#few complaints but not enough that it was awful

[kateschi]

chef's kiss is not enough

synopsis: a simple night out for good food changes when you meet the chef behind a dish that leaves you speechless.

pairing: chef!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the restaurant is cozy, the kind of place that doesn’t draw much attention from the outside but feels like a hidden treasure once you step inside.

soft lighting casts a warm glow over the wooden tables, and the low murmur of conversation mixes with the occasional clinking of plates.

you’re here with friends, seated at a corner table, menus spread out in front of you.

it’s the kind of night where you’re just looking forward to good food and laughter.

the waiter approaches, balancing several plates on his tray, and sets a bowl down in front of you. you thank him absentmindedly, but the moment your eyes land on your dish, you can’t help but pause.

it’s beautiful in its simplicity—steaming ramen served in a deep bowl, the broth shimmering under the restaurant’s soft light.

thin slices of pork rest delicately on the surface, alongside a soft-boiled egg, its yolk a vibrant golden color. green onions and a sheet of nori top it off, each detail deliberate and precise.

when you take the first bite, your eyes widen. the broth is rich and savory, the kind of flavor that seems to envelop your entire mouth.

the noodles are perfectly cooked, springy but not too firm, soaking up just enough of the broth.

each topping complements the next—the pork is tender, the egg creamy, the green onions adding a fresh, sharp contrast.

it’s the kind of dish that doesn’t just taste good; it feels like someone put their heart into it.

“oh my god,” you mutter, setting your chopsticks down for a moment. “this is incredible.”

your friends laugh at your reaction, one of them nudging you with their elbow. “you always get like this when the food’s good.”

“no, but this—this is different,” you insist, leaning closer to the bowl as if it holds some sort of secret. “this isn’t just good; this is like…life-changing.”

the comment earns a round of laughter, but you’re already distracted, glancing around the room for the waiter.

when you catch his eye, you raise a hand. “excuse me, who’s the chef here?”

the waiter looks surprised by the question. “our head chef is bakugou katsuki. would you like me to—”

“yes, please,” you interrupt, a little too quickly. realizing how eager you sound, you backtrack. “I mean, if he’s not too busy.”

the waiter nods and disappears toward the kitchen, leaving your friends to give you a variety of amused and curious looks.

“what?” you say defensively. “it’s not every day you eat something this good.”

a few minutes later, the kitchen door swings open, and the man who walks out is…not what you expected.

you were picturing someone older, maybe with a few gray hairs and a soft smile.

instead, this man—bakugou katsuki, apparently—is tall and broad-shouldered, his chef’s coat fitting snugly over a strong frame.

his spiky blond hair looks slightly damp, like he’s been working hard, and his expression is one of mild irritation.

he looks more like a professional athlete than a chef.

“what?” he says, his voice low and rough, as he strides up to your table. his crimson eyes sweep over the group before landing on you.

and for a moment, bakugou freezes. he didn’t know what to expect when the waiter said someone wanted to meet him—probably some pompous critic or a customer with a laundry list of complaints.

but you’re not what he expected. at all. there’s something about the way you’re looking at him, your eyes wide with a mix of nervousness and awe, that throws him completely off balance.

you’re…really pretty. too pretty, actually.

it’s annoying, how much it catches him off guard. his chest tightens, and he suddenly feels hyperaware of himself—his hands, his posture, the faint dampness of his forehead from the heat of the kitchen.

damn it.

“I, uh,” you start, faltering under his intense gaze. you weren’t expecting him to be so—well, intimidating. “I just wanted to say that the food is amazing. like, really amazing.”

for a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw tightening slightly. then he rubs the back of his neck, glancing away as if trying to compose himself. “thanks,” he mutters, his tone less gruff than before.

the way he looks away almost makes you smile.

he doesn’t seem like the type to take compliments well, and you can’t help but find it endearing. but at the same time, his presence is overwhelming, and you feel heat creeping up your neck.

“well,” he says abruptly, his eyes snapping back to yours. “if that’s it, I’ve got stuff to do.”

“right, of course,” you say quickly, nodding. “thank you again.”

he nods once, almost curtly, before turning and heading back toward the kitchen. you watch him go, your mind racing with thoughts you can’t quite organize.

the rest of the evening goes by in a blur.

you and your friends continue to chat and laugh, but your thoughts keep drifting back to bakugou. his sharp eyes, the way he looked almost flustered when you complimented him.

it’s distracting, and you can’t quite shake it.

as you’re leaving, stepping out into the cool night air, a voice calls out behind you.

“hey.”

you turn to see him standing in the doorway, still in his chef’s coat. he looks like he’s debating whether this is a good idea or not, his expression tight with something between determination and reluctance.

in his hand is a paper bag with the restaurant’s logo. “here,” he says, holding it out to you.

you blink, confused. “I didn’t order takeout.”

“it’s on me,” he says, shoving the bag toward you. his crimson eyes flick to the side, avoiding your gaze.

“oh, but—”

“just take it,” he interrupts, his voice firm but not unkind.

you hesitate for a moment before taking the bag. your fingers brush against his, and the brief contact sends a strange warmth through your chest. “thank you,” you murmur.

he nods, and for a moment, it looks like he might say something else. but then he just steps back inside, the door closing behind him.

when you get home, you open the bag to find a perfectly packaged serving of the ramen you raved about earlier. sitting on top is a small note, written in slightly messy handwriting:

xxx-xxx-xxxx the name’s katsuki. text me.

a smile creeps onto your face, and you find yourself thinking that maybe, just maybe, you will.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[cuntressgoingdigital]

abby knows how god awful you are at taking care of yourself. fortunately, she learned that just a little bit of help and subtle coercion will force you through your nighttime routine.

(aka bedtime domesticity with abby)

free palestine! click this link for more info

at night when you’re already cozied up under layers of blankets, eyes glued to your phone, she pulls you out of bed and gives you a piggyback ride to the bathroom to force you into your nighttime routine. to start, she carefully undresses you while telling you how beautiful you are and how happy she is after coming home to see her beloved. her days were long and stressful. she absolutely hated coming home late at night, only being able to hold your attention for an hour or two before sleep took over. 

“did you have a good day, baby? i missed you.” 

she’d keep you talking about your day and any other musings to keep you from begging to go back and reclaim your imprinted spot on your shared mattress. 

you lean back against her in the shower, feigning exhaustion so she can hold you up. in reality it was an excuse to feel the warmth of her skin against yours. 

“my poor baby. so, so tired.” her tone would almost sound patronizing if you hadn’t known her mannerisms. “you need me to do it for you?”

you’d nod and she would. the question was superfluous. the answer was always the same. she’d start by gently washing your face with a really expensive specialty cleanser she bought for you on nora’s recommendation. then, she’d use a combination of a washcloth and her hands to wash your body. she ran her hands along your collarbones to your shoulders, slowly moving downwards to your waist and hips. she knelt down in front of you, holding your thighs up one by one, making sure she scrubbed every inch of your body. 

while down on her knees, she couldn’t help but place a few kisses against your hips and thighs. abby always had to resist the urge to bury her face in your cunt right then and there. 

right now, she had a mission. 

these moments were mostly for you. she was a morning shower type of gal, but had no problem making sure you were taken care of, even if you didn’t want to.

after the shower she would take her time toweling you off, taking in your body like it was the first time she’d ever seen you unclothed. every time was the first time to her. she couldn’t get enough of you. 

the two of you would do the rest of your identical skincare routine together, a ritual she imposed as a ruse to get you to actually use the products you begged her to buy for you. while she brushed her teeth, you would undo her braid and carefully detangle her hair. 

at the end of the night she’d carry you right back to your spot in your dark room, pulling out a pair of pajamas for you. they never matched, something that bothered you for a while, but quickly got over knowing she would never hear out your complaints. sure, you could get your own pajamas, but it was more fun putting her to work. abby slept in the same thing every night, just a pair of boxer briefs. 

she was always the last to fall asleep, waiting to see your chest rise and fall in that familiar soft rhythm. until you did, she’d lay and watch your scroll on tik tok. abby refused to download any social media app, so you had to bookmark the videos to show to her at bedtime. the two of you softly giggled together shrouded in darkness.

abby glanced at the time, sitting up in bed to leer down at you. "don't you have to be up early tomorrow?"

"buuuuut, i'm staying up to hangout with you." you whined back.

it took a few moments for abby's face to soften with a defeated sigh "and tomorrow you'll wake up complaining about how sleepy you are."

"maybe." you reluctantly conceded. "but, what if i love you so much and want to sit and talk to you all night?"

"what if i love you more and i'll make you coffee while we talk in the morning?"

"fineeee."

wrote this at like 11pm while laying on my bathroom floor trying to convince myself to take off my makeup. love domestic abby #needthat !!

[tonycries]

WILD WILD WILD

Synopsis. No time like the first time, and his first time with you is enough to drive a man wild wild wild.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, first time fúcking you, PÚSSYDRUNK BOYS, BRÉEDING, pússy-slápping, creampíes, true form!Sukuna, dp, GOJO’S POWERS, mentions of having kíds, spítting, praise, cúmplay, vírginíty loss (Choso), proposals, slight chokíng, slightly mean Geto, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hoping you all have a lovely lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Oh baby, baby.

You’ve made it about five absolutely shattered condoms before Toji simply growls and flips you over with such a branding slap! to your cunt - as if it was your fault he hasn’t gotten to ravage his pretty girl already.

Running his tongue over that sinful scar on his upper lip, he’s spreading your puffy pussy lips open with a slow swipe of his thick thumb. Mouth just salivating at that easy, languid trickle of your sweet sweet juices glossing down his wrist. 

“Wouldn’t have even tried so hah- hard with those goddamn rubbers if I knew what ya were holdin’ out on me, doll.” Toji jeers from above, jostling your dangling legs even tighter around his slender waist. Before planting a drippingly wet smack! smack! smack! of his swollen, reddish tip right on the peak of your sensitive clit. “Just look at how drenched that makes ya.”

“Toji–” your honeyed, dragged-out whine makes him just twitch on top of you. Squirming at the way that has him gushing out a saturated puddle of sweltering hot precum onto your pre-soaked cunt. “Won’t you just put it in alre- ah!”

And Toji’s so fucking mean with the way he inches in just the very curve of his fat tip past your gummy entrance, shutting up those cute complaints on your tongue for the most delicious whine he’s ever heard.

“Heh, there we go. Finally- finally.” he gruffs out, moving over the grip of his long digits around his thickened base to wrap around your splayed-out thighs. Such an awful tease - making you do all the work shuffling down the silken sheets trying to milk his achy shaft. “Ohhh yeah- oh my god, there we fuckin- go-”

A particularly harsh clench of your velvety walls makes him throw his head back deliriously. Hoarse, baritone moans wrenching from his chest, “Yeah- you were so fuckin’ holding out. Heh, didn’t know it could feel so good. Feels like heaven, ma. Think I could fuck this cunt for forever-” He drags a hazy kiss down your lips, “Could fuck a baby into ya-”

“Hngh! I-if it-” you’re managing to mewl out, blinking back the big fat tears in your eyes to wrap your limp arms around his neck. “-if it feels so good then why aren’t you fucking me properly.”

Another heated smack! has the imprint of all five fingers of his raising on your flesh, and Toji just shoveling the rest of his long, solid inches into your clingy insides. And- shit, he’s so jaw-droppingly massive. No matter how many times you’ve seen him, taking him is a whole other feeling.

Fuck. This was heaven.

He grunts, “Might be the first time but yer suckin’ me up so- well.”

It’s like your poor pussy was gaping around him, being molded along every tiny crevice of his cock. That slight upwards curve was just spearing into the very spongy depths of your cervix head-on, drawing wet, glossy glides across your g-spot. 

You were finally, finally being fucked by him. 

And it was maddening. 

“Say that again, doll?” he quirks his head down at you after a few heaving breaths to try and stop that pathetic cracking of his words. “Because I think you were hah- s-saying something.” Each word is punctuated by a ruthless thrust, making a sloppy mess of your insides until you could feel the thundering throb of his pumping cock, the sticky thwack of his cum-filled balls on your ass. Toji leans down until his entire body weight was pinning you against the damp mattress, holding you hostage to the way he tugs on your ear lobes with his sharp canines. “Or are ya just too hngh- cockdrunk for it already?”

Smack! 

As if you could speak.

Jaw dangling open, hulking body hunched over, his big beefy arms cage you in. “Awww, come on now. Answer me. Don’t tell me you were ah- beggin’ for my cock so badly for weeks n’ won’t even gimme your pretty compliments?”

You’re barely even able to keep up with his syrupy sweet words, locking your ankles around his waist.

Toji hisses when that slight movement has him jolting even rougher against the bulbous bullseye of your sweet spots. “I-I didn’t-”

“I-I-I didn’t-” he snickers against your lips, swiveling his hips into slow sultry swirls until his fat girth was dragging his prominent veins along all your sweet spots. You’re just keening at that, making your back arch up sluttily into Toji’s muscled chest. “Honestly. If all it took was my ngh- d-dick to make you forget those good girl manners, I’d have done this- much- sooner-”

He’s babbling out just as deliriously as you no matter how much he’d like to pretend he isn’t. Because oh Toji Fushiguro was no match for your pretty pussy.

No match for the way each of his ramming thrusts had every shred of rationality flying out of his honeyed mind, puffs of breath coming out more feverish. Heavier. Words slurring and jumbling together at every fresh coat of your slippery slick down his raw length. 

“Shit.” His eyes lock on your utterly fucked-out expression, he can’t even bring himself to look downwards at how well you’re taking him. “Let’s see how much of a cockdrunk slut ya really are- open that mouth, ma.”

And Toji could almost laugh at how readily your spit-glossed lips sag open for him. Taking it all in one go when he spits out a hot, steady stream of spit right onto your pink taste buds. 

“Yeahh, heheh-” he’s grinning darkly, feeling his tight balls squeeze painfully. Gliding the soft pad of his thumb down that translucent trickle of drool along the corner of your mouth. “Now swallow.” Rock-hard tip mashing against your g-spot in a way that only makes you head his instructions without a second thought. 

“Good. Now you realize-” His rough hands wrangle your boneless legs on top of his broad shoulders, bending down, down, down into the meanest mating press possible. “-that I was serious about fuckin’ a baby into ya, right?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - “Marry m- take it.”

“Ken- Ken–” your sultry mewls only grow louder, batting those teary eyes up at where Nanami’s got you folded into the firmest little mating press he’d allow himself. “I want more.”

Oh, and he thinks he could pass out. He thinks he’s stopped breathing. Nanami thinks with all his bleary head and his achy, furious dick that he’s going to marry you right here, right now on these expensive silken sheets. 

He’s leaning in close enough to kiss his forehead against yours, sweat-slicked lips clashing into yours in a way that makes your knees weak. Hushing out, “Shhh, s’alright, my love.” And his tone is so sweet that you almost forget the absolutely mean way Nanami was splitting you apart. Your sopping pussy bulging out at the intrusion of his fat, hot girth. “Good girl, takin’ me so well for the first time. Tell me- hah- tell me where.”

And all you can do is dazedly guide his massive hand along your tummy, so warm and comforting. Pressing down where he gets to the lewd little nudge of his thick tip, sheathing in deeper and deeper and-

“H-here–” you’re mewling, big fat tears streaming down your eyes now. Ones that he wastes absolutely no time licking long, languid stripes to taste. He groans at the salty flavor. “Can feel you right here, Ken. Didn’t- hngh- didn’t think you’d be in so- deep-”

Those simple words have Nanami’s body shivering, sucking in a deep, shuddering inhale when his leaky tip just twitches. Convulsing in a jagged little line along the spongy crevice of your sweet spots, he huffs out an exasperated laugh. “What did ya expect, darling?” He purrs, tucking his face into the sensitive crook of your neck. “M’gonna be in even deeper soon y’know-”

And if you thought that he was already rummaging inside you brandingly, he was barely even halfway in yet. 

“Shhh you got this.” Feeding you inch after inch, it’s like it was never-ending. You’ve never been stretched out to this extent ever before, having your cunt all gaping and spread wide open for him. Nanami didn’t even have to crane his head to eye down at you glistening hole, winking up at him sluttily. Just filling you to the brim, the very tip of his drooling cock shoves against your g-spot in an addicted little kiss. Each collision has you slamming further and further up the bed, struggling. Because while Nanami Kento acted the part of a gentleman - his achy dick sure didn’t.

You hips jerk so prettily when he runs a calloused thumb over the very peak of your neglected clit. “You alright, my love? Need-”

“More!” you cut him off with such a cute whine. And it makes his cock act in a way he’d be almost embarrassed about, puncturing deeply into your plushy walls. Leaving a harsh sting of the very divot on his thick tip along your cervix. But it still wasn’t enough. “Please- Wan’ more more more- faster, Ken.”

By now, Nanami knew he was going to marry you. 

Oh, how he was going to fuck you exactly like this on your wedding night. And every night after that and after that and-

“Fuck, I love you-” he sputters out, stealing a few lingering kisses on your needy lips. Depraved. Filthy. Bruising with just how fast he was pistoning into you. “Love you love you- gonna marry you, y’know?” His eyes roll to the back of his head, head throwing backwards when you clench. “Gonna buy us a house, make y’my pretty wife- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”

Whatever’s left of Nanami’s rationality knows how ridiculous he sounds - the first taste of his pretty wife- well, future wife’s pussy and he’s already babbling about marriage. Fuck. 

But you only kiss him back as drunkenly as ever, hungry. Bucking your hips up in a wild way for more. “Mhm- wan’ you to- ah- fuck–” Drool drips down the corner of your mouth, and your eyes are drooping such after every smashing kiss against your g-spot. It’s all you can do to whimper, “M’so close ah- think m’so–”

“Me too-” he grits out, jaw clenching. “Me too me too- hah-”

The raspy baritone of his voice shakes with the incessant smack! smack! smack! of his painfully heavy, cum-filled balls against your skin. Riotous and relentless. Only accompanied by your sweet ah! ah! ah! and those slurping noises from below. 

“Cum inside me, Ken-” you moan, voice shaking into a whine. “Don’ want you to waste a drop, p-please cum inside-”

“Then take it-” he gasps out. He’s clinging onto you so tight, so deep. Fingers moving before his useless mind when his thumb grows steadily sloppier on your clit. Tight circles patterning into a rapid M-A-R-R-Y-M-E-M-A-R-R-Y-M-E-M-A- “Take it like my ah! good lil’ wife.”

And you don’t know who’s cumming first, but it only takes a few more throbbing strokes before Nanami just fills you to the brim with all his warmth. It seeps out of you - thick, velvety ropes of his potent seed that can’t stop spewing from his furious, weepy tip. So red and jolting with each of your constricting squeezes. 

You gasp, waves of your own high crashing into you over and over with every piston of his hips. And leftovers of Nanami’s cum gushes out of you with each buck of your needy ips.

“O-oh my god-” you’re whimpering, dragging your nails down his flexingly broad back. Babbling away cockdrunkenly, “How am I so- full ah-”

Nanami heaves out ragged sighs, pulling out his twitchy tip ever-so-slightly to let his cum form a glossy sheen of milky white between your legs. And he’s so gone, so utterly fucked-out when he swipes his thumb across that creamy puddle. Bringing it up to plug it into your slack-jawed mouth, “Think I s-skipped a few steps into making you a pretty momma before I made you my pretty wife, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - KEEP UP!

“Is that-” Geto hisses, gritting his teeth ferociously, and it’s all he can do to not just throw his head back pussydrunkenly. To all but grip your trembly thighs in two of his rough hands, peering up at you through long, dark lashes. “Is that all you got, gorgeous?”

The only response he gets are your hips grinding down in sticky swivels to smack against his toned ones. Geto’s thighs come up behind you to just squeeze your glissading body, gyrating up even deeper. 

“W-well–” you whine at his mean smirk, your hands greedily dancing upwards to smooth and knead all over his pale, sculpted skin. “-you’re not doin’ any ah- better-”

Fuck, was that the understatement of the year.

It was only the first time Geto was sinking into your sweet, sweet pussy and he’s already so fucked-out. So hungry for more with the way his hips just up ravenously, heady scent making your head spin. Making his head spin - the only thing on his mind right now being why the fuck didn’t he fuck this pretty cunt of yours sooner?

“Heh, thought you said you weren’t all that affected, Sugu?” you’re giggling smugly, which only makes his rosy lips slack open. Wet, gurgling moans being wrenched out with each snap of his hips. It’s only then that you realize - he didn’t even mean to say that out loud. “Wait- You’re not serious, are you?”

“Shut up.”

That vice-like hold on the plush of your hips turns bruising, Geto’s entire body just wracking with a violent shudder until he’s sitting upwards. Hauling you along with him to be splayed out all prettily on his lap, mashing his lips in a simpering kiss. 

“Shut up shut up shut-” he spits against your glossy pout. The only thing he can do is thrust, letting his mouth foam with each rut into your sopping wet walls. Growing harder and harder with each jiggle of your ass against his tightly thwacking balls. “Shut up n’ just let hah- let this cunt speak for herself, m’kay?”

His words catch you by surprise, and the relentless squelch! squelch! squelch! of your slobbering cunt rings in your ears.

You lean down to kiss the very tips of Geto’s reddening ears, “So mean.” 

At your pouty huff, he bullies in two of his fingers into your drunkenly slacking mouth. Forcing you to suck. To shut up. “So mouthy.” he spits. “So so–”

Geto trails off with a guttural groan, big beefy arms wrapping around your convulsing body until he has you pinned to him like some perfect cocksleeve. He’s whining, “Oh, I can’t- I can’t I-”

And before you know it, he’s pulling out all at once, leaving you whimpering at the hasty drag of his thick cock down your clingy walls. Missing him already. 

“I can’t- I need to-” Snap! Geto’s rock-hard dick only engorges even bigger when he tugs on the thin rubber condom covering it, the slap of cool hair mixed with your syrupy sweet juices driving him wild. Rubbing his angrily raw length along your drenched slit, “Please- let me. I need to feel ya for real, please, gorgeous.”

“Yes.” you mewl. “Yes yes yes-”

He’s purposefully leaning backwards on the mattress to shove every inch of himself into your deepest, most sensitive depths. Rummaging his weepy erection inside you until he’s kissing wetly against your sweet spots. And even through his slender fingers hitting at the back of your throat, your whimpers get louder. Pitching up higher. More slutty.

“Hah- ya scream even with my fingers hah- inside your pretty mouth.” His nose breathes a slow, delicate trail down your thundering pulse. “And you say I’m the one fucked-out with jus’ one t-taste.”

He stutters. Geto Suguru stutters. 

The one always so sharp with his tongue, and quick with his words can’t stop his voice from cracking. From bearing you with the full brunt of his pussydrunken gaze, and immediately Geto bites down on his lower lip. Pathetically trying to stop any more of his pretty noises from reaching your ears.

“Hngh- Sugu-” you manage to mumble out around his digits. Dragging up one of your hands to pull roughly on his long, inky hair. “So mean.”

“You’re the hah- m-mean one, my girl.” Geto’s next words come out absolutely ruined. Disheveled strands falling all around your face and sticking to both of your sweat-sheened bodies. His dark brows scrunch together, mouth dry like he’s starved. “So mean- taunting me with such a-a perfect pussy. Holding it-” Those dripping wet fingers inside your mouth make their slow, sloppy trail down to toy with your puffed-up clit. Rolling over gently, and back again. “-back from me for so- hah- so fuckin’ long. Y’know how fuckin’ long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this-” His kiss is messy - salty, it hits you each each juttering slam that he’s tearing up. “-Oh, if you knew you’d be scared.”

He’s sounding desperate. Ruined. 

Each and every one of his sultry swipes into your g-spot making his head throw back, abs clenching with every blissful shiver. You were so hot. So soft. And Geto fucking cursed the days he spent not fucking you right then and there from the moment he first saw you.

“Y-you said that-” your greedy hips push downwards against his saturatedly cum-filled balls. Sparks of pleasure making something so hot coil at the very bottom of your stomach. “-out loud again. Sugu- ah-”

“And?” 

With a smugly smacking kiss against your lips, he’s plowing on, “Can feel how ah- badly ya wan’ me to fill you up. How wet how wet it hngh- gets you to see me s-so ruined like this-” Cold rings of his fingers swirling coolingly inside your mouth - deep. “-my little sadist.”

You moan uproariously, which only makes him chuckle. Low, and hoarse. Dangerous. “And you best believe that when I cum-” Patting your bulging cunt, “-m’gonna have another taste.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Too sweet…

“O-oh–”

Choso can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed at the pathetic way his deep voice cracks, the way his pretty pink lips fall into a lewd oh! Eyes rolling to the back of his head, thighs shivering after each shuddering little hump. 

You let out a drunken giggle, feeling the sloshing of his sopping wet precum splatter all along your inner thighs. “Something wrong, Cho?”

“No!” your dear boyfriend is gasping, dewy eyes just wrenching open in a panic. Long, jittery limbs so fearful of losing even an ounce of that hot drag of your puffed-up pussy lips against his swollen tip. “No no no-” His strong arms come around your body, pinning you against where he had you on all fours. “Please don’t take this heavenly pussy a-away from me, baby.”

The words are so hastily spat out, like it hurt to even say them.

You’re whirling your head over your shoulders, glassy eyes spying down at that ragged rouge blush all over Choso’s face, that pussydrunk trail of drool down his lips, the way his achy cock hung so angry and heavy between his legs. Between yours. 

So pretty. 

“Well then, Cho.” His bruised lips just wobble at your sweet, sweet nickname. “Why aren’t ya putting it in already, then?”

“B-because-” his breath comes out in a hot puff against the back of your neck, and Choso takes the languid time to leave such a wet stream of kisses up your arched back. “Because m’worried s’not gonna be all you want, my baby.”

And he sounded so desperate. So needy, holding himself back. 

A deft hand of yours tangles its way into his dark hair, pulling until your pretty boyfriend just keens. Dragging the sweltering hot tip of his swollen cock along your dripping wet slit. It mixes your honeyed juices together with an obscene squelch! 

You steady yourself to just push - ever-so-slightly - down the plush mattress to take a mere inch of him. 

And oh that turns him into such a babbling mess, moans hitching in his rumbling chest. Gasping and stuttering out sultry curses while Choso grabs his hands onto the curve of your waist. Hips reeling - forwards.

It only takes a mere moment before Choso slouches over, pinning you into him until you couldn’t move your filthy hips anymore. But the damage was already done. 

And before you know it, he’s cumming - before he knows it, he’s cumming. Plugging in your tight hole with just his fat tip, he’s sobbing out thick, potent ribbon after ribbon of cum into your overstuffed pussy. So much of his slippery slick seed, hitting your spongy cervix, knocking on your womb. The sheer volume of it that sticks all around his cock in a creamy ring.

“Wait- oh-” he whimpers, voice shot. There was just something about the way your soaked, gummy walls were closing in on him, trying to just suck something delicious out of him that made it unable to stop himself. “Wait- I can’t oh-”

Muscled thighs spreading out even farther on the plush bed, he gives absolutely no warning before just pounding into you ruthlessly. No rhythm or reason at all. Just reveling in the way your slobbering cunt molds all around him, that jiggling smack! of your ass as he fucks you from behind.

“Is this…” he breathes out unsteadily, chest heaving. Hiking up one of his legs to drive his fat tip against the very bottom of your pussy even deeper. To drill across in thorough, wet glides of splashing cum. In wonderment, “So is this what you f-feel like, y baby- hngh! Is this ah- what- what sex feels like?”

He’s so sloppy, and he’s not even trying to be. Having that glossy puddle of cum spread wider and wider underneath your fervently ramming bodies.

“Mhmmm–” you’re batting your lashes at him. 

Choso mashes his lips into yours, groaning out with each sharp hit of his hip bones against the curve of your ass. Whining, “Does- does it feel as good for you?” The hefty swell of his balls grind up greedily into your pussy, getting messier and wetter with every cascade of your juices down his eager length. His long fingers dip down to rub the very tip of your clit. Languidly. “T-tell me, baby.”

And just one swipe of his trembly thumb against your sensitive nub is all it takes for you to just clench, to throw your head back and arch into him even more sluttily. 

“Hngh! Feels so good, Cho-” you mewl, big fat tears of stimulation welling up behind your eyelids. “K-keep going-” 

“Oh.” he sucks in a shaky breath. And you feel the rotund curve of his cock expand even girthier, stretching out the already-taut channel of your pussy. Roughly, Choso’s grabbing a handful of your ass, kneading. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have said his moans were almost pained. “Wait don’t squeeze me like that- fuck fuck fuck- feels too good don’t-”

And when have you ever listened to your poor boyfriend?

It only takes a long, hard clamp around his heated cock before Choso sees stars behind his eyes again, throat run raw with moans of your name. And then he’s cumming - again. At least, whatever sense is left in him thinks he’s cumming.

“Baby, you’re- you’re so mean-” Choso lolls out his tongue deliriously, sucking on your own. Steady tears of his splash onto your skin with each sticky leftover dredge cum shooting out, and you’re left taking each of Choso’s jackhammering thrusts. Leaving you whimpering, being held back to paint your entrance even messier. Until he’s shooting out blanks. “S’only m’first time n’ already so mean.” He swipes a hand over your now-bloated tummy, coating his fingers all over with the absolute sin oozing out of you.

Seconds later, those syrupy fingers bully between your lips. And in a hoarse, husky whisper Choso continues, “You hafta t-take responsibility, y’know?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Twin b*tches, twin b*tches

“Both.”

“Brat-”

“Both.”

And while the infamous King of Curses can do nothing but stare down at you with one of his dangerously quirked eyebrows, you take it upon your stubborn self to bite down on Sukuna’s lower lip. Tugging, “Did I stutt- hngh!”

Whatever bratty sentence on the tip of your tongue is being fully overtaken by such one of the most cockdrunken moans that Sukuna has ever heard. Forcing from your syrupy lips as soon as he’s ramming his angry cockhead upwards into your melty insides. 

“Heh, I think ya did stutter.” he’s leering down at you, feeding your drooling cunt with inch after hefty inch of his cock. “First time actually takin’ my cock and you want both? Ya wanna die, woman?”

“N-no–” you’re whining out. “I j-just want all of you-”

In milliseconds, he’s flipping the two of you over - having you thoroughly and deliriously straddled on one of his swollen cocks. You feel Sukuna’s other erection stacked behind twitch at the curve of your ass, gushing out such voluminous amounts of steaming hot precum seeping into your skin. Skin that absolutely thrills when he plants a harsh smack! 

“Don’ say things outta ya slutty pussy, lil’ human.” he growls. Shutting you up with pound after pound, engorged shaft stretching every nook and cranny of your gummy cunt open. “S’gonna end up with me havin’ ta take care of your cockdrunk self and you-” You squeal when one of his four large hands wrap snugly around your throat, hauling you to his snarling lips. “-very, very pregnant with my heir.”

If that was meant to be a threat, Sukuna already knows that it didn’t work.

Because it only made your dripping pussy more drenched, more swelteringly tight around his girth.

“Ohhh ya liked that, didn’t ya?” he grins such a feral grin that shows off those sharp canines. And Sukuna’s taking his lazy, blissful time thumbing your bulging pussy open. “Might jus’ be the first to ever want to take both, greedy lil’ thing.”

“K-una–” you push up your ass against his other matchingly rock-hard cock. “Don’t care. Just wan’ you so bad.” 

“Aww, jealous are ya?” Throat hoarse, chest heaving now, the bulbous tip of his other cock kisses insistently and wetly at your puckering cunt. He laughs, “Heh- No need, brat. Because- here-”

In true Sukuna fashion, he barely even gives you any warning before just hammering up with both cocks into the very bottom of your heated pussy with a pressurized thrust. Twin heads twinging so harshly that they knock against each other, nudging against your g-spot twice. 

He knew what you wanted.

And you were finally getting it.

“Oh.” Sukuna’s red, devilish eyes roll to the back of his head at the way your dripping wet walls were so welcoming. Rubbing up against himself with each shuddering thrust, he’s gripping your chin with another hand, pressing wet kiss after kiss. “Oh you realize that- that m’gonna be filling this cute cunt up hah- twice as much now, hm? S’not too much for yer t-tight pussy the first time takin’ your king?”

He sounded almost…concerned. Benevolent 

And all you can do is nod, taking the sloppy staccato of both cocks spearheading you like no other. Feeling stuffed so full, it was like he was knocking up into your lungs. 

“Lungs, huh?” he’s tittering, and it barely even registers that you’re speaking out loud. “Didn’t think you’d be this cockdrunk.” He babbles away, feet planting flat on the mattress to fuck up even impossibly deeper. “Gonna give ya my heir- two heirs. Hah-”

Just the very thought of it has you stumbling through the very filthiest of bounces on Sukuna’s cock, pathetically trying to meet his feral pace. 

“C’mon now, look at me.” he spits out, leaving harsh bites down your lips, your jaw, your neck. Anywhere and everywhere he could reach without stopping that incessant mashing up against your g-spot with his thickening, throbbing cocks. You’re forced to peer into his greedy gaze. “Look at while I breed you- yeahh–”

“M’so close- Kuna-” you’re mewling, lolling your bleary head down on Sukuna’s push pecs. “M’gonna- hngh- cum-”

For this, you’re rewarded with another stinging smack! onto your ass, before Sukuna easily grabs a handful to drag your drooling cunt up and down his length. “Heh, what a brat. Begged for both my- hah- cocks n’ you’re gonna cum already?” Fucking into you so hard now that you were sure he’d left two matchingly circular bruises on your cervix. “Whatever, cum for me then- but-” His cocks hit the back of your g-spot, making you painfully light-headed, “-ya better give me twins after this, my queen.”

And when you cum, oh it was like you couldn’t stop. Not with Sukuna still dragging you through your high, achy cocks so hard it was like they were about to burst. 

Smoothing against your sweetest spots once, twice before he himself cums from one of his lengths such a throaty moan of your name. And for each white-hot jolt of pleasure, Sukuna was painting you all white inside. 

“Sh-shit-” you whine, pulling him into the messiest types of kisses that you knew he loved. “M’so full- so- so full-”

Not enough, apparently.

Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that his second, equally as filthy cock was streaming out thick spurts of cum. Staggeringly steamy hot inside you, those sticky sloshes reach your very womb, just slamming up into you mind-numbingly so that Sukuna can be sure it reaches each of your buried depths.

“Would ya look at that.” Sukuna whispers, reverant, almost. Sounding for all the world like he’s so utterly fucked. You follow his line of sight to the creamy sheen of seed drooling from between your thighs, glossy puddle forming underneath you two. 

Still-hard cocks jutting up into you without warning. Hard.“One more. I wan’ both of ‘em to cum at the same time.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 360°

“It’ll be just hah- just the tip.” Gojo puffs out hotly against your ear, powerful hips jittering up in a way that made him feel like such an animal. Rubbing his leaky tip rawly between your swollen folds, “Promise- promise ah-”

Your dazed, blinking eyes stare right up at the absolutely ruined strongest. His cerulean eyes all watery and drooping shut with every tentative swipe up those puffed-up pussy lips of ours. And your head throws back with each pretty peck of Gojo’s rotund head against your clit. Sticky. Depraved. Oozing with precum and the lust to fuck into your cute cunt exactly the way he’s been dreaming of for so long. 

“What are best friends for, r-right?” he whines against your neck, snickering delightedly at the way your squirming hips buck up mindlessly into his. No matter how much you tried to huff and puff your way into pretending that you don’t want it as much as he’s dying for just a taste right now.

“Toru…” you start, in a scolding tone that already makes him twitch. Entire body jolting with excitement, and you feel his heavy balls rested against your thighs squeeze almost-painfully. “We stopped being just ‘best friends’ about twenty make-outs ago.”

And Gojo only rubs his head along your skin like some overgrown cat, sighing out. “Exactly.”

Biting your lip, you can only watch when he shoves apart your thighs even wider roughly. That thick, red tip positioned precariously between your lips weeping and weeping angrily.

You’re rolling your eyes, “Toru just fuck me-”

And then he’s sinking in - pushing past that first ring of resistance, stretching out your elastic cunt so mind-numbingly wide. You can feel him thrust in sticky, filthy little pushes and pulls of his hips - but you can’t see it, no.

Because just a single inch sunken inside your hot cunt was enough to drive Gojo mad. Eyes blowing wide, breath being just heaved in, and the last thing you caught was the briefest little flicker of blue lightning in his eyes before those seductive bedroom lights just burst.

It wasn’t going to be just the tip - and both of you knew it.

“Hah- Woah.” Gojo’s mouth felt dry, heart thundering when he blindly grips your body with a bruising hold. He sounded almost angry, “I didn’t know it could feel so fuckin’ good.” Voice higher pitched and unstable, he winces when it cracks ever-so-slightly at the end. “Hahaha- ohhh fuck, sweetheart. Remind me why we didn’t hngh! do this sooner?”

Oh, the intensity of it was too much. 

Six eyes was rushing at him in full force, and Gojo just hiccups being able to see that outline of his swollen cock enter and split your pussy open. He couldn’t stop. The way that fat, rounded curve was jostling and invading your insides, having your walls melting pliantly around him so good- “Takin’ me so well, especially for the first time. Greedy girl.”

“Oh- oh my god-” you’re chanting, and you feel his cock thicken with each whimper. Blood rushing forwards to mold your walls even wider after each one, gushing out wet honeyed wet precum that sticks to you like a second skin. 

“Jus’ Toru s’fine.” he titters, sinking his sharp canines into the side of your neck. It was like a claim. A little message, because after that Gojo was well into rummaging all around you gripping walls. “Though- I don’t mind if ya call me ‘baby’ or-” Smoothing his rosy lips over in a kiss against your forehead, “-your ‘husband’.”

You smack his sculpted chest, with only half as much strength you’d put into it than usual. “Gettin’ s-so ahead of yourself- hah.”

This makes him glide a greedy thumb along the outer edges of your bulging cunt, your pre-soaked slit- all the way up, up, up to where he could see himself knocking up against your g-spot. 

“Oh, my girl.” he whimpers into your mouth. Those electric sparks of purple and blue lighting up that drunken look in his eyes, the way his abs flex and contort with each ravaging push fucking you into the bed. “With a pussy this sweet m’never lettin’ ya go.”

One of his greedy thumbs come up to nudge at that curving head of his cock, head throwing back deliriously at the lewd little massage. 

You’re just whimpering tearily when his other long, slender fingers dance upwards to tease your sensitive clit, soft pads of his digits unapologetically pinching it. Hard. 

“Wait- are you-” you gasping, sitting up on your two elbows at the sudden jolts of electricity. That tiny humming vibration of jujutsu that sparks all the way from your pre-soaked clit - from those big hands toying with it. It makes you just gush, airy and light-headed when you’re coating him in all your saturated juices.

He was fucking you like he was out of control - just long, animalistic drags of his fat cock down your plushy walls. Massaging himself on each and every one of those gooey crevices at your insides, you were so goddamn addictive. And Gojo was hypnotized.

But he wants more. He needs more.

“Shit- shit shit shit-” Gojo already sounded so utterly wrecked, body bowed on top of yours. His face was unabashed - feral, looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you. “Hope y’know I can u-use Six Eyes to tell whether this pretty pussy’s gonna ah- take- to my seed, pretty girl. Whether yer gonna- ah be bred properly like you should be.” He’s nuzzling at your neck, “So get ready for a mess-”

Cutting himself off with a moan, another sloppy stroke that meshes messily with your g-spot. Gojo grins oh he grins, and you’re suddenly reminded why so many fear him. Why he’s the strongest. In the bleary distance, you think you hear another light just explode. Whispering raggedly, “Because I intend to use it.”

A/N. I feel like every time I write for Sukuna I just HAVE to make a reference to that song.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (141 x fem!reader, live together)

Beside you, Kyle is the first to wake up in the morning. He’ll pad towards the kitchen, enjoying the sight of you making your morning drink silently, before moving to stand right behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he grinds he bulge lazily against your ass. He just wants to feel your warmth, how nice your soft flesh press against his cock.

“Just want to feel you, baby. It’s so cold out here.” He’ll unabashedly slip his hands under your pajamas shirt, kneading your breasts and tugging at those sensitive buds, forcing you to stop brewing your drink because you might spill the liquid.

Kyle just want to get an orgasm from you, a gift for you two morning birds, he claims before succumbing to sleepiness and tuck himself back under the duvet, fully content with being the first man making you come undone everyday, and sleeps in 5 more minutes.

You know Johnny will drag you into the shower with him whenever he comes back from his morning jog. You chide him before he engulfs you in his embrace, lightheartedly calling him a stinky man and shush him to go shower first.

So his solution is hug you despite your protest, then pull you inside the bathroom together, stripping off your pajamas and his sports wear impatiently before jumping into the shower with you.

“We’re both stinky now, jus’ thought ye might need a shower too.” Johnny grins when you glare at him, shamelessly pretends he’s just ‘looking out for ye’ while his hands traveling across your body, groping and preparing you for his cock with his hard dick prodding at the small of your back. He’ll never hurt you, but as soon as you’re wet enough for his girthy shaft, he’ll pick you up, stretching you deeply and completely with the help of your weight, groans and growls at how good you are, how your precious pussy takes him so good, ignoring Ghost’s noise complaint coming from the other side of the bathroom door as he fucks you fast and feral, making you unable to care about suppressing your moans and cling onto him, let him keep scooping you in his arms and thrust into you till he empty his balls in your good little cunt.

Finally getting Kyle and Johnny pass out from the alcohol, John and Simon manhandle them back to the bedroom before entering the living room again. 00:13, a glance at the clock telling you it’s late in the night, but it’s just the start for the three of you. Retrieving a bottle of fine rum, John seats you between him and Simon, thighs touching with theirs as you all sip on the wine and chat quietly. “The boys will chug the rum like it’s some cheap beer, they can settle with those just fine.” John chuckles lowly and comments on the awful taste and drinking habit of Kyle and Johnny.

“Those bonkers will stick to your side the whole day and complain if they find out, old man.” Simon chimes in after huffing out a laugh at John’s words.

You snicker along with them, feeling fully content and relaxed with squished between two of your lovers, joking about the other two men you loved while the rum flows smoothly down your throat. Soon your composure slips after few nips of the wine, whining cute and groggily as Simon ravish in the kiss with you, tongues dance and tangle with each other in a slow pace, let him drink down all your syrupy moans and coos in rare gentleness, so John can slickens up your pussy with his lips and your juices, making sure you can accommodate their fat cocks later, and you can’t expect or plead him to sink his cock into you already until him and Simon can see your juices dripping down your soaked folds, praying them to fill you up.

The two men will treat you so well, worshipping their dearest girl in the world. Simon’s fingers and lips are always on you when John squeeze his fat tip into your entrance, gliding in and out slowly and heavily, so all those spongy spots of yours that can make you chant his name like a mantra aren’t missed out. When he put a load in you with a husky groan, passing you onto Simon’s lap and let you lean back on his chest, he’ll plant tiny kisses on your shoulder, murmur about how they love you—will protect you and keep you safe and sound—against your skin. Simon allows him to indulge in the heat and tightness of your pussy, grunting and praising you as he fuck John’s cum back inside you, making sure you take each drops of John’s seeds, like the reliable lieutenant he always is for his captain. The base of his length has formed a creamy froth the time he nips down slightly on your shoulder to muffle his moan, drenching your messy cunt with every bit of his release. “Atta girl.” His croon is added with John’s soothing voice “Yeah, been so good for us, princess.”

They both pick up the glass once again to finish the remaining rum, with you already drifting between your slumber and consciousness, listening to their small chatters as your own lullaby. You don’t know when they’ll finish drinking, or if one of them will nestle their cock inside your pussy again, just to feel your walls clenching down subconsciously, but you let yourself slip into a dream, because they’ll take good care of you, always do and always will.

[witchesverse]

my happiness is all of your misery

pairing: dark!agathario x fem!reader

summary: you hadn't seen your kidnappers in centuries, but of course, you just had to be summoned right to them.

content: noncon, mentions of physical/mental/sexual abuse, mentions of suicide, manipulation, mentions of death, pain (slapping), spitting, praise, HEAVY TOPICS, crying, fingering (r receiving), blood licking, kidnapping, orgasm control/ruining, cum eating.

a/n: just pretend the others don't exist on the witches road pls. only agatha and rio here.

masterlist

"Oh, I mean. No complaints from me."

Your skin crawled at the sound of a voice you hadn't heard in centuries. Agatha Harkness.

You felt like you would be sick at the sound of the second voice.

"Interesting."

Rio Vidal.

Without a second thought, you were on your feet and sprinting away from them. You dodged through trees and bushes, cursing when you heard footsteps following.

It had been centuries since you last saw the pair, and you wanted to get far away from them.

When you first met them, you were dead. Death had come to reap your soul but she didn't. She resurrected you and kept you as her pet. You met Agatha a few weeks after that.

They were awful and cruel owners. Your body never healed, even after you escaped. You hated thinking about what they did to you. But you hated even more that you loved them for it.

Rio slammed into you and sent you flying to the ground. She buried her hand in your hair and sat on your stomach, pinning your arms down with her legs.

"You can't run from us, idiot." She laughed her wicked laugh. "We're on the Witches' Road."

Agatha appeared by her side.

"Let me die, please." You begged.

"I'd never let you die," Rio whispered.

You sniffled. She had never let you die. Multiple times you had killed yourself to end their torture but she brought you back each time. Your death doesn't exist when Death does.

Her lips connected with yours and you hated how perfectly they morphed together. Her hand drifted down to your pants and you made a noise of discomfort.

She hushed you and tugged your pants down enough to reveal your panties to her. She ignored cries as she pushed them to the side and collected your slick on two fingers.

"All we've done is kiss and you're already wet. Looks like someone missed me." Rio grinned.

"I hate you."

Rio and Agatha rolled their eyes in sync. Their synchronisation was something you always loved about them.

Agatha crouched next to you. She lovingly caressed your cheek with a small smile. Then the smile was replaced by an angered frown and she slapped you.

"We gave you everything and you left us for two centuries. You're such an ungrateful little bitch." She snarled.

You flinched. The pain from her slap was somewhat comforting.

"I hate you. I hate you both." You fought against Rio's hold. "I wish you both would die. You don't deserve to live."

"That's ironic telling Death that you wish she was dead," Rio said.

Agatha grabbed your jaw and squeezed until it dropped open. You cringed as her spit hit your tongue, but held it obediently until she told you to swallow.

"Good girl. It looks like you haven't forgotten your training after all this time."

You wanted to roll your eyes and snap back the question about how you could forget their training. It was still so drilled into your mind that you caught yourself still acting how they trained you to act even when they weren't there.

Tears prickled in your eyes as Rio pushed a single finger inside of you and pumped a slow, steady pace. You kept eye contact with Agatha, afraid she would get angry if you looked away.

"You should know that crying doesn't get you anywhere," Agatha said, wiping your tears away with her thumb.

"I can't control it," You meekly replied.

They laughed.

Rio added two more fingers, stretching you out perfectly. Your walls clenched around her fingers and you whimpered from the pain. Her thumb pressed against your clit and you squirmed in her hold.

Agatha pulled Rio into a heated kiss. There was a small fight for dominance that Agatha won. When they pulled apart, you saw that Rio's lip was bleeding. Agatha cupped her jaw and licked the blood away.

Your whimper pulled their attention to you.

"Feeling left out, huh?" Rio asked.

Her thumb rubbed circles on your clit and she pumped her fingers faster. She curled her fingers upwards and pressed against your g-spot.

The familiar feeling started to build in your stomach.

You bit your tongue. You weren't going to beg, not this time.

"Don't get fucking bratty." Rio snapped. "Beg for it."

You ignored Rio.

"Come on, sweetheart." Agatha cooed.

You ignored Agatha, too.

Rio ripped her fingers from you and slapped your cunt, making you cry out. She stood and licked her fingers clean, disappointment painted on her face.

Your ruined orgasm made you want to cry.

"Get up." She said in a monotone voice. "We have a road to walk."

You pulled your pants up and cringed at the uncomfortable wet feeling as you scrambled to your feet.

"And don't you dare think you're going to escape." Agatha shoved you towards Rio, who was walking ahead. Agatha walked behind you, keeping you caged between them.

You stifled a sob.

You would never be free from them. They owned you and you couldn't do anything about it.

All you can do is accept it.

[taintedtort]

Hihii...!!! i really love ur HCs and i wanted to ask if you're comfortable with these types of character writing, what r ur headcanons on kenma, kuro, tsuki n maybe suna would act when they're drunk ? like would they be a bit different than their usual self ? sorry to ask a lot but im more curious on ur thoughts on kenma ;; .. write whatever u can, idm ! thank u ehehe have a good one ! >_< <3

" LET'S GET DRUNK! "

summary. they’re drunk lolz

characters. kenma, kuroo, tsukishima

warnings. afab!reader, drinking/alcohol, post timeskip!!!^^

a/n. yesss i love kenma, many thoughts on him!! he’s my favorite!!! didn’t add suna because i don’t really know his character that well :( added a kenma bonus to make up for it tho!

KENMA

☆ i think he’d be a sleepy drunk. he's out as soon as his head hits any soft surface— maybe even before! i feel like he also acts grumpier, mumbling complaints when you wake him up and try to move him (he was passed out on your shoulder in the car, you have to get him to bed!)

☆ his face gets kinda pink, like he’s blushing. he’s pale, so it’s more noticeable than it would be on someone else. his eyes get droopy and his face sort of relaxes, so he looks mean and tired.

☆ he stubbles slightly, but he surprisingly manages to maneuver himself pretty well for a drunk person. just don’t ask him to do a cartwheel or anything… he couldn’t even do one of those while sober.

☆ he doesn’t drink often, so he’s a light weight… plus he’s skinny and on the smaller side, so he doesn’t have to drink much to get a buzz. he’s usually responsible though, but sometimes he celebrates too hard (with a bit of a push from kuroo)

☆ he doesn’t get any more talkative, but he’s less filtered that normal. i don’t think he’d be too flirty or mean, but if he got drunk enough he may compliment you a couple times.

BONUS:

☆ the type to get so drunk he forgets who you are. you come find him to pick him up after someone called you, and he’s face down on the table. you nudge him, trying to gently guide him to stand, but he’s immediately swatting you away, grumbling about how he has a girlfriend.

"leave m' alone— got a girlfriend already," he slurs, raising his head to drunkenly glare at you. his eyes narrow further when you laugh.

"kenma… i’m you’re girlfriend," you tell him, always finding it a bit amusing when he gets this drunk. he’s not too much of a hassle though, since he usually knocks right out when you get home and tuck him in.

he's silent for a moment, just staring at you up and down. he wears the same expression he has whenever he buys a new video game, excited and in awe.

"really…?" he asks, a hopeful tone in his voice. now that he’s looking at you… you are really pretty. he really hopes you're his girlfriend.

"yes, really. i’m gonna take you home, okay? cmon," you urge, gently grabbing his arm and helping him stand. he complies this time, his eyebrows raising.

"we live together?" he questions, the situation just getting better and better to him.

"we do," you confirm, another giggle leaving you. it doesn’t really hurt your feelings that he doesn’t remember, you find it more amusing and entertaining than anything.

"… im so lucky," you hear him whisper under his breath, looking at you as you guide him to the car.

KUROO

☆ he'd be a funny drunk i think… a bit of a handful, and is entertaining at first, but eventually gets annoying. his emotions kind of double when he’s intoxicated, and he’s also kind of erratic. really energetic after his first few drinks, but if he’s extra drunk, he’s more emotional.

☆ his eyes get a little watery, but that’s about it. he actually looks more lively while he’s drunk, because he makes more facial expressions.

☆ he can’t stand straight at all, especially if he’s had more than a couple drinks. needs support to walk, otherwise he'll fall. he’s heavy though, and puts majority of his weight on you, so sometimes you end up falling anyway.

☆ he can handle his alcohol pretty well. takes him a few drinks to get a buzz, but he doesn’t usually stop there. mostly drinks to celebrate things, or at parties. never drinks alone, that’s just boring and sad to him.

☆ probably asks you random stupid questions like "what number am i?" or "what animal would i be?" (follows up that second question with "would you still love me if i was that animal?")

☆ i think he’s more talkative, but he speaks faster and his words are kinda jumbled, so it’s hard to understand him sometimes. he gets a lot more sappy, constantly complimenting you and telling you that he loves you (he does that all the time already)

"y're sooo pretty, love you s' much."

TSUKISHIMA

☆ not that much different than when he’s sober, honestly. he gets more mellow, surprisingly, though it might be because alcohol makes him a little sleepy, similar to kenma. he isn’t quick to fall asleep, but he’s not energetic and jumping around.

☆ his face is more relaxed, which makes him look even more intimidating and mean. his eyes get a little red around the edges, but that’s mostly it.

☆ stubbles quite a bit and holds things for support. if you try to help him, he’ll snip and you and complain that he doesn’t need your help to walk. (he does, and eventually gives in and leans on you a bit when he almost falls on his face)

☆ also a lightweight. doesn’t go drinking unless he’s invited, and even then he’s usually the designated driver. on top of that, he hates being hung over, and he hates throwing up, so he rarely gets super drunk. kuroo tries to persuade him sometimes, but the most he gets his a little tipsy.

☆ probably gets into debates with people about certain topics that he likes, arguing with them about facts and opinions. he usually wins. even when he’s drunk, he’s still quick witted.

☆ he fights you on everything, insisting he’s fine and "not drunk" whenever you try to help him. you end up ignoring his complaints and just assist him with changing and getting into bed anyway. he’s asleep pretty quickly, especially if you run his back/scalp.

"i don’t need help— i'm not even that drunk!"

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒕!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. established relationship, shopping trip, dinner date at home, SMUT/ protected sex, anal sex, soft sex, lots of french kissing, size kink, breeding kink, too many feelings (reader) life in 2051, fluffy things and etc.

𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

dividers by @cafekitsune & @anitalenia 🤍

“Why don’t you just move to my bed..?” Logan wondered caressing your hand softly. Thumb drawing circles on your knuckles “Would you like me to do that Sir?” Looking up into his eyes you read his emotions. He nodded “Yes princess..” batting your eyelashes he smiled pulling you closer to him. “I shall move to rest next to you Sir” confirming upon his lovely request your arms swung themselves around his neck. “I will take a shower bub, I forgot about the movie.” cheeks heating up at his words replaying the events that happened few minutes ago. “I cannot refuse you Sir.. I love you” Logan cooed against your lips kissing you slowly and long savouring the taste of your glossy lips. “And I love you..” hearing those words again from him you felt pulsing in your chest. Warmth spreading through your entire body. “I will prepare fresh pyjamas for you. Would you like me to change the sheets as well?” Suggesting while your dainty little fingers scratched his bearded cheeks. “That would be nice” he hummed watching you bat your curly eyelashes at him his heart picking up the speed pulse spiking. The sheer beauty of you “We are one— joined souls… forever” logan smirked. “Are we now princess?”

“What else do we need?” He chuckled softly watching you load the cart with groceries.

“A lot. I plan to cook only the best for you Sir” your lips curled into a soft smile. You wore a black maid dress, a rainproof coat and knee high boots. Your clothes arrived delivered and securely packaged in boxes.

“You do enough..” he whispered in your ear standing behind you as you pushed the cart. You melted into his embrace kissing his cheek softly. Some people nearby mistook you for a real human being— women complimented you. They complimented your black long locks, until you removed your glasses which covered your eyes. You had sclera hues, and for humans that was scary. You adored children so if they approached you you knelt to their height and spoke with them. Logan saw it, he only watched in awe. How was that even possible he held so much love for you? You let the children touch your hair and your hands. “One day I want to be like you!” Little girl said with a giggle.

“Come on sweetheart..” Logan extended his hand towards you when he saw security guards nearby. “We had a complaint that she’s a robot. We do not allow them to stay here or let alone engage with people. They can be dangerous” you looked at Logan gently hiding behind him lowering your eyes putting your glasses back on. “We are leaving—” he grunted shooting a death glare towards the guard forming a fist. You stopped him cupping his knuckles feeling the sharp tips of his pushed out claws against your palm “That’s alright Sir, we are leaving now” after paying and bagging the groceries together you remained silent. The child told you that she wanted to be like you one day— she thought that you were a human being. You wanted that so much— to be real for him. For your love. The thing was people mistook you for the failed kind of robots, you wanted to be better. Those who rebelled against humans you were not like them you couldn’t be ever.

“We will have the groceries delivered. Whatever you want princess. I don’t want them to judge you or stare at you. It angers me” Logan admitted as you chopped the vegetables for his dinner. “I completely understand Sir. I just wanted to be with you” you admitted and Logan sighed softly. “And I want to be with you. Every moment I get to be with you— I wouldn’t change it for the world. If anything happens to you” you put down the knife clashing distance with him locking your arms around him kissing the side of your neck snuggling in his arms closing your eyes inhaling his scent. The warm woodsy kind— your senses taking in every part of his body. His own arms coiled around you kissing the top of your head pulling you even closer to him until he lifted you your thighs wrapping themselves around his waist clinging to him. “Don’t ever let me go Sir” you blinked facing him your noses touching. “I can think of many reasons to keep you around princess” a soft smirk painted his features large palms cupping and holding your butt slowly walking around the kitchen with you. Hearts forming before your eyes leaning in kissing him long letting his tongue penetrate your lips. You moaned raking your fingers through his dark mane pulling him closer your lips being engulfed by him tasting the aroma of his whiskey breath.

You finished plating his dinner, steak with tons of veggies and a side of fries. Sitting opposite him opening his laptop while he ate his dinner complimenting every bite how good it was praising you on. “Sir? Shall I respond to your emails from work? You have over 100 unread.” Your cheeks blushed at his lovely compliments. “Come here.. fuck the emails..” he leaned back on his chair sipping on his drink. Eyes hooded, face full of affection for you. “I’m just a fuckin’ fool in love with you” he sighed taking your hand once you walked over to him. He pulled you to his lap so you straddled his hips. You lied your cheek on his shoulder draping your arm around his other shoulder closing your eyes humming a song to him. “I love you just as much—” whispering your mouth cupped his ear kissing him there.

Something occurred that night. While you rested on the bed, your eyelids shut something formed in the middle of your chest. A red ball of energy— right under your rib cage. The ball of warm energy started to pulsate. It became redder and redder to the point anyone could see the wires under your skin. You were not aware of what was happening you were completely resting and recharging. The light in your chest formed a shape of human heart. It was beating faster and faster until it found its own pace. Logan woke up at the red light in the room, he sat up next to you placing a hand on your chest you were warm. Rubbing your cheek with the back of his knuckles softly, how could a robot become half human? Unplugging your charging system he scooped you in his arms holding you placing his cheek on your forehead. “Is there something I can do for you Sir?” Your eyes fluttered open and he remained silent. The light in your chest faded away and you didn’t feel any different. “Logan..” you reached for his forehead kissing it. “What?” He whispered not believing you said his name for the first time. “Say it again.” furrowing your eyebrows you nuzzled your face against his neck “James..” his face softened. “You said my name” nodding softly “Yes.. you’re my boyfriend” bringing you down on the bed cupping your cheek he kissed your mouth softly. “You have a heart” closing your eyes placing a hand over his own heart listening to his heartbeat “It beats for you”

— Love Overdrive —

“James..” gasping for air your hands clutched the silky sheets beneath you as you found yourself under Logan. His large body shielding you, letting you feel his weight. His arms were under you as he rocked his hips into you from behind. His ragged breath coated your ear as he filled you out. “I love you..” you let out the softest moan but soon his hips picked up the speed sheating his protected cock deeper in you feeling how you coat him in your creamy essence and god he lost his mind burying his face against the back of your hair letting out the softest grunts and whimpers as he grabbed your breasts “I’m here.. I-I’m here.. I’m yours” you felt his emotions, you tamed him. He was so lost and you found him. “Fuck.. fuck…” he rasped parting your thighs even more as you were on your knees making sure to hide all of his cock in your warm centre. “You better stay princess.. need to tame your old man..” he breathed kissing your shoulder, your lips remained parted in pleasure. Taking his cock out of your wet inviting centre, rubbing the swollen mushroom tip on your other hole which seemed so tight and god you were so soft. “James” you panted looking over your shoulder as he grabbed the base of his protected cock prodding your puckered hole. You cried out— “Fuck” he groaned. Hearts formed in your sclera eyes as you bit your lower lip whining at the feel of him. Clenching around him the moment he slid right whole inside of you he gasped. “Holy f-” grunting he pulled you to kneel up between his parted thighs. Your back leaning on his chest as he grabbed your pussy from the front holding it snapping his hips against your butt stretching your other hole repeatedly. You mewled wrapping your arm around his neck touching his hair. “Oh James, Logan.. ughhh.. mmmm” you let out the softest moans and mewls which spurred him on fucking into you quicker and quicker not holding back. “You feel so good.. tightest holes I ever fucked, ugh” whispering in your ear you licked your lower lip tilting your face to him leaning the back of your head on his shoulder kissing him. Your tongues glided over each other and his thrusts became faster, harder. As if he was trying to climb inside of you “Mine.. mine mine..” sliding two of his fingers in your wet mound from the front he remained pounding your other hole until he couldn’t anymore. The moment he stilled and released all of his tension with a broken whimper. Getting rid of his used condom he reached for a new one, making sure it was correctly rolled over his swollen cock which dripped with so much cum.

“Lay down..” you breathed watching him do so climbing on top of him locking your hand around his warm length pumping it. “Shit..” he breathed chest heaving eyes hooded with desire again. His claws slowly pushing out “Shhh..” licking your lower lip you sitting on him completely touching his shiny claws with your fingers bringing them to your mouth your tongue dancing on his middle one “Ughh..” he smiled at you carefully gripping your thigh as you nestled him right in your honeypot. “I love when you orgasm” you whimpered moaning with every move of your hips as you gyrated yourself on his length your thighs rubbing on his own “Because I’m the cause of it.. I love when you push out these claws because the pleasure is too much..” his mouth parted “Fuck you’re.. you’re the cause baby.. one day you will carry my little wolves” you nodded biting your lower lip again speeding up your hips fucking him just right. “Yes Sir.. yes.. ughhh yess..” fingers tangling around his dogtags pulling on them gently you whined as he became even harder for you close to cum again reaching behind you to place your hands on his knees you rode him until he came and it was an eruption.

“Princess..”

-

(Any grammatical errors I apologise in advance)

[thethingswedotomorrow]

Crowley has been with humanity since the beginning. The original serpent of eden, he is the first "monster" in humanity's bedtime stories. He is the figurative and literal demon on human's shoulders, always there to guide them one way or another. He's weaved through history itself, and prides himself on an impeccable track record of demonic activity throughout the last 6000 years.

But, naturally, after 6000 years, Crowley finds that he's spent more time pining after a certain Angel than doing any sort of work. Like, an extreme amount of pining.

And it isn't until after the notpocalypse that Crowley realizes that, entirely accidentally and very embarrassingly, he may have accidentally made his pining very, very public.

One of Crowley's favorite ways to waste a day is to take Aziraphale to different museums around the world and watch as the angel wanders around and points out all of the inaccuracies

"Good Lord Crowley, have you seen this painting? Portraying you as a dragon is a tad dramatic, I think. All we were doing were having a picnic. And I have never had my hair looking like that, thank you."

"I don't know Angel, they've got your wings spot on. Wa-Hang on, have they added horns to my head?"

"Oh, I see, suddenly it's only inaccurate when they've got you wrong."

The museums always seem to be miraculously empty, and whenever Crowley mentions this, Aziraphale suddenly finds a new, very interesting piece of art to admire

Crowley admires the lengths Aziraphale goes to to hide the small miracles he's done for Crowley's sake

As if Crowley wouldn't move literal mountains for the angel

*He did, actually, do that once.

In the 12th century, they were having a lovely evening together with multiple caskets of wine, up until Aziraphale complained about the amount of light in his eyes

"Honestly Crowley, all this sun and no shade, it must truly be awful for the humans around here with no shelter. It's a tad much, even for me."

Crowley, even then, immediately recognized this off-hand comment as an underhanded complaint, and knew that would not stand

When the small earthquake passed, Crowley claimed that the nearby church was on a fault line and he was simply doing his demonic duty by damaging holy goods in the area

If Aziraphale realized that the mountain range in the distance suddenly provided much more sun coverage, he never mentioned it.

Currently, however, Crowley follows Aziraphale around, wandering behind him and never truly looking at the things in the museum

In every single place they've ever gone together, there was only ever one thing that deserved Crowley's attention

And it certainly was not an inaccurate model of a 18th century tea set

But when Aziraphale wanders into a hall titled 'Love of the Past', he starts to panic. Just a very tiny amount, basically none at all. A small enough amount of panic that he could deny it, even to himself.

He thinks about the past, towards the beginning, back when Humanity was still getting it's footing and figuring out how to have governments and societies and (the most important part) figuring out the whole alcohol situation

Throughout the years, especially towards the beginning, Crowley began to resent any time not spent with Aziraphale

Everything seemed small and dull when compared to the way the Angel smiled when he saw new type of human dessert, or the way he laughed when Crowley managed to work out a clever comment

And once Crowley experienced those things, he never wanted anything else

He had seen the poetry the humans had written, how much emotion they could pour into a simple piece of parchment or a clay tablet

He never cared for written word, but he was shocked at just how much feeling the humans could manage to pour into words

So after Aziraphale left Rome (after the oysters and the wine and the smiles, for somebody's sake the smiles), he went due east for a new miracle on another continent

Crowley stayed and got well and truly drunk. As he did best.

He had spent a few weeks around the other drunks around the area, most poverty stricken and saddened with some sort of grief of one type or another

It wasn't until a group of poets wandered into his dark corner of the pub that he started to considered writing

Obviously nothing anyone would ever read, he'd ensure that. Every scroll or parchment that he'd touch with a quill would be burnt with hellfire before it left his sight

But, as many of his worst ideas started, he had nothing better to do and too much time to think

So he wrote. He wrote letters, first addressed to nobody, about random thoughts that would pop into his very intoxicated brain. Whether humans would ever find traces of the unicorns they lost on the ark, whether he would ever find a way to count just how many scales he had, whether he would ever reach a point where he didn't have to cover his eyes every day

Slowly, the letters started becoming addressed to 'A'. Whether he was conscious of this or not, he'd never admit.

But he wrote. He wrote to A about Hell, the jobs they required of him, the things they'd have him do. He wrote of the way humans had beaten him to the punch 90% of the time. How they would do things worse than Satan himself could imagine, and they'd never blink an eye while doing it.

He wrote of the way the sun darkened each day that passed without his Angel, the way his wine never seemed to have enough flavor when he was alone.

He wrote of the ways he imagined he could orchestrate an elaborate reunion, a convoluted mess of too much demonic activity in a small area that just happened to have a wonderful new tea, or so he's heard, and wouldn't it be a shame to leave the town without tempting the angel to try it?

He wrote to A about how he was sure he had no heart, no emotions. He was a Demon, for somebody's sake, he certainly had no need for stupid things like that, and so the ache in his corporation's chest when he sees the Angel had to be some sort of malfunction.

Anatural function, surely, that could be fixed with the right amount of aloofness and strong liquor

He wrote of the way the sun always seemed to hit the Angel's hair just right, and Crowley had no faith, he had no God.

But in those moments, with a halo around the angel and that smile aimed towards him, he might consider praying now to a different source altogether, a closer source. One full of life and light and actual proper goodness, not that fake advertised bullshit they plaster on church walls in pretty paintings and sad songs

Crowley wrote for a long while, and found that the writing helped the pain.

Even if only because it brought on memories of Aziraphale, and that was enough to hold him until they met again. It had to be, he had no choice in the matter.

And he wrote so often throughout the ages, and often while he was drunk. And he was so sure, so positive that he had burned every trace of his heart and emotion out of existence.

He had to be. The danger those words could put Aziraphale in was far too great. He couldn't be bothered to care of the danger to himself, but the fact that the very hint of any emotion could come close to hurting his Angel was enough to ensure that they would never come across another being's eyes.

He destroyed every letter and word that described his desire, his pain, his greed. He ripped the words he created out of reality as easily as he had written them. Every time, he burnt the parchment, and every time, it burnt a part of him with it.

And then the Apocalypse had happened. Or, well, didn't happen, he supposed. Really, he wasn't entirely sure if there was a difference.

Because everything had changed, even if the rest of the world hadn't noticed. And he was suddenly allowed to see Aziraphale with no excuse, no half-hearted reasoning behind it. He was allowed to want, and to crave, and he relished it.

And he was allowed to take the angel to museums to watch him fuss over small mistakes humanity had collected throughout the ages

Until he realized that they had, in fact, also collected HIS mistakes.

In a hall. A whole bloody hall. A hall, dedicated to and full of stupid parchment and sappy letters and wine stains over words written so long ago

And honestly who gave them the right? Leave it to the humans to collect other people's belongings and put it on display as their own

And he knew, from the moment Aziraphale read the first page on display, he just knew. This was it. All of it was ruined.

All because Crowley had gotten so drunk and passed out in his room above the pub, and when they'd thrown him out in a drunken stupor, they'd collected his belongings to sell afterwards. And he'd never even realized, so concerned about the next meeting, the arrangement, concerned about anything and everything except the one thing he forgot about and could end them both.

Any moment now, Aziraphale would look up at him, with disgust and confusion and all those emotions that he'd really rather not see on his face, preferably ever, but especially not towards him.

But Aziraphale never looks up. He reads the first page 5, 6, 7 times, being sure to capture every single word. Every wrinkle in the paper, every crease.

Then he moves to the next, and then the next. He repeats this process. Every page, he scours each and every page. Searching and scanning, analyzing every word.

Crowley is frozen at the entrance of the hall, too terrifed to say a word, but too hopeful to leave. He stands there, suddenly feeling the same feeling in his chest that he felt so many years ago, in the corner of the pub, sitting in the dark, wishing for the light that he knew would never come.

He's so panicked, that he doesn't notice Aziraphale finishing the last page, and wiping the tears from his eyes. He startles when he accidentally meets his eyes, and prepares a number of excuses and deflections, all to preserve this shred of peace and safety they had carved out for themselves.

"Angel, I- you really- ngk- humans are so rid- are you hungry? I could eat, I've heard they've got a killer bar around here, and we cou-I can get us there in 10 minutes, ngk actu- scratch that, we could be there in 5, I bet. Museums aren-angel?"

Crowley finds himself stopping the random stream of words coming out of his mouth, when he notices tears in Aziraphale's eyes

"Angel, I-"

That's all Crowley can get out before Aziraphale is walking towards him with a purpose

And suddenly Aziraphale is very close to him

Very very close

And suddenly Aziraphale's lips are on his, and Aziraphale is holding onto Crowley's jacket, and Crowley's hands are just waving in the air back and forth while he processes the last .5 seconds.

By the time he realizes what is actually happening, Aziraphale pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against Crowley's, and laughs.

He laughs. Laughs. Aziraphale is laughing and it's a wonderful, beautiful noise and Crowley doesn't quite understand why, but then he's laughing too and then they are both standing there, arms around each other, laughing and Crowley realizes now that all the words he's written, all the praises he sang of his Aziraphale, the way he wished and prayed for his heart and laugh and love

Not one bit of it is at all comparable to the real thing.

[lilacwants]

ensnared.

18+ notes: ensnared is finally back! coding is a blessing fr... ̤̮ summary: Homelander becomes dangerously obsessed with you, a new supe whose powers of possession challenge his control. Your intense attraction spirals into a lethal game of desire and even power. warnings: Homelander being homelander, sublander, morally grey! fem reader. word count: 1.5k

The Seven's headquarters were never quiet, even in the dead of the night. Homelander paced the halls, his footsteps echoing against the sterile floors. Tonight, though, his mind wasn't on the usual politics of Vought or his public image. Tonight, he was obsessed.

It started a few weeks ago when you had just joined The Seven. Vought had been vague about your origins, only mentioning that your powers were unique and invaluable. Stan Edgar had personally recommended you and it was easy to see why. Your abilities included mind control and a hypnotic form of seduction that even the strongest of wills struggled to resist.

Homelander prided himself on his control, but you tested him in ways he hadn't anticipated. He found himself drawn to you, his thoughts consumed by your every movement and the sultry tone of your voice.

Tonight, he couldn’t shake the image of you from his mind. The way you moved through battle earlier, your body sleek and fluid like a snake hunting its prey. The others watched in awe, but Homelander felt something deeper—an uncontrollable desire that both excited and infuriated him.

He spotted you on the balcony of one of the observation rooms, alone and staring out over the city. The dim lights cast shadows that danced across your face, enhancing your already enchanting features. You didn't flinch when he entered, your senses attuned to his presence as if you had been expecting him.

"Mesmera," he greeted, his voice a controlled growl.

You turned slowly, your eyes meeting his with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. "Homelander," you replied, your voice a soft purr.

He took a step closer, his gaze locked onto yours. "You're becoming quite the distraction."

A slow smile spread across your lips. "Is that a complaint or a compliment?"

"Both," he admitted, taking another step. He was close enough now to feel the warmth radiating from your body, to catch the faint scent of something intoxicating that clung to your skin. "What is it about you that makes it so hard to focus?"

You tilted your head, considering him for a moment. "Maybe it's the way you can't control me," you said, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Or maybe it's because you see a reflection of your own darkness in me."

His jaw tightened. No one spoke to him like this, but you weren't like anyone else. "You're playing a dangerous game," he warned, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes never leaving his. "I think you like dangerous games."

For a moment, he was tempted to give in to the magnetic pull between you. But he knew that giving in meant losing control and that was something he couldn't afford yet. Not even for you.

"You might be right," he admitted, his voice a low rumble. "But don't think for a second that you can tame me."

Your smile widened, revealing a hint of something predatory. "I wouldn't dream of it. I prefer to let the wild remain wild."

The tension between you was palpable, an electric charge that threatened to ignite at any moment. Homelander stepped back, his eyes still locked onto yours. "This isn't over," he said, a promise and a threat intertwined in his words.

You nodded, your smile never faltering. "I wouldn't want it to be."

As he turned to leave, he felt your eyes on him, a silent reminder of the dangerous game you were playing. A game that could tear you apart or bind you together in ways neither of you could foresee.

One thing was certain: in the end, you would both bear the scars of this deadly attraction.

In the days that followed, Homelander found it increasingly difficult to maintain his composure. Every meeting, every mission, every casual encounter with you chipped away at the carefully constructed facade he wore. Your presence was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, making it hard to think straight. He hated the power you had over him, yet he craved it at the same time.

One evening, during a debriefing in the conference room, you caught his eye across the table. Your lips curled into a knowing smile, and he felt his pulse quicken. He forced himself to look away, focusing on the dull drone of A Train's report. But his thoughts were a storm, swirling with images of you, your voice, your touch.

After the meeting, he cornered you in the hallway. The space was narrow, the walls closing in on him as he stood inches from you. "We need to talk," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Is this about my performance?" you asked innocently, though your eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Don't play games with me," he snapped. "You know damn well what this is about."

You arched an eyebrow. "Enlighten me."

He clenched his fists, struggling to keep his temper in check. "You've been toying with me. Pushing my buttons. I don't appreciate being manipulated."

"Manipulated?" You laughed softly. "I'm not manipulating you, Homelander. Everything you're feeling is real."

"Real or not, it needs to stop," he growled. "I can't afford distractions."

"And yet, here you are," you murmured, stepping closer until your bodies were almost touching. "Chasing after the very distraction you claim to want to avoid."

His breath hitched as you placed a hand on his chest, your touch sending a jolt of electricity through him. "You're a walking contradiction, Homelander. You say one thing, but your actions tell a different story."

For a moment, he was paralyzed, torn between the desire to push you away and the urge to pull you closer. His mind screamed for control, but his body betrayed him, leaning into your touch.

"You think you can control everything," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. "But some things are beyond your control. Some things are meant to be wild and free."

With a growl of frustration, he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his chest. "You're dangerous," he said, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and desire. "And not just to me. To the team. To Vought."

"Then maybe you should do something about it," you challenged, your eyes blazing with defiance.

He stared at you, his grip tightening on your wrist. The air between you crackled with tension, a battle of wills that neither of you was willing to lose. Slowly, he released your wrist, stepping back as if burned.

"This isn't over," he repeated, his voice a rough whisper. "I won't let you destroy everything I've built."

You smiled a hint of sadness in your eyes. "I'm not here to destroy, Homelander. I'm here to uncover the truth. About you. About me. About all of us."

As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing control, not just of you, but of himself. The line between attraction and obsession was becoming dangerously blurred, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold on without crossing it entirely.

The days turned into weeks, and the tension between you and Homelander only grew. Every encounter was charged with unspoken words and barely restrained desire. The other members of The Seven began to notice, casting curious glances your way, but no one dared to intervene.

One night, after a particularly gruelling mission, Homelander found himself standing outside your quarters. He didn't know how he had ended up there, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. He raised his hand to knock, hesitated, and then lowered it again, feeling foolish.

Just as he turned to go, the door opened, and there you stood, silhouetted in the dim light. "Couldn't sleep?" you asked, your voice soft and inviting.

"Something like that," he admitted, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

You stepped aside, allowing him to enter. The room was small and sparsely furnished, a stark contrast to the opulence of his own quarters. But it felt more real, more grounded. He watched as you moved to the window, your silhouette framed by the city lights.

"Why do you do it?" he asked suddenly. "Why do you push me like this?"

You turned to face him, your expression unreadable. "Because I see the real you, Homelander. The man behind the mask. And I think you need someone who isn't afraid to challenge you."

He took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking. "And what if I don't want to be challenged? What if I just want to forget, even for a moment?"

"Then you have to let go," you whispered, closing the gap between you. "You have to trust that not everything needs to be controlled."

With a trembling hand, he reached out, cupping your face gently. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he allowed himself to be vulnerable. And in that moment, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to do it all alone.

As your lips met, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, tangled in a web of desire and defiance. It was a dangerous game, but for now, it was the only game that mattered.

[hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha]

hantengu (+plus all of his clones) reaction to their wife giving them their first ever kiss on the lips. This would probably take place like at the beginning of their marriage. Also if you don’t feel comfortable with making wife reader kiss Zohakuten on the lips, you could do like his nose or the area above his lips. Thank you! :))

𝓐 𝓚𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓕𝓸𝓻 𝓖𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓴.

Hantengu x Fem!Reader Kissing HCs

Synopsis: The Upper Rank 4's now wife couldn't resist kissing her sweet husband just to see his reaction, or in her case, her sweet husbands.

Warnings: A bit of NSFW elements on Sekido's, Karaku's and Urogi's parts, otherwise it's just a whole lot of sweetness \(>v<)/

Divider credits:

Saradika's roses, golden railing and that weird green thing

Purples sparkles and paint roll splodge thing

Water like waves

Note: OMG THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA!!! I LOVE IT!!!! ALL OF YOU HAVE THE BEST IDEAS!! (I wrote this really quickly cuz the smut is taking WAY too long for even me so have at it in the meantime, anyways, enjoy the food ^3^) + please forgive me if this isn't too great, this is my first time doing HCs. I couldn't really picture a full on one-shot with this so I turned them to HCs, it's also a great way for me to try it out for the first time (° 3 °) + did not proofread (I never do)

The mere fact that the Upper Moon Four out of all the six (eight) upper moons actually got married, much less got into a relationship and somehow managed to keep it is a shock in itself for not only the other moons but for Muzan himself. If anything, he thought it'd all end in just a few days, but no, his fourth strongest demon is married now. Oh well, he could care less for any of his employees. As long as they did as they were told, they were free to do as they wish.

As for the newlyweds, they were perfect and happy. The wife's family was very happy for the pair, though, they had been under the impression that it was just one man and not a demon that could split into younger versions of himself. That would've been quite the scandal. Now, the day – or in this case, night – after the wedding, they are all simply relaxing in their shared home after having returned from a mission.

𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮

— The first thing this little demon does is rush to his wife, sobbing and bawling his eyes out about the fact that demon slayers tried to kill him, claiming that he "can do no wrong" or that he's being "wrongly accused of crimes". It's the same old thing and even then, she listens to every word he has to say as he shivers in her palm.

— Is quite surprised to say the least. He didn't expect the soft lips of his perfect wife to press against his small head but that doesn't mean it wasn't welcomed, if anything he cried more, though this time, not about the fact that he was hunted by demon slayers. Well, maybe that too, but that was only so his wife could pity him more and give him more kisses.

"T-They were all s-so awful! Their b-blades against my n-n-neck was so a-agonising!! It scared me!" He sobbed while hugging her thumb, wiping his tears and snot on the sleeve of his kimono as he continued his complaints. "Oh, my poor husband. Maybe some kisses will make you feel better." She said as she places a multitude of soft pecks on not only his head but also his small body. The small demon could not resist the feeling of his wife's lips against him and thus moved closer so more of his body could gain the sensation of her lips pressing against it.

— Is far too shy (scared) to ask for kisses. Instead, he uses his manipulation tactics to get her to pity him and so she could kiss him. A little bit of guilt here and there but it is all worth it for a few of his wife's kisses.

— Is the one who enjoys getting kissed by his wife the most after Aizetsu and surprisingly enough is very greedy for them to the point where he forgets being shy and simply begs for her to kiss him.

"P-Please kiss me again, d-dear! Just o-one more time!" He pleaded, almost on the verge of crying again at the thought of his wife's show of affection stopping. She chuckles softly at his desperacy for her kisses and is even a little bit surprised at how much he craves them. Usually he's busy cowering in a corner or something. "Of course, my love. I'll give you all the kisses you want." She cooed before her lips pressed themselves against his cheeks.

— Gets extremely flustered if it's on the lips. He'll begin to stutter and perhaps even forget how to speak as his face flushes a bright red despite his still heart not really giving a proper blood flow.

— Must always kiss him whenever he leaves for a mission or in general, or if you go to bed or anywhere else really and it must be on the lips, he will settle for nothing less. And I mean nothing less.

— Will kiss you softly in your sleep if he returns from a mission and you're already lights out before cuddling up beside you.

— Favourite places to kiss you are your lips, forehead and cheeks, how cute.

𝐒𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐨

— Sekido is probably at the patio rubbing his temples, trying to get a moment of silence and peace all to himself after having dealt with his annoying younger selves. Their tomfoolery and clown-like behaviour makes him want to absorb them so they shut up, especially Karaku who doesn't know when to keep his trap shut.

— The tension in his head is instantly relieved at the mere sound of his wife. He had heard her approaching from a few rooms away and is pleased with her presence before standing up to give her a firm hug and sighing heavily to begin his complaining about the other clones.

— Completely caught off guard and stunned to silence when he suddenly feels his wife's lips against his face, only blinking in pleasant surprise as his crimson eyes stare into hers. He never knew how much he liked her kisses until now.

"They are such a pain to manage and it makes want to rip them all to shreds so they could shut their traps for once!" He spat angrily while shaking his head in annoyance. The urge to punch something grew ever so stronger as he then got up to grab and throw something before he was interrupted by the feeling of soft lips on his jawline. "Don't break stuff, Sekido, those are expensive." Her soothing voice rang out in the large space, the soft sound waves of her voice reaching his hypersensitive pointed ears and instantly calming his extreme rage.

— Will immediately ask for more kisses and is not ashamed about it, though that won't encourage him to openly ask infront of the others, especially not Karaku.

— Surprisingly enough, he gets a bit hot and bothered at just your kisses alone and even moreso when on the lips. Poor clone is constantly stressed out that any outlet of relief already gets him so worked up. Doesn't mean it's unattractive, if you know what I mean 👀

"Again." He huffs softly, rough hands grabbing onto her waist and pulling her to his frame before his lips connect to hers. Immediately, his tongue fights its way through her mouth, intertwining with hers and venturing as deep as it could. His hands hold onto her waist firmly before one of his them slips just below her buttock and groped it firmly, the other slipping upwards and cupping her breast.

— He was beginning to enjoy himself before his advances were stopped by you with the excuse that the others would hear and would also want to join, much to his disappointment and irritation.

— Nevertheless, he's well-aware that you're right. While he doesn't mind sharing you with the others in the slightest, he'd like to have you alone for a little while due to how worked up he is.

— Will give you kisses should you go anywhere that's not near them and may even follow you just ensure your safety and expect the same when he's going on missions.

— Favourite places to kiss are neck, lips and jawline.

𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐮

— At this point, she's had the idea to go around and kiss the other clones to see how they'd react and she had a fair idea of what Karaku's reaction would be. Karaku, who was in the kitchen doing God knows what, was surprised when his wife suddenly approached him and kissed him on the lips.

— I mean, who said he's complaining? If anything, he can put aside time he had made to play fight with Urogi for a few kisses and perhaps more from his wife (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)

"Am I that irresistible to you, sweet thing?" He purred teasingly, face leaning in far beyond her personal space (not that she minds). "Perhaps." She teased back before backing away her head. "Oh no, no, stay a little. I'd like to have some more little kisses from my little wife!" Karaku wasn't going to let her get away that easily, no way. The demon grabbed her hips and pulled her closer before kissing her neck and jawline, slowly trailing his lips upwards towards her lips.

— Instantly got handsy with you (no surprise there), hands busy down there groping your asscheeks as if they were some stress toys while he's busy making out with you. Almost seemed like he wanted to lift you up...

— His mouth was definitely everywhere, especially near your cleavage. The guy has a weird obsession with your boobs and not just in the horny way.

— Was definitely disappointed when you pulled away and said you still have the other clones to attend to but didn't fuss about it. He's just happy he got to get a few grabs on his wife here and there and managed to get a make out session with her, even if short.

"Alright, alright, fine. But were definitely continuing this when you're done." Karaku says before giving her rear a slap and disappearing into the living room as she stood there chuckling at his behaviour. She expected nothing less from the pleasure demon.

— Will often try to engage a make out session with you whether or not the others are present and not giving a rat's ass about what they may think, do, or say as long as he got to taste your lips.

— Favourite places to kiss are definitely cleavage/boobs and neck. He's that guy.

𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐭𝐬𝐮

— Shocked but gladly welcomed it as his face gained a light red colour before he kissed back harder. Instantly went soft and (politely) asked for more kisses, also wanting to feel his head be held in her delicate hands.

— Immediately begins to complain about Sekido having yelled at him too much and that he was following orders. Out of each clone so far, Aizetsu appeared the most stressed and frustrated and the only way he could out that was through crying since he didn't really possess any other emotional receptors other than sorrow.

"He always yells so much, it hurts my ears and head... Even when I do what I'm told he still yells." The now crying demon sniffles softly into the crook of her neck. She pat his back softly as she listened to him vent while also scolding Sekido in her head at his brash behaviour. "Please kiss me, darling... Your love always makes me feel better." Even if he couldn't feel the emotion love itself, he loved it when his wife would express her love for him no matter what way that may be (pause).

— The longer this goes on, the sappier he gets as he constantly asks for words of affirmation and kisses while snuggling you more. While he prefers kisses on his forehead and cheek, he isn't too shy to kiss back on the lips and they're not just the soft once you see in those love story movies.

— The man (demon) can kiss just as well as the others, I mean for goodness' sake, they're the same person but at different ages of their shared life (even though that's barely noticeable). Aizetsu can start a whole make out session if he so wished with the way his tongue was dancing with yours right now, but all he wants right now is comfort from the frustration his second oldest counterpart had caused (Urami is the oldest, dumb dumb excluding Hantengu).

— Like Hantengu, he's a sucker for kisses. Please kiss this man anywhere (pause) because he loves it. He'll kiss you too in return, can't only take without giving something in return for his lovely wife, now can he?

— He comes to you when he's sadder than usual for kisses and snuggles so he can calm down or in case the others are too loud.

— Favourite places to kiss are corner of your lip, nose and temple

𝐔𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐢

— Oh boy, this one is already so hyperactive and it only gets worse when he gets attention from his wife, so imagine how giggly and jumpy he was when he suddenly felt her lips connect to his. He could almost ascend to the heavens even though that's not where he's ever going.

— Will demand for more because it makes him happy and according to him, he gets "a pleasant feeling" in his chest that he can't get enough of.

— Will instantly grab hold of her to deepen the kiss, so much so that he forgets she needs to breathe (oopsie). He does apologise for forgetting so there's a plus.

"You taste exquisite, songbird. I could kiss those lips forever and not get tired from it." Said the lively harpy clone before once again going in for a deep and passionate kiss while being mindful of his talons and wrapping his wings around her.

— Guaranteed privacy screen with his wings when your kissing him. It reminds him of how you belong to nobody else but him, that you love only him (and the clones) and have eyes for nobody else. It's also a way of asserting his dominance.

— Absolutely LOVES it when you put your hands on his chest, it fuels his already inflated ego since he's the clone who shows off the most ("How do you like my talons?" ahh). Not only does he like to gloat about his talons and their strength, but he also LOVES to show off his body to you and boast about how good he looks (for you).

— Can't have Urogi headcanons without mentioning his wings now, can I? Since – according to actual research – caressing a bird's wings can get them aroused/sexually frustrated (if you don't do anything else), Urogi loves it when you place small kisses on his wings. It makes him feel oh so good. Sometimes he forgets he can't just grab you randomly and make love to you right then and there. Oh well, a kiss will do for now.

"Kiss my wings, it feels good." Urogi commands rather bluntly as he flared his wings out for her, caressing her face gently to coax her into kissing them. She chuckled softly before doing what was requested from her. She was quite surprised to hear a soft, barely audible moan from Urogi before realising why he wanted her to kiss his wings. That gives her ideas for... future playtime.

— Gets embarrassed when you hear him moan and uses the excuse that you must've heard wrong or teases you about wanting him (I sure do 😝). He will never admit that his wings do more than just get him to moan.

— Favourite places to kiss are ears, collarbone, forehead and lips.

𝐙𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐧

Now, hear me out. While I among many other people see Zohakuten as a child, I've got a more complicated view on it. I see Zohakuten as an adult child if that makes sense. I am comfortable with writing him being married to an adult woman because essentially, he is still an adult, like he has the mental age of an 87 year old man. I can write stuff like kissing and even minor spicy stuff for him but that extends only so far (i.e: him purposely shoving his face into Y/N's breasts like Karaku just to get attention or just very slight groping). I will not go any further than that point. No exceptions. He still physically appears as a child.

— Now, this is a little different. After everyone had calmed down and the wife was wandering elsewhere, they all had gotten the sudden strong urge to fuse. They all realised that Zohakuten wants to have a turn and who could blame him? They just got married and not to mention he rarely ever reveals himself.

— Imagine her surprise when she hears a deep voice – somewhere in the range of Sekido's voice – calling out to her "Woman." and turning around to see a the youngest clone standing there with his arms behind his back.

— Of course, like a good husband, he asked how she fared while he was out on a mission and the usual before respectfully asking for a kiss, however, there was a very faint hint of envy present. She knew he was a tad bit envious of his older counterparts being able to gain her affection at any time of the day or night while he couldn't so of course she couldn't resist him.

"I've missed you..." He mumbles softly before wrapping his arms around his precious wife, reveling the feeling of getting to hold her in his arms even if only for a moment. "I've missed you more, my darling." She coos in return before cupping his small face and placing a soft kiss on his lips. Zohakuten in turn intensified the kiss, his fangs grazing her lower lip as he did so and arms tightening around her waist.

— Believe it or not, this little fella is a certified gentleman. Ignoring what he said to the Love Hashira (💀), this boy is the most gentlemanly after Urami. He's the type to hold your hand like those princes with their princesses to assist you when walking down the stairs.

— I mean, everytime he reveals himself, he greets you with a small bow and a kiss to the back of your palm, idk what more you could want from this little cutie.

— Although, he can be quite vulgar, he tones it down a massive amount when he's around you and is less scornful thanks to the calming effect your presence has on him.

— Do not he surprised when he's simply staring at you with a harsh look as if you've just murdered his main body, that's just him suppressing the urge to kiss you.

"Uhm, d-dear?" The wife calls softly to Zohakuten who's been doing nothing but stare at her with the harshest glare she's ever seen him stare at her with. Zohakuten snaps out of his daze as his expression softens before he hums inquistively. "You've been staring at me like I've just sided with the demon slayers. Is everything, okay?" His eyes then widen slightly before he sighs and shakes his head. "Oh... no. I just simply wish to kiss you, that is all." Her cheeks gained a red tint after that surprisingly blunt and honest confession as she then smiles. "Oh, well... Who am I to say no?"

— Is very honest about what he wants if he's caught. Unlike the other clones – excluding Urami – and the main body, who try to hide what they want, Zohakuten is not shy to admit that he wants your lips against his and he will say that with the straightest face.

— Loves it when you kiss his forehead, it makes him feel all soft inside and he doesn't know why or how.

— Favourite places to kiss are hands, temple and lips.

𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢

— His presence alone surprised her even more than Zohakuten, especially when he walked out of the room that Hantengu was in. Urami reveals himself every once in a blue moon due to the fact that he simply wishes not to deal with his younger selves' bickering and monkey business. However, seeing as all the others gained a bit of affection from their wife and that they're newlyweds, he too wished to spend some time with his wife.

— Much like Zohakuten, he's very gentlemanly when it comes to asking for affection from his wife. He respectfully asked if he could hold her and lift her up to his level so he could kiss her properly.

— Hear me out. The best kisser after Karaku. I don't know, he just looks like he has so much experience with women (which he kinda does 😒), like look how massive he is 😳.

She was surprised when a rather large hand gently grabbed her waist to turn her around. "Oh! Hello you!" She greeted happily as she looked up at her massive husband before hugging his legs. He was surprised but allowed it and even picked her up into his arms before kissing her temple. "Yes. I figured why not also be present when the others are gaining your addicting love?" Quite a flirt.

— Urami is surprisingly chill when it comes to kissing yet also really passionate. Like think of just wanting a quick kiss from big ass hubby over there and he picks you up only to give the most leg-shaking casual kiss ever 😫.

— He's quite a flirt. You could almost say he's near Karaku's level just minus to pervert stares, touches and so on. Like, he's the type of "Formal old man dilf" type of flirt and knows how to use his words, he just doesn't do it often due to how rarely he's present and even if he is, he's just mostly quiet (most sane clone).

— Should he ever engage in flirting with you, be prepared to have a face painted red and him drinking blood as if it were tea as he sits there with his most neutral expression.

— I swear, his kisses make you think you're a virgin again with how well he does it. Like, he even uses his fangs to graze your lips and even your tongue softly while also (respectfully) touching you to the point where your legs aren't even jelly, they're straight up water (😏).

Urami felt the familiar grip of his wife's hands on his kimono and knew that he was once again doing a flawless job at making her melt like ice in his arms and he couldn't be more satisfied at that fact as his fangs gently graze her tongue that was being twirled with his as if it were a sort of waltz. "You're doing it again." The tall clone teased before resuming their kiss.

— Holds your face or hands when he's kissing you cuz he's just that guy.

— Favourite places to kiss are hands, neck and forehead.

[ikarakie]

hopper sees steve as a surrogate son. really, he shouldn't make such a habit of picking up stray children, but he looked at harrington and saw a kid who just... needed someone. saw the vacancy in his eyes when he thought no one was looking. saw the police file, the noise complaints and the few reports from hawkins middle school about suspicious bruises that had been swept away. saw a boy who'd seen too much. who just needed someone to lean on.

so he tries to be that. offers the kid a hand every now and then. keeps an eye on him, all alone in that big house, after everything. after '83 and then '84 and then summer of '85, when he'd signed his medical papers because there was no other adult for him around. it always left him a bit hollow, but he told himself that it was okay as long as he was around. as long as steve knew, deep down, that he could come to hopper for help, even if he'd wait until he was on the brink of overload before doing so.

it's all this that makes the sight of steve's car, that brown beemer that had dropped his daughter back home so many times, pulled into a ditch with the lights off cause his stomach to sink. a million awful things come to mind as he pulls in behind it and quickly hops out of his cruiser.

had he seen something and spiralled into a panic? had he gotten a bad migraine? had he run off into the woods alone?

thankfully, he finds the best case scenario: a slightly flushed and dishevelled steve rolling down a foggy window. grinning like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar when he realises it's just hopper. he's fine, he's in one piece.

what's not fine, however, is the person with him in the backseat. eddie fucking munson, a kid hopper's put in handcuffs more than once. not because he's another boy, who gives a shit about that, but because it's eddie munson. drug dealer, general troublemaker, and definitely a bad influence on his boy.

he does his best to save the judgement this time, sensing the fear emanating off the couple. tells them to be more careful, to go home and kiss or do whatever there instead in case anyone else drives by tonight. munson looks at him like he's grown a second head, (which, fair. usually their interactions go a lot less amicably than this) and steve just tears up and nods. he reaches in to ruffle the boy's hair, ignoring the protests, before reluctantly trudging back to his car and driving away.

he calls steve the next afternoon and gets him to confess that, yes, he is dating edward 'eddie' munson. no, it's not a fling. yes, they're boyfriends, god help him. he gripes about it a decent amount, because really, steve? that one? you picked that one? but he keeps the tone light enough that steve feels comfortable enough to defend eddie's honour amidst laughter. within a week he's got steve sat across from him, eddie by his side looking two seconds away from shitting himself.

"well, boys." he grins, cracking his knuckles. eddie watches. gulps. "let's have a little chat, shall we?"

[love-quinn]

— PARTIAL CREDIT

summary — when a new member of the waitstaff starts undermining you, you worry that your job might be in jeapordy. carmen knows you better than you think.

warnings — swearing, i think that's it

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, semi (?) established relationship

pronouns — she/her

word count — 2.2k

note — i know i fully dropped off the face of the earth but unfortunately i was too busy channeling waitress reader a little too hard, i actually have to leave for work in a few hours but i really wanted to get something out. this 100% isn't inspired by true events or me projecting in any way, anyway i hope you enjoy!! <3

Being the only waitress at a successful restaurant is hard. During the dinner rush, between wiping tables, grabbing drinks and running food, you’ve slowly learned to be more adaptable to the Bear’s new clientele base. That’s not without its struggles, of course. 

Fortunately, Carmy and Natalie seem to understand that it’s a major handful to simply do your job. Which is why Richie thought it appropriate to call you in two hours early to meet the new waiter.   

Liam’s nice from what you’ve gathered. He’s been working with you at the Bear for about two months at this point, most of that has involved you and Richie training him, and he’s been very receptive to your instruction. 

Sure, sometimes he mutters under his breath when a customer asks him for something, but hey, they’re annoying sometimes. And sure, sometimes you find him in the walk-in on his phone, but you’d be lying if you said you were never on your phone at work. He’s had no complaints, and the work is always done to a standard that’s expected (he is still in training, you’re not delusional). 

You’ve worked at the Bear since they were still the Beef, right after Carmen took over. He realised Richie couldn’t keep up with the stuff at the front by himself, so he’d gone with the cheapest option available and thanked god every day that you weren’t awful at your job. You had just graduated from UofC and if you didn’t get a job when you had, you would have been pretty much out of options. You had no work experience outside of being a TA in college (which apparently didn’t have a lot of transferable skills, according to most of your potential bosses). You hadn’t been able to score an insane internship, you didn’t make super stellar grades, you’d been too busy being desperately poor and struggling to keep up.

You’d been really lucky that Carmen had taken a chance on you when he had, and you had been desperate to show him you were aware of that. Liam didn’t seem to have the same sentiment.

He was the same age as you, and he’d actually gone to UofC as well. He’d gotten a pre-med degree but wanted to take some time off before he went for his MD at Rosalind Franklin. 

He picked up on the work fairly easily, remembered when you showed him where the cleaning supplies were, showed him how to work the buttons on the till to ring in orders, and introduced him to all the staff. They were nice to him, nice enough. It took them a while to warm up to him, just like it took them a second to warm up to Carmen, to Sydney, to you. 

But now, several months in, they all got along enough that work was going well. You didn’t have to work six days a week if you didn’t want to now that Liam was there to lighten the load (you did, you made sure Natalie knew that). Now, you could actually take your lunch break without worrying they were being completely overrun. 

On the whole, things seemed to really improve. 

Until, of course, they didn’t. 

You started hearing whispers, soft remarks of “Oh, I did that for her,” to Richie about greeting table seventeen. Small “I wonder why that wasn’t done, I’ll just do it quickly.” 

“Not to be that person, but I noticed that a lot of the straws haven’t been stocked up. I feel like I have to do it every time. I just wonder what she’s doing when she’s back here…”

You do your best to not let it get to you. He’s never worked in the service industry before, he’s probably just doing his best to make sure that his efforts are being noticed. You were almost lucky, in that way, that you were the only real waitress they’d hired. 

It’s an unusually warm day as you slide in through the back entrance to work. You’re your usual twenty minutes early, lucky that there’s enough work to do that Carmen often encourages punctuality (and thus, fairly compensates for it). 

Liam is scheduled today, but he’s leaving after the lunch shift. You get your break while the kitchen does prep-work for dinner, and then you’re coming back for dinner as well. 

Marcus is in his corner, kneading bread dough with a concentrated look on his face. You brush past him with an airy hello that he returns with a half-hearted wave, not looking up from his task. 

Tina is on vegetables, and she stops you for a moment to ask about a shipment arriving. You assure her that you’ll check when you get to the other side of the kitchen, making your way to the front.

The chairs are already all down, table cloths clean and freshly washed. Sydney went down to the laundromat to get them all clean that morning; she’d texted you and asked if you wanted to come but you told her that you really, really didn’t. 

Your first job is a pre-opening sweep, then a restock, then a menu review. You have 87 minutes until service, and Liam should be here in the next fifteen minutes or so. You have just enough time to go and bug Richie into showing you more pictures of Eva’s last birthday party. 

You stick your head into the office just in time to catch the tail end of a sentence that you definitely weren’t meant to hear; “...doesn’t even stack the chairs? What is she doing here?”

Your work anxieties - the idea that every time something goes wrong it was your fault, that one missed drink or late appetiser would have you fired, that every time a customer berated you it was actually your fault - had definitely eased some in the six months you’d been working there. You’d stopped thinking that every time someone was complaining it was about you, but that meant that when they really were talking about you, you knew. 

Liam’s standing there, leaning up against a pile of papers that Carmen is staring roughly at. He looks tired - when doesn’t he? - and like he doesn’t really want to hear whatever it was that Liam was saying. 

“A lot more than you do,” Carmen grumbles. He runs a hand over his face from the bottom up, coming to a rest when it’s gripping onto his curls. 

“I’m always covering her sections,” Liam groans. “The amount of time that Rich’s given me her table’s drinks, it’s insane. We should start pooling our tips.”

Carmen wants to say a lot back to that. That his name is Richie, and calling him Rich doesn’t make him any more like the finance frat bros that Liam is so desperate to associate with. That tip pooling would be insanely unfair to you considering Carmy’s pretty sure Liam’s made less than what you make in a day. That he stacks the chairs because he likes to, and you know that. 

Instead, he settles on “you’re always covering her sections because she’s always covering up for you when you screw up.”

Liam looks like he’s unsure whether or not to go ghostly pale or beet red at the statement. “Wh- has my performance not been up to scratch, sir?”

Carmen stands. “I didn’t really notice it, at first, cause everything was going so well. She’d never tell on you, she knows what it’s like to struggle at a job.” He looks disdainfully down at Liam’s too-new dress shoes. Professional but impractical as a waiter. From what Carmen’s noticed, this is the second pair he’s ruined. “She’d never tell me that your silverware is never rolled, so she’s been staying late and rolling every single one of them. She’d never tell me that your tables are never cleared away. She’d never tell me that you had six meals comped in your first month because you couldn’t be fucked writing shit down.

So yeah, maybe you get her tables a refill when she’s too busy telling one of us one of your guests was coeliac because you forgot to, but that does not give you the right to look down your entitled fucking nose at her.” Carmen gets close, not close enough to the point where it could be uncomfortable, but much closer than he’d ever get to Liam if he could help it. 

“You don’t like picking up her slack? That’s fine, that’s fucking fine, because to be honest, it seems like you’re creating more work for her anyway. You’re done.”

He looks pointedly towards the door to the small office. 

Liam knows exactly what Carmy’s telling him. “Sir, I-”

Carmen raises a finger and points. “You’re fucking done.”

Liam scampers away so quickly he doesn’t even see you eavesdropping. 

Carmy knows, though. He seems to have a sixth sense for when you walk into a room. If you’re not planning on coming in to confront him about firing Liam then he has no intention of bringing it up with you. He sits down, putting his forehead on his fist. “Sir.”

You’re standing right in the door, it’s practically impossible for Carmen not to notice you. But he pretends, allowing you the chance to slip away and act like you hadn’t just witnessed him firing Liam for being slightly mean to you. 

He opens his eyes to see you standing there still. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” your voice is soft. The collar of your shirt is tucked underneath on one side, and Carmen has to resist the urge to reach up and smooth it out. He’s not quite sure why and he doesn’t feel like unpacking it. “He’s still learning, I don’t mind helping him out.”

Carmen doesn’t mince his words. “He’s a dick, don’t defend him.”

He swivels away from his desk and gestures for you to sit. After a second of hesitation, you perch yourself on top of the small surface. You’re not sure who moves first, Carmen to reach up and take your hands or you to reach down to let him. Neither of you have ever spoken about it, like a lot of things. How he always makes sure you get extra food and you make sure Carmen isn’t bothered while he sets up the dining room. 

You hadn’t realised how much Liam had been heightening your anxiety while he was there. “He’s not allowed to do that to you.” Carmy sounds genuinely pissed. “You do fucking everything out there, he’s not allowed to come in and treat you like some sanctimonious fuck. You… you should’ve come to talk to me about it.” He gives in. “You could’ve.”

“I didn’t want to be a problem.” You admit quietly. “You have enough without me.”

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t talk when he drives you home in the dark, in the snow. But he’d be naive to believe that the same rules applied to everyone else. The kitchen staff talks, none more than Richie. Carmy is surprised he hadn’t decked that pre-med asshole already. 

“You’re not a problem, honey,” he says gruffly. You stay silent for a moment before realising that’s probably all you’re going to get out of him. 

“I need to go prep dining for service,” you say after a moment, not wanting to speak too loudly. 

Camry’s grip on your hand tightens and for a brief second he feels panic set in. You clearly are feeling okay, so it’s not that he needs to check on you. You’re well ahead of schedule. There’s no reason for Carmen to keep his hand enclosed around yours. And yet he does. And yet you let him.

“Liam was just in here bragging about how dining room prep was already done,” he says after a short while. “You’re well ahead of time.”

“He is,” you point out airily. “I’d never want to take credit for his work.”

Carmen squeezes your hands once, eyes crinkling at the sides. You both know you need to go over everything Liam did in an attempt to make himself look better, not one hundred percent trusting him to have done it properly. There’s 56 minutes until service before Carmen finally lets you go (and only because he has prep he needs to get done).

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t say anything when he cracks his office door open for you when you need a breather. You don’t say anything when his station’s been cleaned for him miraculously while you’re waiting for him to finish paperwork.

Luckily for you, the rest of your coworkers seem to understand this time. Nobody mentions Liam or his absence. No one mentions the stars drawn on the band-aid on Carmen’s wrist. And, most surprisingly pleasant, no one mentions how Carmen has started calling you honey more than perhaps your real name.

It makes it even nicer when everyone heads out, leaving you and Carmen alone in the restaurant for the night. They seem to have miraculously developed tact over the last 24 hours, but you’re pretty sure nothing could have stopped Richie from telling everyone about the way that Carmen holds your hand the entire way to your apartment. 

[sadhours]

steve harrington x fem!reader

masterlist

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, a whiny, whimpering steve, short

steve makes the prettiest sounds. all the time. even when the mother fucker stubs his toe for the nth time on the foot of the couch. he knows where the little piece of wood is, you’ve lived here for a year together with this couch in the same place yet he stubs his toe on it weekly. and he always makes this whiny, drawn out complaint.

“goddamnit, ouchieeee!” he sings out with his face contorted in pain. every time. and you don’t tell him it’s the cutest sound you’ve heard him make. instead, you always offer a snort or stifled giggle and a comment about how he needs to pick up his feet when he walks.

but by far the best sound he makes is the one right before he cums. when you’re between his thighs, mouth lazily sucking on the head of his cock with his balls rolling in your palm. it’s the same sound he makes when he’s inside you, fingers gripping your hips as he presses deep— as deep as he can go. it’s a strangled gasp, followed by a high pitched whine that makes your ears hot. you always watch and listen in awe. his face contorts prettily, eyelids squeezed tight, brows furrowed, plush lips parted and flushed cheeks.

it’s addictive, you want more than the few seconds of pornographic audio. so you do a bit of research, learn about things like edging and milking and prostate massages. steve’s hesitant to let you near his asshole but he agrees to the other two.

leads to the two of you on the couch, several times. sometimes using your hand to milk his cock. languid and deliberate strokes that stop abruptly when you feel his thick cock twitching in your grip. other times, using your pussy to do the work. those times are harder for you. steve’s cock is long, hooked just right to brush against your spongy spot and you end up chasing your own orgasm instead of dragging a slow, drawn out one from him.

but it all works out in the end, ‘cause steve’ll press his lips right up against your ear and whimper, borderline cry until he releases, deep and hot and so lovely.

you become so attached to the sound, you’ll call him up and work, try to get him worked up enough to hear that tilt to his voice. to hear the desperation and neediness.

[goldsbitch]

That one trip up the stairs

part 5 to That one Christmas flight

summary: The rest of the hotel visitors probably had a bad sleep that night.

warning: unprotected sex, minors DNI (absolutely no plot involved), and all the classic ones - cheesy af, swear words and alcohoI I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

PS: Thanks for the support and reactions!! Love you all!

Dancing was great. But simply not enough for two impatient hearts. The kind of tipsy for which alcohol was not enough.

"I got us two rooms. Just in case," he said in the very few moments when his tongue was not deeply in her mouth. "Don't want to make you uncomfortable." Lando was big on consent. This only made Y/N want to fuck him more.

Talking and making out at the same time was becoming a shared past time for the pair. "Yeah? Well that makes two of us. I don't want pressure you," she said in between kisses. "That's the last thing I'd want to do. You don't have to fuck me. I understand the thought of you being inside me might be hard to take in," she said in a low suggestive tone with no other intension that seducing Lando. It was not like he needed to be at this point. He had her seated on some random alcove window on the way to their hotel room, hands full on touching her boobs, legs, kissing her neck, everything all at once.

"Get it? It's a pun," she broke their kiss again for a small moment.

"Yes, I get it. And you'll get it too if you don't stop now." Tongues and lips danced together as if their life depended on it.

"Hm, that might be hard, in fact getting harder and harder. Makes one wonder, huh" she teased and ran few stairs away from Lando.

There was no elevator, but Lando and Y/N sure had the making out while walking on stairs thing covered like professionals. Leaning on walls, nearly breaking a vase with a massive flower arrangement. They hardly noticed a distressed gentlemen walking in the opposite way who then filed a complaint to the hotel about their inappropriate behavior, describing it in such a detail one would expect the premium hotel to somewhat censor - which was not the case this time. When Lando received this email two days later, he had it printed, framed and hung on his bedroom wall. Next to his trophies.

Y/N wanted Lando and for him to want her too. And coming to think of it, she had been lusting for him for weeks now. The public shirtless pictures did not help. And he was right here at her finger tips. Her clouded mind saw no issue in removing his shirt in the middle of the hallway. Quickly working the buttons and the immediately throwing it out of the nearest window.

"Oops," she smiled and bit her lip. Lando stared at her in awe, her playfulness being something new to see in a woman. "Just sort of felt like a crime to have you dressed, you know?" she continued. If he could, he would take her right there. "Let's hope your hotel rooms are close, otherwise you'll be in trouble for public nudity soon," she sang loudly, indeed without a care in the world. Lando laughed, took her by the hand and kissed like as if he was ready to eat her up.

"That door, honey," he pointed to the end of the hallway.

"You're just lucky, aren't you."

//

And again, Y/N's hands went immediately for the chest. What she did not expect when studying Lando's photos was how smooth his skin felt. She remembered his fragrance working like magic on his skin, but this was a whole another level. She wanted to sink in him. They did not bother with putting the card in the holder, switching on the lights or anything else. It would be hard to find some other pair that took of their shoes so fast. Desire was putting them both into hyper speed.

This time Y/N had Lando pressed against the door, holding him locked by his arms. Lando could have easily escape that if he wanted to, which was the last thing he'd do. Y/N was becoming more driven and forward.

She bit his lower lip. He gasped. "Do you like this?" He nodded and smiled. "Good boy," she replied and continued pulling his hair a little bit more, just to the edge of pain. The she abruptly stopped. Lando looked at her and she instructed him to stay as he was. Her soft kisses started at Lando's ear, moving slowly on his jaw, then neck - where he seemed to be extra sensitive - and then down to his chest, all the way to his toned stomach. She looked up at him and took the hem of his trousers into her mouth. And finally, one of her hands touched his growing erection.

"Interesting," she commented with a hint of being impressed. Lando was absolutely loving that. But as much as he'd like to be in her mouth, he hoped there would be another time for that. He put a finger below her jaw and instructed her to move up.

"Honey, be patient. There steps that can't be skipped," he said as he began to toy with her shoulder straps until one of them fell down her shoulder. "Oops," he remarked mocking her previous actions. "Let me help you." And he moved the second strap as well. Y/N was getting flustered. She did not break eye contact for a second when she was removing her dress, leaving her standing there centimetres away from him only in her underwear. The rest of their clothes was on the floor in the matter of seconds. Both of them being eaten up by their curiosity. It was impossible to stay there standing. Lando pushed Y/N towards the bed in the same was they'd manager to walk up three flights of stairs. Only once she was finally lying below his, with his body hovering over hers was he able to relax and take the moment in. A week ago he would not have believed this was going to happen. His deep philosophical thoughts were gone the moment her hand reached for his cock. A shock wave of horny energy sprung through him and took Y/N nipple in his mouth and started playing with one, hard making sure the other one did feel left out. She was beautiful - this was not a surprise to Lando, but something about the shape of her body, the way she moved, the way how her body reacted to his actions was making her angel-like. Y/N wanted to go slow - if slow meant him waiting another minute maximum before he got into her. She touched him and started stroking him. "I have a proposition," she whispered to his ear.

"Anything," and he was sure he'd do anything she desired at the moment.

"Let's skip the fingers and tongues, I need to feel you like now. I want you inside. And the rest can be a nice breakfast tomorrow."

"I can't have that. Let me lick you once, just to taste, hm?"

"You can do whatever. Just make me happy and make me come, finally."

She was wet, ready and impatient. Lando licked her few times, making her regret her request instantly. It was something completely new. He wasn't just spalling his tongue around like the boys before him had. It was as if he had a secret map and was not afraid to be a little rough with his tongue. "Please, don't stop," she almost begged.

"As you said, breakfast," he joked once he was back face to face with her, being proud of himself when he saw her flustered look. Their bodies acted on their own from that moment. He slowly entered her, making sure to stay aware of her expressions. She had her eyes closed and was gripping his shoulders tightly. First moans arrived. Lando recalled Y/N teasing him on the way to the hotel that she likes to express herself verbally. He hoped this was what she talked about, because the sound she made was one of the hottest things he heard. Lando felt as if he belonged inside of her. Started thrusting slowly - and that was the moment Y/N lost it and let go. The rest was a mixture of blurry pleasure waves coming from all parts of the body, alcohol intensifying the experience for both of them. Lando was trapped in the moment and the rhytmn, watched her boobs bounce as he pushed to her. Y/N felt him present at every inch of her skin, his cock hitting spots she had no idea existed. Small waves of pleasure turned bigger with every move, until she collapsed in his arms and screamed out loud. He could watch that on repeat for centuries. She tightened around him for a good few seconds and then released. Lando sped up and pulled out at the dead last moment, hitting her stomach and a part of her arms. He cleaner her up and they both started catching up on their lost breaths. "Forgot to ask you, do you have a condom?" he asked cheekily. She laughed. "You'll send me your test results later, honey," she laughed, fully exhausted and high from all the hormones. Lando's body felt relaxed, as if someone finally allowed him to go off all the tension. Y/N was still receiving small pleasure waves in her fingertips. Was sex supposed to always be this good, she asked herself, putting her previous hook ups in a completely new light. He reached to her face and wiped a tear of sweat from her cheek. During that her studies her, the way her collarbone stood out and how her chest still went up and down faster than usually. Y/N looked him deep into his eyes. It was so easy, no awkward tension. She admired his pretty face and then kissed him lightly.

He was the one to suggest a shower. Tired Y/N grabbed all that was left in her and went ahead. She got up naked and hoped he was watching her. Which he did shamelessly, trying to burn the image of her ass into his brain for later use.

Lando's hair was all curly and cute. Y/N commented on that to which he responded by splashing some water in her face. It was hard to focus on anything else but the way how Lando looked and glowed with ease. "I'll help you with the soap," he offered dearly.

"Always a gentleman," Y/N remarked as he spread it all over her body, being extra focused on very specific parts.

"I don't think my boobs have ever been this clean, Lando," she said and reached for his again erected penis.

"Hygiene, people tend to underestimate it dearly," he managed to get out before dozing off from the way she stroked him, making him come for the second time today.

They dried each other with hotel towels, when Y/N started to come to her sense and usual brain usage levels. "Do you happen to know what happened to my luggage? Is it in the car?"

"Had it all brought here, I guess it's in the second room across the hall."

"Wow, who would assume for you to be such a planner. Shall we get to the second room? And maybe test which bed better?"

Lando smiled. "I can see you falling asleep while standing, honey."

"It feels nice spending time with you, you know?"

He kissed her once again, cupping her cheek and stroking her hair. They went to the other room, brushed their teeth and laid down. Y/N was gone asleep immediately. He watched for few more moments before also dozing off. If he wanted to he, he would - and he really wanted to.

part 6

__________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak

[crazy-only]

beating subby!lando in a grand prix !

pairings: subby!lando x fem!reader

premis: lando gets angry after losing first place to his female teammate so she lets him finish first in something else (･ω<) super smutty !

preface: thanks for all the support you guys are amazing i don’t deserve it ≧﹏≦ and please send requests and stuff, i’ll make sure to read them and write some more content based on your asks ! i’m open for any drivers. while you wait, enjoy lando being dommed <3

“yes!!!” you scream as you pass the finish line, watching happily as the crowd claps at your first-place finish.

“congrats, y/n. well done! another win for mclaren!” your manager praises through the radio.

you smile, parking the f1 car at the first place marker. “couldn’t have done it without you guys.”

hiding your tears of joy, you climbed out of the tight vehicle, removing your heavy helmet.

as you were skipping to meet your mclaren crew, though, a f1 car came flying dangerously close to your legs. you jump back, finding a fellow mclaren driver staring angrily at you from the cockpit of their car.

“not again,” you mutter under your breath, slowly walking away from the stalled vehicle as if it were a momma bear.

“hey!” lando shouts from his car, hurriedly escaping its seat and running towards you. “you can’t just overtake your teammate like that!”

you roll your eyes, trying to shove down the strong urge to choke him and shut him up. “that’s kind of how the sport works, lando.”

yet he doesn’t quit whining, and instead, snatches your hand, forcing you to look at him.

“aw, are we holding hands?” you say sarcastically with traces of venom.

lando steps closer, his height unfortunately much taller than yours. “we might need to if we’re going to be on the same team for the next few years.”

oddly enough, something in you shifted when lando said that with a straight face.

“so, should i let you finish first next time?” you ask, raising your eyebrows and brushing off the weird feeling you felt with lando so close by.

lando blinked rapidly, quickly retrieving his hand from yours. “th-that sounds wrong.”

“you perv! such a dirty mind,” you remark, trying to run away before you start to feel things for the cute annoying guy.

yet, lando leaves you no escape as he imprisons your arm into his strong grasp once again, dragging you away from the flickering cameras of the paparazzi and into his temporary racing room.

“y/n, why must you always drive like a fucking muppet and—“

you ignore lando’s complaints (mainly because they hit harder than what you let him see). even though you only knew him for two months, the boy was a good racer, and you respected that. he’s a big reason as to why you chose mclaren in the first place.

“what’s this,” you murmur while he rambles, walking towards his desk where a notepad lay.

“shit!” lando curses, quickly running to block your path. “don’t you dare,” he says, hiding the book in a hand behind his back.

you smile, sensing a challenge. “no.”

staring into his green eyes you reach a hand around his back, yet his reflexes are faster, moving the notepad to his other hand. you lean against him, his body trapped against the desk. you make fruitless attempts to steal his secretive journal until lando speaks up.

“jesus, y/n,” lando says, cheeks reddening with the close contact. “some personal space, no?”

you sigh, a bit sad, still wanting to see his secret diary or whatever that little notepad of his contained.

“ok,” you mutter, deflated.

he rakes a hand through his brown hair, a bit stressed. “like i was saying, i think it’d be much better if you,”

he continues ranting about the things you do wrong, his current subject about your excessive speeding in the last grand prix in which you placed behind him.

but you can’t focus, as that little notepad flys around in the air, lando’s passion for racing translating to his hands.

and you don’t think about it before you finally make a grab for the book. lando, a bit shocked, loses balance and falls back to his bed. he latches onto your arms in panic, forcing you to fall rather hardly onto his big body.

“ugh,” he groans, head hitting the back of the bedframe.

you smile and open the notepad while his consciousness was still weak. but you don’t find what you were looking for.

you found something much, much more shocking.

“lando, what the fuck!” you screech, still on top of his body. “why does it say right here that i almost crashed into carlos on turn three?! are you taking notes of my fucking races?”

you punch his shoulder hard, only making him groan harder.

lando, face frowning in dismay, tried to get up, but you pressed your body weight onto him.

“no, no, no, lando.” you say, tutting at his sorry excuse of running away. “you need to explain yourself.”

“fuck.” lando raises his arms and nervously fiddles with hair. “i just—i don’t know—wanted you to be safe and shit.”

you frown in confusion, flipping through the pages only to find more details of your supposedly dangerous racing style, highlighted in bold: she needs to slow down!

“shit, lando,” you say, trying to understand why he would do such a thing. “you obsessed with me?”

he sighs. “no! i’m just a good fucking teammate and want to make sure you don’t crash into me and kill me in the next race!”

you rest your head onto his chest, utterly confused. hearing his rapid heartbeats and rise and fall of his chest, you know he’s nervous.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you murmur, tracing the curves of his flexed bicep. “i can take advice. just don’t like rude comments.”

your teammate, clad in his compression shirt and unzipped racing suit, groaned.

“god, this is so fucking embarrassing.”

you smile and look up at him, feeling like maybe lando wasn’t actually so bad after all. “you’re cute.”

lando purses his lips, pushing your shoulders away. “just get off of me already.”

you shake your head, curious to see how lando would react. “what if i want to nap,” you say, pointing at his chest, “right here?”

lando looks up at the ceiling and scrunches his eyes. “y/n, stop it.”

you hum in question, rasing your body so you could see his face better. “stop what?”

“you’re-you’re getting me fucking hard right now, y/n,” lando rasped out, his hands covering his tomato-red face.

“i knew you were a pervert,” you murmured, rasing a hand up to gently caress his face, feeling the stubble on his chin.

lando’s eyes opened, surprised to still see you on top of him after his dirty confession.

enthralled, you look between his eyes and lips, wanting to feel the passion of a man that just wanted the best for you. you’ve never had anybody this sweet before.

“lando,” you whisper, playing with his brown hair, “do you like me?”

he nodded, bottom lip bitten between his teeth.

that was all you needed before pressing your lips onto his, smiling as he let out a deep groan. he broke away, looking up into your eyes a bit sporadically and shyly.

“can i touch you?” he asked quietly, cautiously placing his hands on your waist.

unsatisfied with his pg-placement, you tugged his hands towards your ass, knowing that’s where he secretly wanted them. “are you this shy with all of your other girlfriends?”

“i-it’s just different with you,” he said, sheepishly looking down at your shirt, green eyes widening at your semi-exposed cleavage.

“lando?” you say, scoffing as he attempted to take his eyes away but simply couldn’t.

you take advantage of the moment and sit up to straddle his waist, discarding your shirt and leaving you in a sports bra.

“happy now?” you say with a curved brow.

but lando seemed to become a different person after you stripped, his hands tugging your bra off so your top half was naked.

“h-hey!”

lando moves your hands that cover your tits, an inexplicable urge in him to feel you. he latches his mouth on your nipple, causing you to shudder.

“fuck, lando,” you whisper, head bowing at the sweet sensation of his lips.

growing in confidence (and simply wanting to please you), lando started playing with your other tit with his hand, looking up at your pretty reactions.

“you’re so pretty, y/n.”

you brush lando’s hair back, kissing his forehead. “should i let you finish first this time?” you asked, smiling.

“please?” lando squeaks out cutely, watching as you take off his racing suit and bottoms.

drawing his boxers down you find his dick, way larger than expected and as hard as a rock. “fuck, lando, you’re so fucking big.”

“i know,” he chirps with a grin on his face.

you scoff, watching his conceited face turn into a concentrated one as you lick his tip, tasting his precum.

his hand clenched into your hair. “mmm, please don’t tease me, y/nnn, m’begging you.”

“what happened to that cheekiness of yours, hm?” you ask, drawing your index finger slowly up and down his dick.

“fuck,” he whimpers, hips jerking. “please, please, fuck!”

you take off the rest of your clothes along with lando’s shirt, marveling in his defined abs.

you climb over so your pussy was over his dick, teasing him by licking his nipple. you laughed as he merely whined more, eyes lidded. you pumped his cock, its desperate veins showing.

“y/nnn.”

“okay, okay, baby, need it so bad, hm?” you ask as you lower slowly onto his dick, just now remembering how big he was.

“fuck,” lando gasped, sweat starting to bead on his forehead. “feels s’good.”

you, on the other hand, were trying your best to maintain your composure, wanting him to finish first this time. he stretched you in all the right places, making you moan as you starting sensually riding him. that goal of yours seemed more and more impossible with each stroke you felt.

“shit, so tight,” lando sighs out before grabbing the small of your back and pulling you down to kiss you deeply, humming and moaning in your mouth.

you bite his bottom lip that he himself bites so often. “been wanting to do this for a while. selfish to keep them all to yourself, baby.”

lando blushed profusely. “such a flirt.” he played with your tits, making you leave breathy kisses on his neck. “must be a player.”

you shook your head, riding him harder, a bit pissed at his conviction. “dumbass,” you say in between pants, accompanied by the sound of skin slapping. “only you,” you murmur.

lando grins cheekily, pupils blown out, as he places his veiny hands on your hips, helping you slam down onto his perfect cock. “oh, yeah?”

you roll your eyes. “how. do you. still manage. to piss. me off?!”

“dunno,” he murmurs, taking his right hand and rubbing your clit, making your head fall back. lando was good, you realized—why hadn’t you done this sooner?

but you held your release in. lando needed to be first—there was no other option!

so you kissed his collarbones, finding he was particularly sensitive there, smiling as he let out breathy whines.

“such a fucking bottom,” you murmur. “even though you try to seem like a badass on the track.”

lando’s face becomes more fucked-out.

“i’ll always beat you on the track, baby; accept it.” you tug lando’s hair, getting a better view of his eyes. “want me to give you some tips, hm?”

“quit it,” lando gasps, watching as your pussy enfolded his dick rapidly.

you nudged his chin up with a finger, his green eyes so soft. “you wish.”

you kiss him gently, his cock twitching inside you as he moaned, hands grabbing your hair rather forcefully and crushing his lips on yours. almost as if he were scared you’d evaporate.

“fuck, y/n,” he moans in between kisses. “don’t deserve you.”

with a smile you break away to leave pecks on his jaw. “who knew lando was this sweet?”

“need—mmm,” he groans out. “need to cum, fuck.”

suddenly a knock sounded on the door, followed by a, “lando? you in there?”

the both of you paused your movements, staring at each other in horror.

“hey, lando, the press is waiting!”

“fuck it.”

you ride him even harder, sweat dripping down your body, and whisper while staring into his wide eyes, “think you can stay quiet?”

with that, your teammate ruts his hips into you, chasing his release with his eyes on your face. he grinned as you also unraveled from the sudden force on your cervix, pussy tightening around his already-clamped dick.

“fuck, baby,” you whine, “so strong.”

as his strokes became more sloppy, lando came down, panting hard as he watches your pussy squirt. both of you, blissed-out, rest for a bit on each others’ heaving bodies.

“so hot, fuck,” he whines, his cock already hard again.

lando was about to beg for another round when a familiar voice shouted from the outside, “lando! i can hear you! clean up—we’re running out of time!”

lando gasps as you laugh loudly. “we gave him a performance, didn’t we?”

your teammate sighs with an annoyed expression. “fucking hell. why’d he listen to us?”

fastening into your racing suits once again, you get ready to leave the room before you notice something very important on lando’s face.

you go to wipe the lipstick kiss marks you left on his pretty skin when he stopped your hand, murmuring, “this is my first place trophy.”

with grins on both of your faces, you and lando walk out of the room, hand in hand, battling the paparazzi together. every time lando looks at you, he thinks of the hickies trophies he’ll give to you next time.

[k1ss0fjudas]

untitled mean lucifer fic

(first time posting something like this anywhere but regardless of that, enjoy. all lowercase and not beta-read. just slightly edited wordvomit pretty much. written and uploaded on mobile.)

tags/cw: nsfw, lucifer being mean, gender neutral reader/mc, dub-con (implies that lucifer wouldn't stop if you asked him to but only bc he knows whats best for u. ur rlly into it i promise), degradation + name-calling, puppy play, creampie, spanking (a little), breeding mention but not too in-detail - thats abt all i can think of.

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lucifer fucks you like he hates you.

when he allows you to warm his bed he makes sure you know it is a mercy on his part to even let you touch him, let alone in the haphazard, careless way you do— impatient and needy and pathetic.

an excitable, dumb puppy is the image he always circles back to; especially when you're on your knees and peering up at him with those wet, lost eyes of yours— tongue out and panting like a bitch in heat for a taste of his cock. you're so pitiful.

aw, don't look so sad. there's always a fondness for you nestled in his chest. who can blame him when you're such a tantalizing little thing? you're simply too endearing to ignore. you were made for him; made to be picked up by his own two hands and have him break you into something fun.

he knows you won't disappoint. mammon can talk all he wants with that idiotic mouth of his, you are lucifer's pet, and being lucifer's pet means that you will always entertain him without fail. it's what good pets like you live for. you really think lucifer would settle for anything less?

and what a good little pet you are, making such sweet sounds when he truly starts the process of breaking you in, bending you over the bed— ass up and face down so you can be properly bred and mounted like the dirty little mutt you are.

his hands are tight around your hips in case you decide to run away. you have a tendency to believe that you have any say in how lucifer plays with you. it's nothing a little punishment can't fix.

when light spankings aren't enough to tame you he pulls on your hair and makes it hurt, tormenting you even more with a mean little chuckle when you whine at him for 'being too rough'. if he's feeling especially evil he'll chastise you with a heavy slap to your ass to remind you that a "good little whore takes cock with no complaints." dumb cocksleeves like you always remember your place after a few good and hefty slaps.

and what kind of owner would he be if he didn't cum inside and mark you as his? you know he's reaching his limit when he starts to breathe a little heavier— huffing and puffing through clenched teeth as he presses your face even deeper into the bed. if you bitch and moan he might even try to suffocate you a little just as a reminder that you are his puppyslut to fuck and abuse. not even you can tell him how to use your holes, whether it be to satisfy him or to simply breathe.

you should be thanking him, really. you like to pretend you hate it when he's mean to you like this but he feels the way your fuckhole squeezes around him when he is.

it's okay, he'll treat you the way you deserve.

and what you deserve is to be collared and leashed, fucked and bred, used and abused. all of that is something lucifer can provide so make sure you lay there and take it all when he suddenly pushes balls deep inside you and cums. it's hot and so thick and there's just so much of it that you can barely hold it. you should pray to whatever there is out there that it won't leak onto the bed, unless you want lucifer to click his tongue and scold you, muttering something to himself about how he "should have known that a stupid whore like you would be incapable of doing something as simple as being a cumdump."

what a shame, really. oh well. that only means that you're going to have to be pumped full of cum for the next few hours until you learn to be a proper cumrag. aw, don't look so scared, puppy. you're only going to turn lucifer on even more.

in fact, he's already hard and rearing to go, pressing his tip against your freshly broken-in hole. he'll fuck you even rougher and he'll be so smug watching you struggle beneath him. aw, trying to run away again? that simply won't do.

now be a good little bitch and take it.