands.

His doe-like green eyes look so,, dark and somber while he punishes you, like he feels your pain right along with you 😩 as he makes you look at him, you swear you can see little tears in his eyes as well; but it could just be the copious amount tears in YOUR eyes playing tricks on you as well 🚶🏽‍♀️

Tear tracks, both dry and wet rolling down your fat cheeks, curly hair a-mess, big ol’ tummy just moving from your quick little breaths, thighs trying to clench n close so bad but he’s so big between your legs it’s literally pointless—

belligerent babble mixed with sodden apologies and pleas,, you look like a masterpiece to him!

but it’s ok cause he’s gonna make you appreciate what HE sees, whether you want to or not 🚶🏽‍♀️

no amount of “Zu-Zu, please—!” or “g’nna cream” “crEAMING—!!” “p-please, can’t take it—!” will change his mind; just your swollen, fat little cunt creaming and creaming in his mouth n’ frothing around his big, calloused fingers...

“ ‘o mean to my pretty girl” he whispers tenderly, almost pouting at you as he whines about how cruel you are; “‘s the matter, huh? ’m not treating my baby enough?” how could you be so callous to this body that he worships on an altar? Has he not shown you enough love? What else can he do to get you to see what he sees?

cause of course he thinks it’s his fault,, his responsibility 😩

He’s tried words of affirmation for the longest yet here he is, still trying to teach you to love yourself... guess he’s just gonna have to fuck you stupid 🤷🏽‍♀️ can’t insult yourself if you can’t think at all, right?

Todo and Itadori too 🥺 cept he’s a bit meaner and will edge you from time to time, Yuji may even let Sukuna teach you a lesson or 2...cause you dare to insult the king’s taste?? You say he can “do better”??? You think you know better than the King of Curses???

well you’re right...his second/true form can make you cream and cry harder than Itadori ever could 🤷🏽‍♀️

and he knows it

i stumbled into another dimension while reading this

Tags

mha izuku smut

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l30nh3rt

1 year ago

dom donnie will be the end of me and i'll go happily

please that boy got me FUCKED UP. I could never get into sub!donnie…. He’s just a tiddy loving dom in my eyes.

What I love most about it is that, he doesn’t even expect HIMSELF to be acting that way LMAO. Of course when he gets himself off he is imagining himself as the dominate one, he just didn’t think to the extent of being so aggressive.

I don’t think any of his brothers would be as surprisingly demanding like that, especially with him being a head-pusher. Raph, Leo, and Mikey are all going to be gentle as they possibly can.

Praising you and getting lost in watching you struggle to fit them inside your mouth. But Donatello? Their nerdy brother?? The same guy who stutters when you show any skin, who almost fainted when you bent over in front of him in that short skirt of yours and he could barely see the bottom of your ass cheeks.

Yeah, that’s the same guy who pushes the back of your head down the first time you suck him off so the tip of his dick can hit the back of your throat and he can listen to you gag.

The noises you make from it make his cock twitch in your mouth. He also likes pulling your hair to pull you on and off, face-fucking you to put it simply.

But after all is said and done, and he’s covered your tits in his cum, he’s going to apologize for his rough behavior. He never says sorry *during* the act, but afterwards he’s a whole different person???

“I’m so sorry, angel. I don’t know what came over me it just felt so good, I’ll never do it again I promise”

Meanwhile your head feels like it’s full of cotton, lips and mouth all tingly from the harsh acts. Panties drenched in your slick, you mostly likely came in the middle of it or along with him. Dried tear-stains on your face.

You probably aren’t even listening to him ramble, just feeling so spacey and fuzzy. You look down at your chest, taking your pointer finger to wipe some of his spunk onto it. He watches you put it in your mouth, sucking on it with a little whimper.

You look up at him with your misty, fucked out eyes, “Thank you”

He can already feel his cock twitching back to life.

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l30nh3rt

2 years ago

─── 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 ! ۫ ִ ׂ ˒

❝ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. the brothers get rather distracted by your revealing clothes as you walk around the fall — dressed up in your bunny outfit for your shift during the three-day bunny event.

❝ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. lucifer, mammon, levi, beel x female reader.

❝ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. sub!reader. further tags are down below.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

⌗ MEAN DOM!LUCIFER, DOGGY STYLE, SLIGHT EXHIBITIONISM, HAIR PULLING, DEGREDATION; NAME CALLING: SLUT, SPANKING, POSSESSIVENESS, EDGING, DUBCON.

“i said,” a gloved hand pulls your head back by your hair — leaving your scalp tingling due to the pleasurable pain. “how many?”

you knew what he meant by his demanding question, however answering him when you have been caught off guard by all the things that have happened in a span of one minute, was quite impossible.

lucifer left you no escape; his large body caging yours against the wall while one hand gathered both of your wrists behind your back.

you had no time to react at all, though you should have expected this outcome the moment your eyes met his as you served the customers outside. his irises were shining a deep and dark red — a specific color that you hadn't seen them glow ever before.

his jaw was clenched the whole time while he watched the demons' every move. the eldest hated the way you were more than oblivious to their inappropriate staring and flirting. if he could, he would have fucked you right in front of them to show who you belonged to, but he wasn't about to risk his reputation due to some low life.

“speak up.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head once you felt lucifer slam his hips against yours with much force — pushing your chest even more against the surface he bent you over.

“fif— fifteen..!” every slap against your ass made your legs shake. every touch left your senses overstimulated. you weren't sure if you had answered correctly, though you also couldn't care less when his cock was touching every single one of your sweet spots.

“wrong.” lucifer answers using a cold tone, his hand harshly coming down onto the same spot. seeing you squirm under his touch made him smirk, yet his eyes were filled with resentment and anger the second he thinks back to the scenario which led to it all.

“fucking slut.” the avatar of pride mutters as he continues to pound into you from behind. the lewd sounds coming from down below must have been heard by the customers sitting on the other side of the wall — even with the music playing in the background.

“you were waiting for this, weren't you?” his hips came to halt for a second or two; the fat tip of his dick pressing against your deepest part. “waiting for me to fuck you like this.”

you could hear a low chuckle sounding from behind you, however you were too focused on bringing yourself to your orgasm by wriggling your hips back on his cock. “that didn't mean that you were allowed to move.”

lucifer fully pulled out of you — leaving you whining at the empty feeling. his hand released your wrist only to forcefully grab your jaw, making you look up at him.

“sluts like you don't get to cum so fast. you will have to earn it. we're starting over; and this time, i'll let you cum if you answer correctly.”

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

⌗ GROPING, BLOWJOB, DIRTY TALK, HE TAKES A FEW PICTURES OF U, PREMATURE EJACULATION. HE CUMS A LOT..

mammon spreads his legs wider on the couch he was sitting on as he tries to keep his phone steady. it was the same couch which a group of customers had been sitting on not too long ago.

the white-haired demon had been waiting on the opportunity to get you on your knees— stuffing your mouth full of his cock until you couldn't think about anyone or anything but him.

mammon wasn't subtle in showing how jealous he was of other customers who interacted with you. he would come interrupt your conversations from time to time, only to non-chalantly lay a hand on your ass from behind as he continued talking to the other demons.

his slender fingers played with the fishnets you were wearing; sometimes he'd twist and pull them off your skin before letting them fall back onto place. mammon loved seeing you slightly jump in embarassment at his actions.

“shit. you look beautiful suckin' me off like this.” a breathy chuckle escapes his lips, yet it was quickly replaced by a strangled moan once you teased the tip of his throbbing dick by letting your tongue brush over the sensitive spot.

mammon was reluctant to close his eyes — to focus on the pleasure. he needed to savor the sight in front of him; you, on your knees in your bunny outfit, as you struggle to fit all of him down your throat; your breasts pushed up together which he could easily take a peek at.

but most importantly; the bunny ears. that said accessory was threatening to fall off your head due to the continuous movement and probably also because of the second oldest holding onto the back of your head for support.

it was all driving him insane. mammon was quick to take a few pictures of your position in-between his legs: he is already thinking about the many times that he is going to use those lewd images to jerk off whenever he's alone.

one look at the pictures can make him cum in his pants for sure.

your sudden muffled whimpers made him snap back into reality. mammon hadn't realized that he had reached his own climax already — his hips were automatically bucking up into your mouth, forcing the loads of semen down your throat.

you had swallowed most of it while the white haired demon in front of you muttered a couple curses from under his breath as he pulled out. the rest of the liquid dripped down the corner of your lips, down to your chin.

catching your breath, you slowly looked up at the second oldest who was as caught off guard as you were. you used your index finger to wipe some of the cum off your lips — all while holding eye contact with him.

“fuckfuckfuck.” mammon groans the moment he feels himself needing to cum again. “don't — don't look at me like th— fuck!” before you realized what was happening, you felt the warm liquid stain your face. it kept going on for what felt like a couple seconds; all until your entire face and chest area were covered in his semen.

“that.. is fuckin' hot. wait, don't move. s— stay like that... need to take a pic first.”

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

⌗ JEALOUS DOM! LEVI, BREAST PLAY, TAIL FUCKING, OVERSTIMULATION, CUMSHOTS, PUSSYJOB KINDA, SLIGHT HINT TO DOUBLE PENETRATION.

“keep.. quiet..” leviathan grumbles in-between moans. his tongue was swiftly circling your perked up nipple while his fingers massaged and pulled on the other one.

it was nearly impossible to comply since your mind went blank. the only thing you could focus on was the way his cold tail explored every spot of your insides — leaving not a single space untouched, all while you could feel levi's hardened cock brush against your clit with every movement of his.

“unfair. so unfair.” leviathan frowns as he continues to tease your nipples. you could feel his warm cum from earlier slide from your abdomen down to your dripping cunt.

even the demon himself doesn't know how many times he has already orgasmed from just pleasuring you. levi loves seeing the different facial expression you can make, thus why he decided to give you maximum pleasure by sucking on your breasts while his tail does most of the work.

“they got to see that side of yours first.” the third oldest huffs after slightly biting down your sensitive bud. he was probably still jealous about the fanservice you had given a male customer at the start of your shift.

leviathan swore that he had never felt such strong envy before. it was his first time seeing you in such a revealing bunny outfit, therefore he also wanted to be the first one that you got to flirt with in those specific clothes.

why did it have to be just another regular demon instead of him? that low life doesn't deserve your praise and affectionate words.

“it should have been me. only i can pleasure you this good.” levi glares up at you as his mouth was still attached to your breasts. the soft feeling against his lips and your erotic moans were more than enough to let him grind against your pussy again. “a- and i'll prove it.”

the sudden change in speed made you scream out his name repeatedly. you felt his tail reach as far as it could with each swift and hard thrust — you felt it curl inside of you so it could press against all your sweet spots once again.

“l— levi! too much!” you cry out, however your pleas fell on deaf ears. the purple haired demon was far too gone into the pleasure as he focused on cumming again. however, this time he had other plans.

leviathan unexpectedly positioned his cock near your wet and already filled hole, sensing a mixture of his slick and yours cover his tip. your eyes widened at the realisation of what he was about to try.

“i'll fuck you so good that you'll forget all about the others you've seen today. you're going to think of only me and my cum stuffing you full by the end of it.”

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁

⌗ PUSSYDRUNK BEEL, ORAL RECEIVING (F), MANHANDLING.

you let out a slight gasp once you felt two large hands drag you by your middle while you were walking towards the room where you held most of your breaks.

there was a slight moment where your surroundings were completely unknown as it was still dark — however one thing you immediately recognized was the very familiar demon in front of you. you could easily recognize him by his cologne.

“i need you..” the sixth oldest murmurs absent-mindedly. his hand was already cupping your pussy through the leather fabric; he had to get rid of it as soon as possible or he'll lose it right here and now.

in fact, he had been on the verge of snapping ever since you walked around in that bunny outfit, serving customers their drinks which he made behind the bar - giggling at every comment they made, the sound of your heels tapping against the floor each time you walked past him to get to another table and the little white tail plastered near your ass which slightly moved with each step.

he must taste you. he needs to know how it would be like to just eat you out in that appealing outfit.

there was a single sound of a tear which echoed throughout the room, making your eyes widen at the sudden air brushing against your pussy. beel swiftly disregarded the material he ripped off in one go and placed you down on the table.

his thumb grazed over your hole teasingly, gathering your slick to get an early taste of it. “delicious. can't wait anymore.” his eyes watched your face contort with every slight touch of his. he wondered what kind of faces you would be making once he was fully eating you out.

that question of his was sooner than later answered as he let his tongue slowly tease your cunt. beel gulped a bit — the need to be rougher on you grew stronger with each second he stared at your pussy clenching onto nothing.

his big hands seperated your legs from each other even more, his palms holding onto your thighs while he hurriedly buries his head in-between them. beelzebub wasted no time in sucking and licking onto your pussy as if there was no tomorrow.

your back arched upwards due to the sudden and strong friction — almost completely lifting your upper body from the surface you were situated on. “b— beel!! mngh, fuck!”

the avatar of gluttony hummed against you in response. he was way too focused on the taste of the juices your cunt released. oh, he couldn't wait to taste your cum and then pound his aching cock into you afterwards to make you orgasm and release even more of that delicious slick.

the pants of his own bunny outfit were already too tight for him at the crotch area ever since you came out of the changing room moments before your shift started. beel has waited on this for way too long and he was going to take his sweet time in enjoying you.

he craved for your addictive voice to beg him for more. to beg him to fuck you until you can't take another step.

you looked at the demon down below and could only whimper at that passionate and almost feral gaze of his. beelzebub had lost it.

“i need you to cum. now. i'll fuck you properly if you just cum for me, okay? i'll give you as many orgasms as you can take afterwards; i promise.”

REBLOGS + COMMENTS APPRECIATED!

─── ⭑ ⌇ TAGLIST ۫ ִ ׂ ˒ @urmomondeez @of-thegreedgod @rysexblog @sweetbunsfordays @baecciarati @cirrustix @yanderewithvenom @solomons-cooking69 @inu1gf @godhatesyouandi @empatheticanimegodess @clovcly @luvbladez

++ @levicide @itsmeninerz @nosuprises @spongiform-encephalopathies @kirishwima @unlikelyitzypaintingalmond @ksenoshi @benusbeans @m-uerta @paradizemaxx

Tags

smut om

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l30nh3rt

1 year ago

she’s mine ; george x reader

(L-R) John Lennon, George Harrison, Pete Best, Paul McCartney and Stuart Sutcliffe at the Indra Club, Hamburg, 17 August 1960

request: 25. w/ George? 25- “You so much as touch a single hair on her/his head, I will tear your spine clear out of your body.” a/n: why do i always have the same plot???? like ur friends with a beatle and surprise, they like you lol pairing: george x reader summary: you visit george, your friend, in Germany and his bandmate, Stuart flirts with you. george doesn’t like that and he reveals something warnings: swearing year: 1960 word count: 785

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l30nh3rt

1 year ago

ask me

barbatos x f!reader

summary: you can't stop thinking about Barbatos' forked tail, and he's well aware, so he decides to show you exactly how he likes to use it over tea one afternoon.

word count: 2.2k

content: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut, masturbation, tail kink, penetration in both holes, tail sex, praise kink

“Ask me.”

The smooth, low tone of Barbatos’ voice softly nudges you away from your idle thoughts, and you glance up from where you’d been staring down into the depths of the cup of tea in your hands.

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Ask you what?”

A ghost of a smile plays across his lips as he tilts his head to the side, casually running a gloved finger along the filigree adorning the lip of the mug. As if in answer, his tail winks into view for a moment as his demon form pushes to the surface, twin tips twirling together before disappearing back under the table.

Your heart rate picks up at the sight, and your fingertips dig into your thigh as you stretch and rotate your ankle in an attempt to stave off the desire to bounce the nervous energy right out of your leg.

“The servants are a chatty, nosey bunch,” he muses, steepling his hands together as his green eyes sparkle.

Not quite trusting yourself to respond otherwise, you launch another question as you evenly ask, “Are they?”

He raises his eyebrows slightly and nods, leaning in slightly as if he’s readying himself to share a secret with you. “Leave anything out in the open, and they’re certain to see it.”

It doesn’t take much guesswork to figure out what he’s getting at. You’ll never forget the horror of tiredly walking back into your room at the House of Lamentation after a long day of classes last week to discover you’d left a new toy right on top of your sheets.

Asmo had excitedly drug you to a naughty looking little shop in town when he’d found you loose-lipped and horny enough one night to blurt out that one of the things you missed most about the human world were vibrators. Needless to say, you’d worn yourself out that night as you shamelessly plunged your new purchase your needy hole, bringing yourself over the edge thrice before you finally collapsed beneath the sheets, tossing the sticky toy aside and quickly falling asleep.

And it would have been fine, really.

You’d have no issue earning yourself a whispered little reputation at RAD for masturbating, for fuck’s sake. You certainly weren’t living in a house of angels, after all.

The issue was the specific vibrator that you’d chosen. The one you’d been unable to look away from after your eyes landed on it across the store, subtly clenching your thighs together the entire way home as you felt the weight of it in the shopping bag knocking against your leg with each step.

When Asmo saw the immediate glazed over look on your face the moment you walked into the store, he had gleefully explained that the Devildom’s selection of vibrators and dildos might be a little…kinkier than you were used to seeing in the human world.

Kinky didn’t even begin to describe it.

But there was one particular thing nestled amongst the shelves of monstrous cocks of all shapes and sizes that you couldn’t look away from: a teal-coloured vibrator shaped like a forked tail.

To your surprise, Asmo said nothing when he met you at the counter with a basket full of his own purchases—he simply offered you a mischievous grin as he nudged a small bottle of lube toward the cashier for you as well.

It was only later, safely in the darkness of your bedroom, that you let yourself think of it.

Think of him.

Face buried against your pillow and tears of pleasure leaking from the corners of your eyes, Barbatos’ name was a silent scream on your lips as you fucked yourself with the toy, one end of the tail stuffed into your cunt while you slid the other into your ass.

You came so hard the first time you nearly blacked out, holes squelching wetly as you greedily chased two more orgasms while the demon butler’s face flashed in the forefront of your mind. And you’d left the evidence like a beacon right on top of your bed when you’d rushed out the door for class the next morning, not sparing a single thought for the servant that would likely be in to tidy up your room in the afternoon.

Something brushes against your bare ankle, bringing you back to the present, but you can’t bring yourself to look at Barbatos. Not now that you’re certain he knows you purposely bought a fucking vibrator that looks like his goddamn tail.

As if he can feel the mortification pouring off of you in waves, Barbatos lays a gentle hand on top of yours. “Ask me if I enjoy using my tail on my lovers.”

You suddenly wish you’d taken Solomon up on his invitation to join him in researching teleportation spells. Turning your hand over, Barbatos begins to rub a comforting circle with his thumb into your palm, patiently waiting for your response.

One could say it’s difficult to want for anything with seven demon brothers willing to dote on you day in and day out during your stay in the Devildom, especially when you live with them. But, in perhaps the most cliché manifestation of the age-old adage of wanting what you can’t have, you’ve found it a battle in and of itself to stop thinking about Diavolo’s elusive butler.

At first, it was his deep voice that set you off-kilter, the tone stroking its way down your spine like liquid fire. Paired with eyes that always look like they know more than they let on and a disarmingly handsome face, the brothers and Lord Diavolo himself are hard-pressed to maintain your attention at the times when Barbatos skirts about the edges of the room, unnoticed by some but always seen by you.

While your time spent in his presence has been meager in comparison to how frequently you see your housemates, Barbatos often makes the most of it with playfully witty remarks that leave you reeling long after he leaves and kind gestures that make your heart ache, like the way he made sure the House of Lamentation was stocked with your favorite tea after you made an offhand remark about it one day.

With a menagerie of demons eager to monopolize your attention, you were nearly ready to accept defeat in the face of an impossible conquest—because in what world was Diavolo going to let you seduce his fucking butler?

Your plans to stamp out the burning embers of your little crush went to hell in a handbasket the day you saw Barbatos flash into his demon form though, unfortunately. As if seeing his elegant horns wasn’t enough to get your heart positively racing, you’d outright choked on your soup when the real star of the show revealed itself—that goddamn fucking tail.

Levi had patted you on the back as you gasped for air, vegetables and broth launching an assault on your throat as your wide eyes took in the sight of Barbatos threateningly pointing the forked appendage in Mammon’s face as he held out a hand for the money he owed Diavolo.

Once you saw that teal, forked tail in all of its slithering glory, there was no going back. The only direction you could spiral was further down into a frustratingly horny purgatory, wondering whether or not it would be uncouth to proposition the demon butler to fuck you with his tail.

And now, it’s the steady reassurance in Barbatos’ eyes as he squeezes your hand that allows you to let the words tumble from your mouth before you can think better of it, “Do you enjoy using your tail on your lovers, Barbatos?”

What can only be described as a devilish smile curls at the corners of Barbatos’ mouth, and he briefly darts his tongue out between his lips before coyly responding, “In many ways. Was there a specific one you had in mind?”

Your mouth goes dry, confidence faltering at the insinuation in his tone. “I…” you trail off, unable to muster up the filthy thoughts about the male sitting in front of you that have long-since taken up residence in your head.

A contemplative noise escapes his lips as he shifts into his demon form, slowly pushing both of your teacups aside as his tail slithers up onto the table. Your breath hitches in your throat as he lazily flicks the forked edges before pressing it closer to you, the surface of it cool and smooth as it ghosts along the curve of your jaw.

“I’ve been told the secretion has a…pleasant flavor,” he muses, eyes glittering with delight when you unconsciously part your lips at the feeling of his tail now prodding against them.

Sweet, viscous liquid that vaguely reminds you of honey, though more slick than sticky, hits your tastebuds as one forked tip presses against your tongue.

And fuck does it taste good.

You let your jaw relax, and Barbatos readily accepts the invitation, slipping his tail further into your mouth as the other tip caresses your throat. A fresh spurt of the sweet nectar pours onto your tongue, and you greedily gulp it down, moaning softly as you begin to suck on his tail. A soft growl of encouragement rumbles in Barbatos’ chest, plates and mugs clinking in protest when he tightly fists a hand in the ornate tablecloth.

“And there’s also this…” he adds, tail sliding out of your mouth and trailing down your chest, effortlessly flicking open the buttons of your RAD uniform.

Knowing full well Lord Diavolo could return to the Demon Lord’s Castle at any time, it’s a battle in and of itself not to cry out at the feeling of Barbatos squeezing your breasts with his tail. But once he uses the twin tips to tease both of your peaked nipples at the same time, the shameless whine you let out can’t be helped, not in any realm.

Meeting his gaze, you try to steady your breathing as you ask, “Where else?”

Barbatos licks his lips. “Would you still like me to…show you?”

You nod, and his tail disappears under the table, wrapping around one of your ankles and tugging your crossed legs apart. One forked tip pushes your skirt up and out of the way and then tugs aside your underwear, the other spreading your thighs so wide that you slip down in your chair slightly.

And the moment that Barbatos slides his dripping tail through your equally slick folds, your body trembles with a jolt of searing hot pleasure, and a moan so wanton and desperate tumbles from your lips that you know you’ll never be satisfied again without this—

The feeling of one end of his tail firmly massaging your swollen, throbbing clit, the other teasing at your entrance.

The desire written plainly across his face as both tips curl around one another before he begins to ease them into your cunt.

The way he leans across the table and presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, fangs scraping against your skin as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts.

The damp material of the chair beneath you, sodden with the combined arousal leaking from his tail and your wet heat.

The softly uttered, “Beautiful,” as you whimper his name.

The feral, possessive snarl of frustration that escapes him at the sound of the front door opening downstairs.

…the way Barbatos continues to fuck you with his tail even as Diavolo unknowingly strolls into the room with a grin on his face, seemingly none the wiser to the activities hidden beneath the long tablecloth. But after he deftly snatches the last biscuit off of one of the plates in front of you, he offers you a sly wink before turning on his heel and leaving, none too discreetly closing the doors to the sitting room behind him.

You’re nearly on the verge of making a comment about what just happened, but all rational thoughts leave your head when Barbatos quietly rasps, “This is my favorite place to use it, though,” just as a forked tip nudges at the tight ring of muscle nestled between your asscheeks.

He pauses, just for a breath, and you whimper, “Please.”

Appendage covered with both of your fluids, Barbatos begins to stretch your asshole open. If you weren’t so busy moaning and whining unintelligible sounds, begging him to go deeper, you’d laugh at the thought of the silly vibrator now tucked away in your room. Because while the toy had certainly felt good, you know now that nothing can compare to the exquisite pleasure of Barbatos using his real, dexterous tail to fuck both of your holes at the same time.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, reaching across the table once more to stroke your face, thumb sliding across your cheek. “So wet for me. You take me so well.”

You shudder at the praise, hardly able to contain yourself as a wave of pleasure like you’ve never felt before rises up inside of you. And when Barbatos curves his tail so that the part not ruthlessly plunging into your fucked out holes rubs against your sensitive bundle of nerves, you tug on the tablecloth so hard the teacups go crashing to the floor, your entire body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

Barbatos lets you catch your breath a moment before he pulls his tail out of you, and you can’t help but whine at the emptiness that follows.

Smirking, he brings the forked edge coated in your cum to his lips and licks it clean before purring, “I have some other things I can show you, if you’d like.”

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