When Im Playing Out A Daydream Scenario In My Head And I Catch Myself Trying To Rush To The Good Part™:

rb if you’d wipe all pedophiles off this earth

This show is a blessing on humanity and everyone should watch it

Like this clip doesn’t even do it justice, I’d upload this whole episode if I could

me: [listens to a new song]

my brain, upon receiving one single hit of Döpamine™: we shall listen to only this until we have wrung every last neurotransmitter out of it

step on it!

✶ choso kamo x gn!reader

word count ✺ 1.7K

summary ✺ Choso helps you break in your newest pair of Doc Martens <3 based on this and this drawing <33

warning ✺ minors DNI! sub!choso, boot humping/grinding, reader loves being mean, good boy choso, brief choking (m receiving), lil bit of dacryphillia, reader is gn & there’s a line about ur strap but no gendered language. today is my birthday, so this is my birthday gift to myself :) reblogs & comments are very appreciated!

Choso has an extensive Doc Marten collection. Through your friendship and now your relationship with him, you’ve introduced him to a lot of different things. He tells you that he likes how human they make him feel, and you take that as encouragement to show him as many modern human inventions as possible. You’ve got him hooked on video games, iced matcha lattes, and even a little bit of drama television. Your most precious shared interest, however, is each of your Doc Marten collections. You have a humble collection, and you used to only buy a pair once a year as a birthday gift to yourself. 

But Choso has quickly changed that tradition. His excitement over the different styles and the thought of matching with you makes him so giddy; you can’t help but feel excited with him. You just hadn’t expected him to be so into it. He sure does love his platform boots, and he even likes to pick one out and place it at the foot of the bed before tucking in to sleep. It’s cute, but he has definitely fueled your unhealthy obsession with the brand. 

You drag Choso to sit next to you on the couch the moment you see that the new collection is live on the Doc Martens website.

“Cho! Look at these platforms, aren’t they so cute?”

Choso has his head tucked against your shoulder as you scroll over the product page. You zoom into the photo as you envision yourself wearing them. 

You tilt your head. “Hm, actually, I don’t know if I should get these ones. I’ll browse the other styles.” 

Choso lifts his head. “I like them.”

You pout and scroll down the page. “I don’t think they have them in your size, baby.”

“I mean for you. I think you should get them.”

You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend. “Really? But I’ve never had platforms this high before–”

“It looks really good.”

“And I don’t know if I like the leather they used–”

“It would feel so nice,” he sighs.

You laugh. “Well, I can’t feel the leather if it’s on the outside of my feet.”

Choso blushes and tucks his face into your neck. “I-I mean it’s more comfortable with this type of leather, because it’s flexible and it lets your feet breathe better.”

You stare at him, and he shrivels under your gaze. “I don’t think that’s a real thing.”

He pouts. “It is! The man at the store told me so. He informed me that he owns thirty pairs, so he must know what he’s talking about.”

“But is that why you want me to get them?”

He squirms at your question, and stutters out, “Of course!”

You shut your laptop and push it to the side. You don’t care about the new collection anymore, not when you have something so much more enticing in front of you. 

“Choso, honey. Wanna tell me what’s got your pretty little head all twisted up?”

“I-I don’t…” He stares at you with wide, doe-like eyes. He knows he’s been caught, but he tries to keep up the appearance of indifference. “I want you to get the shoes you like, sweetheart. That’s all.”

You run a sweet, gentle hand over his cheek, which is dusted with embarrassment. You lure him in with soft kisses on his jaw, his chin, and the corner of his lips. Choso’s eyes flutter shut and you grin at the way his eyebrows furrow on instinct. You get him all nice and comfortable, and then you tug your fingers through his hair until you grip one of the buns that he’d oh-so-carefully pinned. He whines at the sting, and at the way you tug his head back and away from your torturous mouth. 

You press your lips near his ear, nibbling on the cartilage before whispering, “Why do you care so much about my shoes, baby?”

“I-I don’t. I just–” 

You mark up his pale neck, watching intently as he sighs and arches into your touch. “C’mon. You’re my good boy, aren’t you? Gotta be honest with me. M’not gonna be mad at you.”

Choso stares at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Your kisses have definitely helped ease his embarrassment to make room for his horniness. He spreads his large hands over your stomach and runs them down your waist so that he can anchor himself to your hips. He squeezes, pupils dilating as you press into him. 

“I want…I want you to step on me,” he admits, pulling you flush against him with one strong arm wrapped around the small of your back. 

You laugh, cooing when Choso goes right back to being embarrassed. “Aw, honey, wait. Didn’t mean to laugh.”

“You think it’s stupid,” he pouts into your neck.

You lift his chin so that he has to look at you. “No, I think it’s hot. You want to help me break in my boots, is that it? You wanna grind on my shoes, baby? Fuck, you're so good, I know you’d look perfect on your knees for me.”

Choso whimpers at the picture you're painting. “Please. Just wanna be good for you.”

He grinds against your core, almost like he’s subconsciously trying to prove that he can hump your boot so well.

“I wouldn’t even need to fuck you, you’d just get off on that, wouldn't you? You'd let me be so mean, I know you can take it.”

He rolls his hips upwards, jerking against you desperately. You press your palm against the bulge in his sweatpants, feeling it twitch at your touch. His eyes roll back in pleasure, and he’s so lost in the feeling that you almost feel bad for pulling away and denying him his pleasure. 

He whines at the loss of your touch. You place your laptop back on your lap. “C’mon, Cho. You have to help me pick out a good pair, yeah?”

The boots arrive faster than you thought they would—thank you express shipping. You chose them because they made Choso blush the hardest. It might have something to do with the max platforms on them.

They dig a little bit at your heel, but that’s alright. That’s what Choso’s here for. He sits on the bed as you model them, spinning in a slow circle and pointing your toe out so he can see them better. He smiles up at you sweetly, and you pretend that you can’t see him blush. 

“You look so amazing, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You stand before him, grinning when he automatically wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. You drag your hands through his hair to loosen his buns, and to tug at them just how he likes.

“Thank you, baby,” you say, “but how ‘bout you get on your knees for me, yeah? I know you’ve been aching for it.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice as he immediately sinks to the ground, switching your positions so that you’re pressed up against the bed. Choso rests his cheek on your thigh, staring up at you with those irresistible eyes of his. He keeps his hands to himself, clenched on his strong thighs so that they don’t wander anywhere they shouldn’t. You reward his behavior with a deep kiss, bending your upper body to meet his lips in a searing kiss. You laugh when he has to strain his neck to kiss you properly.

Choso gasps when you pull back to let him breathe. He looks up at you as you brush your thumb over his wet lips, swirling his tongue around the digit desperately. It’s like he’s trying to convince you to let him hump your shoe. And who are you to deny him that? You lift your foot slowly and press it into his growing hard-on. The effect is immediate. Choso moans and tilts his head back, wrapping his hands around your leg and forcing you to press down harder. Usually, you’d punish him for touching you without permission, but he’s enjoying himself so much that you don’t have the heart to.

You tut. “Are you gonna be good for me, honey?”

The sweetness of the way you talk to him makes his head dizzy. “Yes! Yes, I’ll be good for you. Promise.”

He ruts his hips up against the sole of the platform, and it's like he’s chasing the pain. His desperation fuels the fire in your gut.

“Please,” he cries.

You grin, pressing harder against his bulge. “Please what?”

His thighs are spread wide, caging your leg in between them. He grinds up into the boot, but you can tell he’s getting frustrated. It’s not enough. “Need more, please.”

You oblige, pressing down harder and wrapping your hand around his throat to get him even more worked up. He tilts his head back, giving you a great view of his marked up neck. You get a rush of possessiveness, and you wonder if you can press down hard enough to leave an impression of the boot print behind. Whether or not it's possible doesn’t matter, you’ll just try your damn hardest. Choso appreciates the effort, moaning when you press your boot down even harder.

He cries at the intensity of pleasure and pain, overwhelmed because he can’t quite distinguish between the two. Tears streak down his cheeks, and you smear them messily when you squish his cheeks in your hand. He looks up at you with those wet, dumb eyes of his, and you just want to eat him whole. 

He pistons his hips up faster, and you’d be concerned if he wasn’t letting out the most delicious sounds. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You can tell the exact moment his orgasm washes over him, twitching his hips up involuntarily, and dropping his mouth open in pleasure. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he drops his head forward to kiss haphazardly along your leg in apology.

You pull your foot back slowly, revealing the wet spot in his sweatpants. He whimpers under your intense gaze.

“Sorry,” he rasps. “Didn’t mean to.”

You hum. “That’s okay.”

He watches you suspiciously, which you suppose is fair. Because you lift your opposite foot and press the boot against his softening dick, using his cum as a lubricant. He practically squeals, which is such a delectable contrast to his low voice.

“You promised you’d help me break in both my shoes, Choso. We’re not done yet.”

“I-I…can’t. S’too much,” he says, but still he wraps his arms around your leg and pulls you closer, overstimulation be damned. “Oh. Don’t stop, please.”

Choso really loves everything that you teach him. You might have to introduce him to your strap-on next time. 

Me, on my deathbed: wtf….Why did they cancel Victorious

🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ yes yes i need it

thinking about making out with ino sloppy style and sending the vid to sugardaddy!nanamin whilst he's at work :)))

it was your idea to tease poor nanami in the middle of a work day, tho he doesn't really need to work. he has more than enough to support him and both his ✨️sugar babies✨️

and ofc takuma was into it as soon as it was mentioned... he's always on board with all your freaky ideas ;)

so you're on takuma's lap, wearing only nanami's shirt and his favorite panties on you, with takuma wearing again nanami's shirt and a pair of his boxers, showing exactly who you both belong to

your lips latch onto one another, messily kissing, wet lips moving together sloppily and devouring each other like you're starving while moaning prettily as your hands wander across each other's bodies over and under your clothes, putting on a show for your daddy

his hands are under your shirt, feeling your smooth skin and traveling down on the slope of your back until he reaches the plush of your ass which your little panties struggle to cover, caressing and kneading the soft flesh in his big hands as you hump his clothed cock

your hands rub on his tummy and chest, moving up and down under his shirt, newly manicured nails (which nanamin paid for ofc) grazing his toned abs, making him whimper under your soft touch

your movements grow desperate along with your moans and his groans as your panty covered cunt hungrily rubs against his already hardened dick, leaking and weeping under his boxers, a wet trail forming on your pretty panties from your soaked pussy as you move back and forth to get some friction on your sloppy folds...

all the while your phone sits against the couch armrest, capturing everything to send to daddy

and you grab your phone to make sure it captures the wet mess you both made between you :)

and you both giggle as you hit 'send' :b

maybe you'll show him more later when he comes back home ;)

Me: “I’m in love!”

Friend: “He’s fictional, isn’t he.”

Me:

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) | dir. Henry Selick

@Netflix please stop trying to promote amy schumer to me. please. i’m begging you. i don’t know who i hurt in a past life to deserve this or what i’ve watched that makes you think i would willingly sit through anything she has created but please make it go away i don’t want to look at her