#i had BRIGHT FUCKIN PINK HAIR

[alice-the-kittycat-yt]

Dumb little me doodles.

Young me:

Current me (+my new TikTok pfp):

[rafeysbambii]

hypnosis : bambi!reader who caught s2!rafes eye the moment he met her planting roses in the middle of summer.

warnings : cursing

word count : 456

authors note : hi angels! this is my first little drabble, and i really hope you’ll enjoy! if you have any requests for new characters, drabble, fics, etc. my requests are pretty much always open! i’m willing to write about most things so go for it! i’d also like to thank @cameronsprincess for reading this through, you’re amazing! enjoy <3333

“the fuck are you doin’?” rafe had wandered to far from home after a particular bad fight with his father, and in his red hot angry rage - he found himself in a small meadow somewhere behind tanneyhills huge forest. “hm?” the brown haired girl had turned to the voice, her hands muddy and earthy from planting the beautiful flower she adored so much.

“i said what the fuck are you doing?” the second time around he’s growing more annoyed that the stupidly cute and deer like girl ignored his question the first time. “oh! m’ planting some roses! they’re beautiful aren’t they?” she chirps, her pink and glossy lips curving into a huge smile.

rafe scoffs, crossing his stupidly large arms over his perfectly fitted polo - “why the fuck are you planting flowers in the middle of fuckin’ summer.” his comment makes the girl frown, why so mean? “you don’t… you don’t like my roses?” her once bright smile, and peppy eyes slowly melt into a soft, adorable pout.

“hey - hey stop that, i never fuckin said i didn’t —“ before he can even explain himself the tears have already started to flow down the girl’s beautiful rosy red cheeks - making rafe feel… bad?

no, that can’t be it. rafe cameron doesn’t feel bad, that’s for… that’s for pussies, well that’s what ward tells him.

“a’right stop cryin’ s’ not that serious.” he leans down and grabs the small girl by her shoulders, pulling her in for an awkward yet warm hug, one that he isn’t used to. “you’re fine kid.”

she sniffles once, then twice - then a few times more before he’s grown tired of the hug, pushing her body back gently to stand back up on his expensive shoes. “what’s your name.”

“it’s y/n” there it is, that smile that made his heart skip a beat at the first sight of her - “bambi.” she cocks an eyebrow at him, a giggle escaping past her glossy pink and plump lips, “bambi?”

“yeah, bambi. you look like a deer, and you’re lurkin’ in the middle of the fuckin woods like one of em’ so you’re bambi.” the explanation falls to short ears, she doesn’t care about why - she likes it, bambi.

bambi, bambi, bambi.

“do you want to… plant a flower? it’s very relaxing!” he wants to say no — he really does, but with the flutter of her lashes, and the way she pulls her lips in between her perfectly white teeth, it’s hard to resist it.

“sure — whatever, don’t make this shit take forever.” with a blinding smile she pats the spot next to her, beckoning that boy next to her, in which he sits carefully.

“so first you…”

‘well bambi, you’re my deer now.’

another a/n: i really hope you enjoyed reading this, and if you ever have any problems with what i write im more than welcome to critique and for you to request anything! i’m still trying to figure out this tumblr thing with how to put together a masterlist but ill get there eventually! <3

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Got Jealous Of His Twin Brother”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, slight Yuuji x Reader but we all know who you’re really here for, Sukuna is down bad, narration is mostly from Sukuna’s POV

Word Count: 1.80k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna is a fucking geinus.

His plan is full proof. His brothers put him in charge of buying the tickets for some stupid ass movie Yuuji wants to go see, and you always write your work schedule down on the calendar taped to the fridge. Sure, yeah, maybe he had to call out sick for today because this was the only day that Choso had work and you didn’t, but now he knows that his plan will fall perfectly into place. Yuuji is already at the apartment, you’ll come downstairs eventually, and Yuuji will invite you to come to the movie in Choso’s place, making it look like a total coincidence and definitely not something he’s been meticulously planning all week.

Could he have just, I don’t know, asked you to go on a date with him? Of course not, that’s fucking ridiculous. This makes so much more sense.

I mean, you absolutely loved The Human Centipede, definitely weren’t covering your eyes in terror and disgust when he showed it to you, so it’s a no brainer that you’ll just adore Human Earthworm. Hah! What a fuckin’ joke, you’ll be dragging Sukuna out of the theatre within five minutes and begging him to take you out somewhere else without his annoying twin brother.

It’s perfect.

Him and Yuuji are lounging on opposite ends of the couch while Yuuji is going on and on about an Elden Ring boss he can’t beat. Sukuna has his boots propped up on the coffee table and his arms resting behind his head as he half listens to his brother, and more so keeps an ear out for your footsteps upstairs.

“I was gonna try and beat her without summons but she’s kicking my ass, how many tries did it take you?”

“One.”

“Ugh!” Yuuji flops backwards on the couch, grabbing a throw pillow and shoving it over his face, his defeated whines muffled through the plush cotton, “She’s so impossible!”

Footsteps, finally. As you walk into the living room Yuuji uncovers his face, and you stop dead in your tracks, pointing at him, and then his brother, back and forth a few times before rubbing your eyes.

“Holy shit, there’s two of you?”

Oh yeah, I never mentioned my family huh?

Sukuna just gives you a smug smirk, “Three, but the emo one couldn’t make it.”

Yuuji perks up, jolting upright on the couch and giving you a bright smile, “Hi! I’m the normal one!”

You pull a chair out from the kitchen table, plopping yourself down into the wooden seat, “I think I’m gonna faint.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Sukuna is… a fucking idiot.

He knew his brother had a bubbly personality and could get along with literally anyone, but how was he supposed to know that you two would hit it off so well? Yuuji is pulling out all the stops, holding the door open for you, offering to pay for your popcorn, god it’s like he’s trying to get on Sukuna’s nerves.

Granted, it’s not like Sukuna told him that he likes you, but I mean for fucks sake that’s his twin brother! Shouldn’t he have some sort of sixth sense for this kind of thing?

That pink haired fucker has you wrapped around his little finger, you’re looking at him with googly eyes and cheesing like it’s fucking picture day. Ridiculous. Why don’t you ever smile like that for him? He’s funny!

I’m never letting him in the apartment again.

The three of you walk up to the top row of the nearly empty theater, Sukuna making sure to sit right between you and Yuuji. Previews are rolling on the screen as Sukuna is trying his damndest to hide the scowl on his face, his large arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the way the large screen reflects different colors into your eyes. He didn’t really think this far ahead, he’s got you next to him at the movies but… what now? He’s mentally kicking himself enough as it is for not considering his overly charismatic brother, and now he’s realizing that he doesn’t even know what his own intentions are.

Did he just want to take you somewhere? Is he trying to sleep with you? Does he want to be… romantic with you?

God, what has he become? He’s supposed to be the tough fucking scary guy and he’s not only getting shown up by his nerdy brother, but also getting nervous at the thought of making a move on you.

Yuuji flings popcorn in your direction, making you squeal out a giggle as it gently lands in your hair. Sukuna groans, hardly paying attention as he’s deep in thought, running his finger through your hair and flicking the popcorn away. He’s so consumed in his own head that he completely misses the blush that tints your cheeks at his tender touch.

Should I have even bothered with this? I feel like staying at the house would’ve been better at this point.

A piece of popcorn flies into his eye.

“Ugh,” This is so stupid, Sukuna rubs his eyelid with his thumb, “Watch it, brat.”

Yuuji tosses his hands up defensively and you giggle again, leaning over the armrest and placing your pointer finger on Sukuna’s cheek, tilting his face to turn towards you. Have your eyes always been that bright?

“Ooh, bullseye.” He can feel your breath fanning on his face, you’re so close, but just as abruptly as you leaned in, you lean back into your seat. God, he wants more than anything to tell you to come back, but the words wouldn’t be able to escape his lips if he tried. Unfortunately, all he manages to do is glare down at you and make you shift awkwardly under his gaze, mumbling out a quick apology.

Fuck. I think I scared them.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

From what you’ve been able to gather, this movie is weird. Is it horror or romance? You’ve been having trouble paying attention, far too distracted by Yuuji leaning over the very annoyed looking Sukuna to excitedly whisper tidbits about the movie to you. But every time you look over to Yuuji your eyes can’t help but wander to Sukuna’s profile, the flashing lights of the large screen illuminating his tattooed skin, his bottom lip tutting out to blow the loose strand of his pink hair resting on his brow out of his eyes-

Ah dammit, I’m doing it again.

You’re so confused. Sukuna has been giving you mixed signals all night, sweetly running his fingers through your hair one moment, then glowering at you like he wants you dead the next. He’s so unpredictable, and you’ve been so distracted by him all evening that you’ve hardly been able to pay any attention to poor Yuuji, giving him bright smiles and fake laughs while your mind is completely consumed with Sukuna.

He’s been so grumpy the entire evening, you’ve been feeling like he’s… disappointed? Is he mad his other brother couldn’t come? Is he mad that you took the emo one’s place? Would he rather somebody else have gone to the movie with him? It was Yuuji’s idea for you to tag along, so it’s safe to assume that if Sukuna wanted you here he would have just invited you, right?

But then every now and again his eyes flicker to you, watching. Why is he looking at you like that? With his gaze so uncharacteristically soft, scanning your face like he’s searching for something, from the corner of your eye you can catch him looking at your lips.

Is there something on my face?

You’re ripped from your thoughts as a blood curdling scream erupts from the speakers, making you jump in your seat. You catch the tiniest glimpse of a smirk creeping on the corner of Sukuna’s lips as he sits like a rock, completely unbothered as per usual. You gently kick his foot under the seat, and he presses his large boot onto the top of your sneaker, pinning your shoe under his and keeping your foot locked in place under the sole of his steel toe boot.

You cross your arms over your chest, letting out a frustrated huff at him that only makes his grin grow wider, his face still pointed towards the large screen as he flashes his canines at you. He props his elbow on the armrest between you, resting his chin on the ball of his palm as he peers down at you with a smug grin.

“You ready to get out of here yet?”

Cocky fucker, I swear he gets off on making me mad.

“No.” You snap back defensively.

Unbeknownst to you, his question was not rhetorical. But you’re in it now, determined to sit through this entire movie even if it kills you. You’re bothering him enough just by being here, the last thing you want to do is make him feel like he needs to leave.

His smirk shifts into a grimace as he taps his boot on top of your shoe. You slide your sneaker away but he loops his calf around yours and pulls your leg towards him, gently kicking your foot. If you didn’t know better you’d almost think he was… trying to play footsies with you? You’re not really sure what he’s trying to do, all you know is that he’s still leaning on the armrest between you and probably unintentionally pulling you closer by your leg.

Your arm brushes against his as you try to maneuver your elbow onto the armrest, quietly muttering to him “You’re hogging up all the space.”

He leans down slightly to whisper in your ear, “Tragic. Use the other one.”

You nudge his forearm with your elbow, “Just move your arm.”

He lets out a quiet “Tch” and raises his arm to rest over the back of your seat instead, “This better, brat?”

You nod your head as a blush creeps onto your cheeks, luckily hidden by the darkness in the room. When you relax back into your chair you can feel his arm pressing into the back of your neck and his fingers lightly graze against your shoulder. It feels… kinda comforting, you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to lean into his touch and your heart starts to pound at the thought.

You don’t dare to look at Sukuna, deciding to quietly enjoy the moment. Which is a real shame, because if you did look at him there’s a chance you’d catch the way he’s gnawing on his bottom lip with a face that looks almost as flustered as your own.

He might be enjoying this more than you are, and he might even be thinking that having to sit through this movie might not be so bad after all.

A/N: POV you and Sukuna are two idiots who are into each other but neither of you have the balls to do something about it. Also writing Sukuna’s POV for the narration was SO FUN!!! We love our delusional king who sees you god forbid smile at another person and immediately assumes you’re in love with them Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[emmyrosee]

NO WAY I HAVE A THOUGHT HOLD ONN

I just saw this TikTok of this girl that has a bf w a lot of tattoos and she gets this colourful eyeshadow pallet from her makeup bag to COLOUR IN THE TATTOO if u get what I mean like the tattoo could be like a butterfly or a dragon AND SHE COLOURS IT IN WITH HER COLOURFUL EYESHADOW PALETTE and omg I IMMEDIATELY thought of SUKUNA it’s be such a cute interaction 🥹🥹

-Anon🥢

GOD THIS IS SO CUTE-

——

Sukuna naps. More than he should.

He can fall asleep anywhere and everywhere, for long stretches of time that you should be concerned with, had he not been doing it since the beginning of your relationship.

Your first date was not worth paying for a movie, candy and popcorn, when he merely slept the whole time. You could’ve done it for free at home.

Regardless, here you were, repeating history as he snores loudly next to you, his arms crossed as he sleeps soundly, lips parted to let out small little huffs. You sigh and grab your phone to scroll, no longer interested in the movie without having someone to talk to about it.

The first thing to pop up, has you smirking, with a girl shading in her boyfriends tattoos with eyeshadow. Granted, sukuna doesn’t have shapes of tattoos, but he has plenty of tan skin to cover.

You squeal and run to grab your palette and a brush, suddenly more excited than you realized to color in your boyfriend.

You start with a gentle touch on the circle of his shoulder, dipping into a peach that looks enough like his skin tone if he were to wake up.

When he doesn’t, that’s you’re cue to keep going. It doesn’t take long before he’s absolutely covered in pigment.

The small bit of skin between the tattoos on his chest are quick to be colored in, your brush gently dusting over his skin to apply the color. His face twitches but ultimately, he stays asleep. You deem him out of it enough to straddle his lap, allowing you more access to his tattoos and tanned skin, nearly laughing as he stays asleep, arms laid limp at his sides.

Bright pink blends into bright purple in the gaps of his tattoos, and in the gap of skin below the ink, mint green turns to light blue. You smile and clean your brush with another swirl on a paper towel, dipping into a lilac color and swirling it on the slender bit of skin on his bicep above the skin not needled with ink.

Your brush trails a tad too close to under his arm, and he scrunches his face and shakes you off. You pause, holding your breath, but you’re out of luck as he screws his eyes tight and grunts in exhaustion.

“Whyre you tickling me?” He grumbles, stretching awake and smacking his lips together. “I’ll kill you. We’ve been over this.”

“I’m not,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his cheek and brushing a lock of hair off of his forehead. “How was your nap?”

“S’good.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms, and when he blinks his eyes open to look at you, his brows furrow at the colorful eyeshadow palette on your lap, “you doing some makeup shit?”

You sink your teeth into your lip, “uhm… kind of?”

“The fuck you mean kind of? It’s a yes or no-“ red eyes fall to his arm, face flat as he eyes the colors splashed over his body, some blended in together, others just solid colors filled onto his skin. You laugh nervously as he continues to look down at his torso. “So, you want me to beat the shit out of you?”

“No,” you giggle. “I wanted to make you prettier.”

“I’m already pretty enough, don’t use my body like a damn coloring book, you freak.” He stretches his arms out, brows furrowing as he sees the full extent of your coloring, “fucking- how mUCH EYESHADOW DID YOU USE?”

“Not a lot!” You defend. “It’s a pigmented palette.”

He glares at you, “and you’ve got the nerve to ask me to buy your fuckin’ makeup when this is the shit you pull!”

“You’re the one who fell asleep in the middle of the movie!” You whine, shoving his chest gently. “I needed to entertain myself somehow!”

He catches your shoving hand into his big one, and you gulp nervously, “I’m old. I sleep a lot. This ain’t news.”

The fact he hasn’t yelled at you tells you everything you need to know, and you grab your brush again to continue. “Hey! I’m scolding you, dickhead!”

“Im listening,” you assure, popping the brush into the yellow and moving to the other tattooed circle on his shoulder. “Youre old, I know, you like sleeping, I know-“

“That was not an invitation for you to keep coloring!” He hissed.

You look back up at him though your lashes, pouting subtly, “aw, jeez- fuck you, you know that?” He snarls, and when you blink at him, he rolls his eyes and sits up to be nose-to-nose with you. “Stay out of my armpits. Do not color my face. And so help me, if you take any pictures-“ when your pout deepens, his lip curled into a snarl, “fuck you. ONE. picture.”

“You’re the best!” You mewl, peppering his face with tiny kisses. “The best boyfriend anyone could ask for-“

“Shut up and keep coloring before I change my fucking mind.”

[madaqueue]

PUSH AND PULL

something silent and intangible ties you to sukuna, and has for as long as you've known each other. but you can't help but wonder what would happen if you pull on that little red string of fate, bringing him closer than just friends.

pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

themes/content: modern non-curse au, best friends to ???. suggestive/smut. language, pet names (pretty, baby, sweetheart), he calls you a slut but like as a joke, alcohol consumption, semi-public. 18+, MDNI (wc: 2.6k)

It was always just you and Sukuna, for as long as you could remember. Even as kids, the two of you found your home in the corner of the playground after he pushed someone off a swing you wanted to use; in highschool, you etched your names into the desks during some mundane class, landing both of you in detention. He wove his way into your life, and you into his, mending the frayed threads left behind by scissors and rough hands.

So of course neither of you ever dated - you didn’t need anybody else. Nobody would put up with (nor could handle) him and his moods. And you, well, nobody would dare get near you so long as you had him around.

To his credit, it took very little to scare any potential suitors off, oftentimes nothing more than a glare or a firm hand on their shoulder. And he seemed to understand that no one would ever quite compare to you, everyone else too boring, too bland, too pathetic to deserve his attention.

And so, you played along, this little game of pushing and testing and teasing and almost almost almost.

Yet, there was always something in the way, some invisible force keeping you from ever bridging the gap. “Just friends,” you both called it, a name for the insurmountable chasm between you. It was silent, unspoken, but always felt, a magnetic pull that kept you close but never allowed you to touch.

Tonight in particular, at this shitty house party of a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, that pull feels almost tangible, lingering in the hazy air.

Music blares, flashing LEDs illuminating the thin layer of sweat covering both of your bodies. Every thump of the bass electrifies the air, your heartbeat vibrating in tune. Tattooed hands hold your hips firmly against his body, your ass pressed to his pelvis.

You love this song. He loves you loving it.

That smug grin plays across his face, shadows cast by the flickering party lights above making it appear far more sinister to someone who doesn’t know Sukuna. But to you, he’s perfectly content.

When the chorus hits, you bend at the waist, dropping forward and grinding against him. Always such a fucking tease, he thinks as a quiet laugh escapes his lips. His fingertips tighten their hold but he shows no other sign of his sinful desires (he was proud of his restraint, even after all these years).

Bending your knees, the pathetically thin material of your dress rides up just enough that a prouder man would feel obligated to look away. Sukuna, of course, just chuckles as you look over your shoulder.

“You look like a slut.” Bright white teeth shine through his grin.

“At least I can dance,” you retort, hips circling against the front of his jeans. “You look stiffer than a dead guy’s dick.”

Throwing his head back, a laugh overtakes him, seemingly louder than the shitty pop song playing through the speakers. Pink hair catches under the red lights, absolutely electrifying. “Jesus, I forgot how filthy that fuckin’ mouth of yours can get.”

Fully turning around, you press your chest against his, your dress doing little to hide the way your nipples harden at the mild friction. The now-empty cup in your hand dangles at your side as you stand on your toes, lips brushing against his ear. “I’m gonna go get another drink to wash out this ‘filthy fuckin’ mouth,’” you shout over the music.

Instead of verbally responding, Sukuna steps back, slapping your ass as you make your way to the kitchen.

You know, of course, that he wouldn’t let anyone else talk to him the way you do, and you, of course, wouldn’t dare let anyone touch you the way he does (and he sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone else do it, either).

The kitchen is brighter than the surrounding chaos, your eyes blurry as they adjust. Finding your way to the stash of bottles, you pour yourself some combination of juice and liquor. The fake marble of the table is cold against your skin as you hop onto it, crossing your legs as the liquid hits your lips.

It’s certainly palatable, you shrug.

You bask in the muted silence for a moment before it’s broken by Sukuna’s loud footsteps marching towards you.

He always commanded attention so effortlessly, eyes turning to follow his path. At first you thought it was the visible tattoos lining his skin and notably unnatural hair, but over time you grew to wonder if there was something more innate, something living within his soul that evoked the unyielding focus from those around him.

Ruby eyes lock on yours (surely an effect of the colored LEDs still flashing nearby) as he glides in front of you. Your legs part, dangling over the edge of the countertop as he slots himself between them, arms encircling you.

Placing his palms onto the table behind your waist, the scent of whatever expensive cologne he probably stole this week hangs on his clothes as he leans closer.

“Thought I finally got rid of you when you didn’t come back.” His voice is gravelly, lips pulled into a leering smile.

“Maybe I just finally got sick of dancing with someone who only wants to paw at me,” you chuckle sarcastically. Lifting the cup to your mouth, you take another swig. “And you’re awfully close for someone who smells like shitty beer and sweat.”

“Oh really?”

Before you can respond, his lips are trailing up your neck, his nose pushing your hair to the side as he nuzzles into your skin.

His breath is hot, tickling your earlobe as he lowly whispers, “Well you smell lovely.”

On instinct your legs try to close around him, a desperate attempt to quell the ache growing between them. You hate his stupid fucking voice, his annoying flirting, how he always goes just a little too far pushing your buttons.

But he’s your friend.

(And that’s all you’ll ever be to him, too).

All you can do is chug your drink, hoping the alcohol dampens the racing pulse of your heart.

“Thanks, I actually pay for my perfume, unlike you, you fucking delinquent,” you manage to spit out.

Finally he pulls back, eyes locked on you. There’s an intensity behind them you can’t quite name, but one you’ve grown familiar with.

He’s playing with you.

A low hum vibrates from his throat in response, his gaze traveling down to your lips. “What’re you drinking?”

He changes the subject, as he always does when things threaten to get too serious, too real. Always running away, afraid to face the ever-insistent voice inside him that evokes a pause the moment before he hurls himself over the edge into desire.

You smirk. “Why don’t you try it?”

Bringing the cup to his face, it rests on his lower lip as you tilt it upwards, the saccharine liquid pouring down his throat. His eyes never leave yours as he swallows. A small trail dribbles down his chin while you place the empty plastic cup onto the counter beside you.

“Messy boy,” you coo, tone as falsely sweet as the drink lingering on his lips.

Grabbing his face, you pull him towards you, close enough you can make out the faint freckles decorating his cheeks. You collect the sugary liquor on your tongue as it travels along his skin, slightly rough from his freshly-shaved stubble. When you reach the corner of his mouth, you place a teasing peck before releasing your grasp.

“Someone should really teach you some manners, ‘Kuna.” And that devilish smile spreads across your face.

You see, you can play with him, too.

He stifles the giddy laugh building in his chest as he fixes his gaze back on you. “And someone should teach you how to make a drink, that shit was nasty.”

“You entitled brat,” you snap back, pushing him away with a hand against his chest. “I make excellent drinks, otherwise why else would you end up drunk on my couch every weekend, hm?”

“Maybe I just like the couch’s company,” he grins, dimples poking through the darkened lines spanning his face.

You’re both just staring at each other, waiting for something to happen, for someone to make a move. The air is electric, buzzing with that imperceptible desire.

Fuck it.

Just as you move to lean into him, a noise cuts through the static.

“Sukuna!” someone calls from the depths of the party.

His head whips around before shooting you an almost apologetic glance. “Guess someone else requires my attention.”

“Wouldn’t wanna keep them waiting for everyone’s favorite asshole,” you mock. With a mirrored smack of his ass, you send him away into the chaos surrounding you.

In his absence, your head swirls, overwhelmed with the alcohol and the lights and the sudden heat in your core.

Just friends.

You’re just friends.

Taking in a steadying breath, your hands shake as you pour another drink.

But at what point does it stop being a game? When do you decide to stop playing?

With a sigh you knock it back in one gulp before wandering between the bodies crowding the space.

The rest of the party is all skin and noise. It’s fluid and blurry and utterly debaucherous, the way you throw your arms around your friends, the way your body moves with each increasingly loud and repetitive song.

By the time the next few hours have passed, your feet start to ache as you make your way from the swath of strangers crowding the makeshift DJ booth at the front of the house.

Stumbling towards the back, a familiar voice calls your name.

“Where ya goin’, pretty?”

Sukuna is sprawled across one of the stained couches lining the walls, an unfamiliar girl hanging on his side. Her hands rest across his chest as her eyes cover you disapprovingly, nails digging into his shirt when you refuse to give her an ounce of attention.

“Lookin’ for somewhere to sit down,” you sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“Got a free seat right here,” he smirks, patting his thigh. This fucker.

An angry glare forms along the girl’s face as she stares at you with a displeased grunt. Crossing your arms, you let out a breathy chuckle. “I would, but I wouldn’t wanna interrupt anything.”

Sukuna never even turns towards the girl who now traces her fingertips down his chest. “Nothin’ to interrupt here, baby.”

Exchanging a quick glance at the increasingly unhappy stranger lounged across him, she lets out an annoyed scoff as she rolls her eyes, finally removing herself from Sukuna. Brushing past you, she tries to shove into your shoulder before she misses, tumbling forward and back onto the dance floor.

You can’t help but giggle at the failed show of dominance, your eyes now finding their way back to Sukuna. He pats his thighs again expectantly, eyebrows quirking as he awaits your response.

He’s fucking with you, of course.

But before you know it, you’re standing between his legs. With a small sigh, you seat yourself on his lap, bare legs straddling him. A whisper of mischief dances behind his eyes while his hands make their way to your hips, holding you firmly in place.

“See? Isn’t this much more comfortable?” he taunts.

Heat builds in your core at how low his voice is, the rumbling of thunder just before a storm.

“Mmm,” you hum, letting your dissatisfaction show as you click your tongue. Wrapping your arms easily around his neck, your fingertips absentmindedly trace the lines of his tattoos to where they end at the neckline of his t-shirt. “It’s a bit better, but something’s still missing.”

“Oh yeah?” When he smiles, the lines adorning his skin crease invitingly. “And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You can’t help but grin silently. Because you can fuck with him, too.

Rolling your hips forward, your clothed pussy drags along the outline of his cock. The firm denim of his jeans provides just enough friction to have you stifling a moan. He inhales sharply through his nose, the soft sound cutting through the static noise surrounding you.

“Isn’t that better?” you coo teasingly as his fingertips dig into your waist.

A choked groan leaves his throat, his inability to let you have the upperhand fighting against the sudden desire to pin you down on this shitty couch and fuck you right here. Attempting to shake the thought off, his head falls forward into your neck.

Of course he’s thought about you like that before - you’re gorgeous, fucking hilarious, and somehow just as stubborn as he is. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

But some small part of him worries that the moment he pushes you too far, you’ll run, just like everyone else in his life. He was always too intense, too angry, too much. But not to you - you seemed to love him in spite of it, maybe even because of it.

Maybe that’s why he lets himself play this eternal game of cat and mouse, the push and pull.

But fuck, right now he wants to pull.

He wants to pull you against him, dragging you along the length of his hardening cock through his boxers. He wants to pull you up and down as he fucks into you, feeling your warm walls meld around him. He wants to pull your lips apart with his, tasting how sweet you are, whispering things he wouldn’t dare say to anyone else. Anyone but you.

The words feel heavy on the tip of his tongue. I want you. I want you. I want you. They’re too weighted, he worries. Instead, he settles for biting at your neck, hoping that your skin between his teeth will be enough to satiate his body’s need.

“S-shit,” you stammer at the sensations of his canines digging into your flesh. “Acting like a fuckin’ teething puppy, hm? Need someone to train some manners into you? Or do you want me to tell you to sit, stay, tell you you’re doing a good job?”

And he does. But of course, he’d never tell you that.

Instead, he bites harder, leaving dark bruises in his wake, a reminder of his mark on you.

As his lips trace up your neck, he pauses to nibble along your earlobe. “Just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” he whispers, his breath hot. “Wouldn’t want anyone taking what’s mine.”

You nearly whimper at the words - his? - but you manage to hold back, instead letting your neediness out with another circle of your hips. He hopes you miss the way his breath catches in his throat at the movement.

“Oh? I’m yours now?” you tease, silently pleading he doesn’t notice the lingering waver in your voice. “Quite possessive, don’t you think, ‘Kuna?”

You feel him chuckle more than you hear it, the warm puffs of air gently blowing against your hair. “I’m only possessive of things I want,” he growls. God, you always loved that rasp in his voice, like a gravel road lining the way home.

At this point, you’re sure your panties are soaked through, the tip of his cock dragging along your clit through them. You’ve never gone this far with him before, never been so bold, so desperate.

And he fucking loves it.

“And what do you want?” Your voice is airy, breathless, as your pace seems to pick up. You’re grateful for the dim LEDs flashing distantly from the depths of the party for hiding the blush undoubtedly dusting your cheeks.

Trailing wet kisses along your jawline, his mouth comes to rest just in front of you. His lips are soft, barely brushing against yours, a few millimeters apart. So close. So fucking close.

“I think it’s rather obvious.” His breath smells like liquor and desire as he whispers, “I want you.”

a/n: getting out of my writing slump by going back to my roots (wanting to fuck sukuna)

[entitled-fangirl]

Breakfast is ready.

Felix Catton x reader

Summary: The reader feels sick, but Felix is going to make sure she eats breakfast.

Words: 968

Warnings: sickness, cursing

Author's note: This is kind of from an ask but I made it just about breakfast!

Masterlist

................................................................

She woke up to the blinds being opened by the maid, "Breakfast is ready."

She let out a soft groan, sitting up and stretching her arms out. Her hair was a mess, her clothes frumpeld. She looked over to see that Felix's side of the bed was empty and quite cold. He had been out for a while, and she couldn't possibly guess why he would leave her.

She pushed herself to the edge of the bed, standing onto her feet. Her head hurt, perhaps her body becoming ill, but there was no skipping breakfast. Her legs shivered, her now realizing she is only in Felix's shirt and her underwear. 

Running to the dresser, she pulls a pair of slacks. Pulling them on quickly, she throws a jumper over Felix's shirt. She tames her hair just enough to look presentable. But she takes an extra minute in the mirror, looking at the bags under her eyes. How late had they stayed up?

Throwing on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm, she quickly goes downstairs to breakfast.

Entering the dining room, she's greeted with quiet, "Morning"s. Her eyes immediately scan the table, seeing Felix look up at her too. A bright smile comes across his face at the sight of her sleepy form.

She quickly moves to sit next to him. As she sits down, she feels Felix's hand rest on her back, "You alright, angel?" He asks in a low tone.

"I… yeah. I just don't know why you didn't wake me up this morning." Her hand reaches up to her head as the headache comes back.

He lets out a soft laugh, whispering in her ear, "Well, I figured you deserve as much beauty sleep as I could give you. Seemed to work. I mean, look at you this morning. Taking my fuckin breathe away."

A smile graced her face as her cheek turned a shade of pink.

Duncan entered, "Goodmorning. How would you like your eggs?"

She grimaced, her voice coming out still quiet and hoarse from her sleep, "I'm fine, Duncan. I'm not that hung-"

"-She'll have them over easy. Thanks."

Duncan leaves with a nod.

She turned to Felix, "Why did you do that?"

He shrugs, his arm going over the back of her chair, "You need to eat."

She gives a slight pout, "I can't… my head hurts too bad."

His eyebrows furrow, "Did you sleep alright?"

She nods, "I slept fine, Lex."

He doesn't take that for an answer.

"Listen, angel. You think you're getting sick?"

"No. No. I'm alright."

He nods, deciding not to fight about it at the table. A silence ensues for a while before he decides to break it again. "Oh, angel. We were talking about the Shelley biography."

Venetia jumped in, "yeah. Do you know the story about Shelley's doppelgänger?"

She shook her head, stopping once she remembered the headache.

Felix got up from the table, going to the side table.

Venetia continued, "Shelley's housekeeper was cleaning one of the rooms when Shelley walked past the window and waved at her. So, she waved back before she realized that Shelley was in Italy…"

Felix had returned to the table, gently setting the now made plate in front of his angel for her to eat. She looked at him with a slightly disagreeing look, but knew not to fight about it at the table. 

"…And she was on the top floor of the house…"

Felix grimaced at Venetia's story, his hands moving over his girl's ears to keep her from hearing it. If it would freak him out, he knew she shouldn't hear it, "Oh, Vee. Stop, stop, stop. I won't sleep."

But she continued, "…a few hours later, he drowned."

Elspeth gasped, "oh. Oh, that's just given me goosebumps."

Felix took his hands back, considering it safe for his girl to listen again.

Farleigh stared at the paper in front of him, his voice strong and uncaring, "I heard he fucked his sister."

Sir James finally spoke up, "Oh, for God's sake!"

Felix turned, "Jesus, Farleigh…"

Oliver quipped up, "I think that was Byron."

The table went quiet, as if everyone had forgotten that Oliver was there. That quickly turned to small chatter between the adults.

Farleigh looked disgusted but Felix held an amused smile on his face, turning to her to see she had a matching one. He then pointed at her plate, as if telling her to eat it. About that time, Duncan brought out her eggs, setting it next to her other full plate. She let out a sigh, staring at the food. 

Elspeth was brought out of her talk hearing the girl's sigh. "Oh, darling. Is everything alright?"

Her eyes snapped up, her mouth opening to answer, but Felix beat her to it, "she's not feeling well, that's all."

The mother nodded, "Oh, I see. Nasty sickness going around this time of year. Take your time today, darling."

She nodded gratefully, turning back to her plate. The chattering continued and she continued to stare at the plate. Eventually, Felix brushed her arm lightly with his, his voice soft again, "Is something wrong, angel? You really must eat."

She simply stared at the eggs, feeling herself get sick just staring at them. Felix noticed it, immediately moving the plate away, "Duncan. Could I actually get some eggs just… scrambled?"

"Felix, stop."

"No. I want you to be able to eat what's in front of you. Duncan?"

Duncan nodded, taking the plate away quickly. 

She turns to see everyone staring at them. She mutters a quiet, "I'm sorry."

Felix sighs, "Don't be, angel." He kissed the top of her head as she stared at the table in embarrassment. 

Breakfast continued, Felix's arm around the back of her chair the entire time.

...................................................................

[gamblersdoll]

fwb, relationships, small angst, smut. long fic alert, not proof read, some fluff and some jokey jokes :p worked on this since 11 am.

katsuki bakugou didnt do the whole relationship thing. he felt like it was.. too intimate, too intense for him. a mere distraction for him and his career.

he thinks hes the only one who thinks that, seeing how shitty hair and pinky got together. the way that idiot and the emo chick were always together— fuck, chargebolt made her his whole life, which was fucking ridiculous.

he was more fond of the casual fucking, either going on tinder or hinge or whatever fucking apps there were. his account was booming though, several thousand of messages every five minutes. it annoyed him, shockingly.

“dude, can i get a fuckin’ minute of peace?” he barks out, silencing his phone and pinching his bridge.

“bro, you literally downloaded a dating slash fucking app, and you are the second pro hero.” kirishima reminded him, feet on the coffee table and swigging his soda. “get what you paid for.”

“get your fucking feet off’a my damn table, are you a caveman?”

he hated how kirishima was right, thinking he wouldnt get some kind of attention from an app when he was a hero, an attractive one at that.

so he deleted it, he’ll try going out more than possibly be stalked on a dating app.

he hated how every woman threw themselves at him when they saw him, he doesnt like that much attention. even in highschool, it overwhelms him. every girl in this damned bar was all over him.

well… excepting one. which so happened to be you, you just wanted to be left alone and drink to your hearts content. bakugou can clearly see that, and keeps an eye on your for a bit. later on though? oh he’s gotten loose enough to finally come up to you with ease.

“what’cha drinkin?” he asks, an arm supporting his weight on the bar table.. his cheeks were a slight pink, but he doesnt drink enough to make himself so tipsy or drunk.

“strawberry mimosa?” you chuckle, it literally says it on the can. “you must be blind or drunk to not be able to see that.”

an eyebrow of his quirks up, he’s intrigued. “i ain’t drunk, hon’.” he chuckles, “and do you even know who i am?”

“even if you are the ‘great explosion murder god, dynamight,’ yer off duty.” you snark back, hearing a baritone laugh come from his throat.

“and how would you know that?”

“well, pretty sure they wouldnt let you drink onna’ job.” you retort, turning to him now and crossing your legs. you hear a ‘yeah?’ and you nod.

“you sure, sweetheart?” he asks, taking another sip of his ‘oktober fest’. he sees you nod, and he hums. “how are you so sure?”

“pretty sure its common knowledge, but, common sense aint common no more.” you pull the final last word, dynamight nodding and tilting his drink to yours. you both clink your drinks together, holding the eye contact that he initiated.

the drive home was hell, the way he had struggled to keep his eyes on the road, your foot sliding across his lap and feeling him slowly get solid by the second.. you were a little vixen werent you? and to open the door without dropping you was more smooth than anything.

he practically ripped your clothes off, a nipple becoming his first victim and you arching into his mouth. he chuckled, youre so sensitive, arent you baby?

god, he hasnt had a good pussy in a long time.

his body molded into yours, kissing your neck and then lying you down and dragging his tongue down your supple skin until he got to your ankles, then back up to your nipples.

he never kissed your lips though, yet, he also didnt taste you.

the crack of the morning dawn showed its ass bright and early, your frame still within the bed and he was on the other side. interestingly, you both groan groggily and flutter your eyes open, head peering up and looking around.

lucky for you both, you werent hung over. you both peak over to each other.

one blink, two blinks, three blinks… bitch, say something!

“uh—“ you both say, redirecting your gazes and chuckling.

“you wanna go or me go?” he asks, watching you point to him and he nods. “did you like last night?” he asks, just a common courtesy to ask. he sometimes cared. it just depended on how you were in bed.

“i liked it,” you said, getting up and putting your panties on. “i did sleep with the second pro hero.”

he hums only.

“did you walk or drive to the bar?” he asks, pulling up ‘uber’ and looking to you. you mutter a ‘walk.’ and you give him the addresses to your house.

“you just randomly give out your address?” he asks, an eyebrow raised and hes hunched over.

“you just sleep with random people you dont know?”

he sucks his teeth, “you got such a mouth on you.” he taps on the confirmation button, “your uber will be here in thirty.”

“you seemed to love it last night, dynamight.” you glares at you for a second, you putting your dress back on and smirking. “but thank you, sir.”

sir?

you both make small talk, until the uber gets here and dynamight walks you to the car. he leans against the door frame, watching you strap in and take off.

katsuki bakugou wasnt a relationship type man. no, those were distracting and too intense for him. but yet, he invited you over again after exchanging numbers.

this was just casual sex, nothing more nothing less.

“you mean to fuckin tell me—“ he cuts himself off, pausing the show that you both were watching. “you ain’t never had your pussy eaten?”

“well.. no? thats bad?” you ask, taking a sip of the apple cider he brought from his fridge. “you cant get mad either, you haven’t either.”

“i had eaten something spicy, you want burnin’ pussy?” he retorts, taking a sip of water to cleanse his palette. “dont answer that, just lie the fuck back.” he shakes his head, softly pushing you back.

“sir, yes sir.” you joke, feeling his body weight hover over you and kiss your neck. you moan, feeling your shirt be pushed up and shorts be pulled down. he kisses your inner thigh, licking a long stripe up your bare clit— you pulling back for a second.

he peers up at you, heavy and lidded eye’s looking at you. “you good?” he asks, pausing all movement. you nod, feeling him hum and then slowly and softly kiss your clit again. you settle down, moaning his hero name, thats all you know him by.

“call me katsuki, hon’.” he mumbles in your pussy, spreading your lower lips apart and putting your clit in his mouth. he suckles on it like the sweetest candy he’s tasted, his cock starting to get harder by the second.

your breath is starting to hitch, a hand flying to his hair and gripping at the root. he grunts, eyes rolling back for a second and then hips bucking into the couch.

“fuck— mhm.. pull my shit, baby.” he groans, moving down your slit and putting your legs onto his shoulders. his tongue alone is making you clamp down on nothing, he can feel it.

your hips move on their own, grinding down against his lips and chin and he lets you use him, use him to make you feel good and cum on his face like no other. he takes pride in this, being the only one whos ever made you writhe in pleasure because of him.

“go ‘head, come on my face, mama.” and that only set you off, legs trying to close as your orgasm ripples through you in waves and he laughs, rubbing circles in your clit to add more to it. you try to close your legs, you try to push his hands away, only for him to swat at them. “aht aht, dont you fuckin’ go anywhere.”

you lie limp, feeling drained and youre trying to come down from your high and how good it feels to be devoured by him. “you said.. katsuki?” you whisper, and he finishes cleaning up the spit that dribbled down your cheeks and up your back.

“yeah.” he reiterated, pulling your shorts back up and patting your clothed cunt, watching you jerk.

katsuki bakugou wasnt into relationships, no, fuck that. he wasnt into the intense stuff and was damn sure not really intimate.

but yet, he finds himself liking the little things on social media, primarily tiktok. he hates the way people look so happy within relationships, some of them even being heros in different countries or even just here. but, he hates the way it gives him ideas, and brings a smile to his face.

ping!

he looks back at your messages, a small smile on his face and he feels his heart race—

the fuck was his heart racing for?

“do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” he replies back, feeling a pang in his chest, but it wasnt out of fear or anything. he watches the three bubbles pop up, and your response is all he wanted to read.

‘sure, surprise me.’

and he does, taking you to a michelin starred restaurant and making you order the most expensive thing. because he would feel bad if he only order the most expensive things, right?

“do you like it?” he asks, cutting into the steak that he ordered and watching you eat your food.

“yeah, i do. i just sometimes eat slow.” you reply, him nodding and then tapping his foot. “do you mind if i take it home?”

“… why would i be mad if you took food home, stupid?” he asks, like you just asked him if he claps with shitty hands.

“just askin..” you say, watching him wave over the waiter and ask for a box and the check. “we can split the bill if you want.”

he darts his eyes back to you, scrunching his face up and giving you a once over.

“what?”

“split the bill?” he asks, making sure he heard you right. you nod, and he nods with you. “give me yo fuckin’ wallet.”

“because i asked if you want to split the—?”

“did i speak japanese? give me your damn wallet.” he snarks back, snatching your wallet from your fingers and putting his metal card on the check book. “some damn split the bill.”

“well sorry..” you mumble, putting the left over food in the box.

“you can tell me how sorry you are later when we get home.” he suggests, an eyebrow raised at you and a smirk. “you can choose how much to tip.”

“deal.”

both of you could barely get up the stairs, him slamming you against the walls of the corridor that lead to upstairs, but hes already on his knees and shoving your panties to the side, spitting and licking on your pussy.

“wrap this around— yeah, good job.” he praises, holding you up by your legs and thrusting into your soppy walls. “fuck, yer tight tonight.”

your fingers pull at the root of his hair, open mouth moaning against his neck and kissing at it. you feel his groans reverberate in your body. “katsukiiii..” you moan, biting your lip.

“yeah, yeah, yeah, there ya’ goo..” he strews out praises, pressing his head against yours and kissing your neck back. “make me proud, thats it.”

“gunna cum.. gonna cum, kats—“ you say, feeling you clamp and feeling your walls contract against his walls of the house. he grunts, spilling his seed within the condom and growls in your neck.

“hey.. katsuki?” you asked, lying next to him in his bed. he opens his eyes, looking down to you.. “can i ask you something?”

“ask away.” he says, patting your rear and focusing in on you.

“why dont you ever kiss me?” you ask, he furrows his eyebrows, leaning up a bit.

“i do kiss you?” he retorts, something that he doesnt understand. the fuck were you talking about? he kisses you.. he kisses your neck, your head, your fucking pussy for crying out loud.

“yeah, everywhere but my lips.” you reject, sitting up and watching his movements.

he tilts his head for a bit, clicking his tongue. “thats just too intense and intimate for me. and, quite frankly, im not into it.” he admits, then he watches you frown. “what you frowin’ for?”

“we are literally laying in the bed, in nothing but boxers and a shirt and panties.” you remind him of your situation, the fuck did he mean it was ‘too intimate?’ “how can this not be intimate, but a kiss is?”

“this..” he circles to you and himself, “this is just casual fucking.” he tries to remind you, but he starts to grow agitated when you get up and start clothing yourself. “the fuck you doin?”

“this is just casual? but yet you took me on a fucking date.” you say, growing agitated and frustrated yourself.

“that was dinner, not a date.” hes starting to get annoyed, thats why he didnt do this shit often. “i am in no fucking bounds to you, youre not fucking special.” he says, running his fingers through his hair and breathing through his nose.

you stare at him, putting your shoes on and then grabbing your purse. “youre right, im sorry.” you say, grabbing your phone as well and then looking back to katsuki. “ill see you later, ‘kay?”

he stays quiet, getting up to open the door for you and then closing it behind. “for fucking christs sakes..”

he goes back to the king sized bed, closing his eyes and turning the television off. this night already went to shit, and he just wanted to sleep it off.

he wakes up the next day, he’s got another two hours before he goes into patrol. he figured he could just text you to come over, its a new day and apologize, have you stay for a couple hours until he came home and fix something.

“hey, you wanna come over and talk about it?” he typed, sending it to you and waiting for your reply.

twenty minutes had past, its weird. usually youd be up by this hour, but eventually you did respond a thumbs up, and he tided up the living room and waits on you.

“hey.” he gruffly says, letting you in and closing the door behind you. he smells something strong. “did you use incense or some shit?”

“no, its body spray.” you say, plopping on the couch and he smells it again, then it wakes him up even more.

“you wanna try again?” he asks, folding his arms and holding his scowl. “did you just come from someone else’s house?”

you stay quiet, staring at him. the fuck did he want from you?

“you fucked another guy?” he asked again, caging you in and staring into you. “because im not in the fucking mood for these fucking games.”

“am i not allowed to?” you ask, getting to his level as well and then matching his scowl. “im in no fucking bounds to you.”

“so you want to be fucking petty, thats what the fuck this is?”

“to the fuckin’ t.” you respond, grabbing your things and shoving past him. he grabs your arm, pulling you back and staring into your soul.

“who the fuck was it?”

“none of your fucking business, i didnt ask you about the bitches you be fucking that’s not me.” you retort, but it only deepens his scowl, into a face filled with venom.

“i dont be fuckin other bitches.” he growls, then scoffs when you laugh softly. “the fuck is funny?”

“you dont be fuckin other girls?”

“why the fuck would i?” he asks, putting his hands in the air in confusion. “you think i just spread my legs to anyone and everything?”

“wow, i must be so special to know and have that.” you snarkily say, walking to the door.

he groans in agitation and yells. “bitch, fuck you!”

“fuck you, too bitch!” you shout back as he makes his way to you and you slam the door behind you.

the fuck were you both even arguing for?

bakugou wasnt the same after that, he was more stressed at work, feeling the after effects of the argument and not hearing from you in weeks. its shown in the way he fights the villains on the job, a tad bit— no, alot more aggressively than usual.

and he wasn’t going out anymore, just work, gym, then home. he wasnt in the mood, he felt… alone, depressed, like he was missing something.

he had everything that hes had, so what could possibly be fucking missing?

he scrolls on his timeline, seeing that you posted another story at work. he felt his heart pang, a knee bouncing, and like he wanted to reach out.

was he seriously missing you right now?

he sucks his teeth, his head dropping and he’s feeling like such a fucking idiot. he felt it, like he couldnt go a couple of days without you. he needed relief, a certain one.

you both meet up at the bar, the same very place you met and then flirted hard. he watches you sit down, a new dress, huh?

you looked so damn gorgeous, it genuinely pissed him off.

“what do you want?” you ask, telling the bartender for a strawberry mimosa, your usual.

“i..” he tries to say, he hasnt done the whole ‘im sorry’ thing since highschool. “i was wrong.” he admits, staring back at you and watching your face. “was wrong fer callin’ you a bitch, and saying you werent special. and fer gettin’ mad that you slept with someone else.”

“hm.” you hum, tapping your foot and holding your drink. “ill let you in on a secret through the grape vine.” you say, watching him raise a single eyebrow.

“i didnt sleep with some other dude, it was your old cologne.” you say, watching his face contort into confusion. “you showed me an old cologne you used to wear when you were scrolling on tiktok with me. you were half asleep though.”

it all finally clicks when he remembers, and he rubs his face in pure embarrassment and anger. “im going to fucking kill you, bitch.” he says, not truly angry, but embarrassed.

you laugh, and his chest feels less tight. “im sorry for doing that, just tried to show you that what you said wasnt cool.”

“i respect that.” he says, drinking his moonshine.

“thats such a bitch drink..” you watch him swig, and he growls.

“says the one drinking a gotdamn mimosa.” he retorts, and you both finally have a good laugh after about thirteen minutes in.

he feels good, better.

katsuki bakugou wasnt the relationship guy, its too much for him.

but with the way he has you laying ontop of him, a discarded used condom in the trash bin next to his bed. he liked where he was at, the way the sun shined on your face and skin.. he pondered at the earliest hours of the morning. he didnt have to work today, that was good for him since he had you to spend time with. might even a plan a date for you tonight—

a date? the fuck?

he feels himself inclined to you, watching tiktok on the lowest volume so you dont awaken. he keeps seeing these couple tiktoks, watching how they go from tinder, to being married and shit.

could.. could that happen to you? he feels sick, like he was getting clammy and his heart pounded, a imaginative feeling that he finally proposes to you, gives you a couple brats that run around the house he just bought—

…aw fuck no.

“which dress fits me more?” you rummage through the hangers of dresses in the store, he only watches you and picks one out in particular. a split thigh dress with sleeves, since it was about to be fall. “oh, so you want my ass to fall out?”

“your ass aint going to fall out.” he chuckles, pulling it and putting it against you. “youd look good though.”

“would i really?”

he tilts your head up to his, looking into your eyes instead of your soul this time. “always.” he watches you get heated in the face, pulling away out of flustering and scramble to the next aisle.

once you finally start to check out everything, which was just a mere dress that he suggested and some more shirts, you pull your wallet out, just for him to slap it out of your grasps.

“the fuck?!” you say, picking it up and the cashier was already inserting his card.

“told you that when youre with me, i pay.” he reminds, taking the receipt and bag and then holding the door for you.

“did you have to slap my wallet out my hand, though? couldve been robbed!” you say, putting it back in your purse and grumbling.

“anyone trying to rob you infront of me is just stupid.”

“i guess..”

eventually when you got home, katsuki put the goods down onto the couch and then headed to the kitchen, cranking up the flames on his stove. “oh em gee, youre going to cook for me?”

“why did you say it like that, you dumbass?” he turns to you, a confused but laughing face. “yes, im cooking. you need to stop eating out as much.”

“i eat out maybe twice a week.” you say, and he purses his lips. “what? you saying im big?”

“i did not say that.” he growls, tossing the pan and sautéing the veggies. “what?” he asks, seeing your concerned face.

“you have no care for your pans or pots..” you say, watching his shrug and mock you. “on tonight’s episode of hells kitchen..”

“gordon ramsey wouldnt last thirty minutes with me.” he comments, shaking his head and sighing. “im the best cook.”

“no objections.”

and he was, making you a chicken bowl with rice, sautéed vegetables and toasted brioche bread. “thank you, katsu.” you say, the nickname rolling off of your tongue and you didn’t really think of it, but kissing his cheek.

he freezes, staring at you and an eye twitches.

“…what? did i have to brush my teeth after every meal too?”

“katsukii katsuki katsuki!” you moan out, legs pressed to your ears as he pounded away into your cervix. he growls into your ear and pulls you back up, flipping you onto your stomach and wrapping his arm around your throat, holding you in a headlock.

he groans, drilling his cock into your gummy spot that made you see stars like no other. this was more rougher, deeper, and fast paced than any other of your fucks. this one felt.. different.

all because of a fucking kiss on the cheek.

“katsuki!” you squealed strained, eyes rolling back and gritting your teeth trying to endure his cock inside of your fluttering walls.

“fuckin cum, beg me to let you cum.” he growls with venom, and desperation runs him completely now. he hears you, crying out his name and then fucking him back. “fucking god—hah!”

you cream along his shaft, his cock starting to twitch and he drags you up again, putting you back into missionary to slip away into your spasming cunt to just still inside and keep going.

“k-katsuki what are you?—“ he cuts you off by crashing his lips onto yours, a pang into your chest and arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer. he groans in the kiss, stopping his hips.

he pulls away, looking down to you with a narrowed gaze. “what?” you ask, his face getting a little bit softer.

“i dont want to just casually fuck with you anymore.” he says, getting closer to you. “think… think im in love with you.”

“..so.. because i have sex with you, youre in love with me?” you ask, his face dropping and he flicks your head. “ow— fucker!”

“no, stupid..” he says, “i like the moments we dont fuck. like dinner dates and the.. domestic shit i guess.” he says, biting his lip.

“so you admit that they were dates?” you snicker, and he chuckles in defeat.

“whatever you wanna call them, baby.” he says, but puts a hand on your cheek and. “i love you.”

you try to take it serious, but one factor. “can you tell me this without your cock being in me?” you ask, he shakes his head and pulls his hips back, allowing you to sit up.

“love you.” he says, his heart beating out of his ass.. or so it feels like it.

“i love you too, dummy.”

“now you fuckin ruined my moment.”

[dilfl0v3rss]

smart mouth

"you know better, but still choose to end up like this" with the last word of his sentence ony made sure to feed each and every inch of him down your throat, spit trickling down your chin as you gagged around his wide dick. your panties were soaked with your arousal, big brown eyes filled with hot, wet tears as you kept your sights on him alone. "gotta smart ass mouth on you, but daddy gon fix that real quick, aint he mama?" he said, his deep voice causing his chest to rumble as he continued moving your head back and forth onto him. he gave you a couple more strokes before pulling your mouth off of him completely, smirking as he watched you intake as much air as you could before exhaling over and over again, your lungs in a hurry to get familiar with the air its been denied.

you nodded at his previous question, giving him a mindless 'mhm' before moving hungrily towards is dick in efforts to reconnect the two of you, but ony was quick to stop you. he wrapped an inked hand into your hair, pulling your head back as he stared down at you condescendingly. "such a greedy girl, i got sum for you tho c'mere" his other hand found your throat, pulling your face up towards his until you were standing right in front of him before he pushed you flat on the bed. each of your thighs grabbed by dark, tatted hands as he pushed your legs towards your chest. the fabric of your panties began to tighten the closer your knees got to your face, giving ony the perfect view of your pussy through your bright pink thong.

he freed one of your thighs, lightly teasing your clit through your underwear with his thumb to draw those pretty moans he loved so much from your lips. "sound so sexy, makes me forget how dirty y'mouth could be." you ignored his words, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body fought with ony's other hand to arch off of the bed. of course you were of no success, bottom half practically glued to the bed by the strength of ony's one hand on your thigh. just the thought of it made you want him even more, your hands moving towards his abdomen to caress the inked skin. "unt uh mama no hands today, you been bad remember?" oh yea, this is a punishment. you're not sure how the thought slipped you or even what you did to end up here, but it was far too late to try to plead with him now.

you obediently moved your hand away, putting each of them over your head where they claimed a tight grip on the sheets. ony nodded at your compliance, seeing it as progress. his hand reclaimed its spot on your other thigh, pushing it down towards your chest as well before he slowly moved his dick towards your clothed heat, lightly rubbing his length up and down your center. you moaned at the contact, your grip on the sheets tightening as you chanted his name over and over. "i know ma." he continued his movements, moving a little rougher at times to keep you on edge, you were losing your mind under him. "p-papa please" you whined, his firm grip on your thighs still giving you no way to move to get any more than what he's giving you.

ony could tell what you wanted just by the look in your eyes, a devilish smirk spreading towards his lips as he played dumb. he tilted his head up towards you with a deep 'hmm'. "w-want you inside" you were in no position to make demands right now given that he was upset with you and literally had you pressed down into the mattress, but you thought it'd be worth a try. "want me in your tummy?" his voice was full of faux sympathy and you knew it, but your desperation outweighed your common sense, so you begged. "yes please please please daddy. want you t'fuck me now" ony chuckled at your neediness, rubbing even harder into you before bringing his lips down towards your neck. he completely ignored what you said as he sloppily kissed down your body, leaving small bites in some places until he were face to face with your clothed pussy. "m'not fuckin you t'night princess"

the whine you let out was less than a second before ony gave you a sharp tap to your heat, the wet patch in the fabric only growing as he left small kisses on your clit right after, stroking himself slowly as he teased you. the difference in affection made your head spin as you watching him slowly outstretch his tongue towards where he knew your entrance was, dark brown eyes staying trained on yours as he slowly dragged the muscle up up your center before sloppily eating you out through your panties. his tongue moved skillfully over the fabric, still licking and sucking you to the point where your legs shook. "fuck baby" you moaned into the air, back arching off the bed as you tried to grind your pussy onto his tongue. ony didn't give you the chance to, moving back just enough so you were met with nothing but air. a chuckle escaped his lips as he watched you huff and puff above him.

ony abruptly stood up in front of you, his hand still wrapped firmly around his dick as he stroked himself slowly above you. each of his groans only made you wetter as you watching him pleasure himself to the sight of you. "you so pretty ma, jus need you t'act right" your eyes followed his hand, his pace slow and steady. you were so desperate for him, but you knew not to move again since it was likely that he'll cuff you this time. "i-i will daddy, promise" his groans made you want him more and more, his broad chest rising and falling steadily as he looked at you needily. "gon stop talking back t'me n start being the good girl you know i want you to be?" he stroked himself faster, moving his thumb down towards your clit where he began to rub in quick, small circles. you moaned into the air, legs acquiring a slight shake as you nodded along to his words. "y-yes! whatever you want pa, p-promise t'be better" your release was approaching quickly and he knew that, moving his thumb faster to push you closer to the edge. you could tell he was close as well, his hand moving at a quick pace as his hips bucked every so often. at this rate he was going to make the both of you come at the same time, his hands working wonders for the both of you as he pushed you to the brink of your release. "okay, i hear you baby" a relieved sigh left your lips but that relief didn't last long. at the same time you noticed that ony was no longer pleasuring you. his other had was by his side as he alone met his release.

"but when i actually start seeing that attitude change then ill touch you how i know you want me to."

[divinelolita]

need more hard dom Tom x m!reader 🙏like readers being a brat n gets punished..🤤🤤

TOM KAULITZ X BRAT MALE! READER

cw: bondage, degradation, brat tamer! tom, bratty! reader, spanking, fingering, mentions of overstimulation, edging, brief mention of a 'sir kink'

a/n: hii! 😸 im too lazy to write aftercare but i promise you'd get the most ethereal, breathtaking, awesome aftercare from tom 🙏🏼🤗

"Baby, what on earth is going on with you today?"

Tom's exasperated voice echoed in your head as you both sat at a café table, Tom's cup of hot coffee whispering streams of smoke as he took a small sip.

You were...extremely difficult today. You were acting so rude, childish, and overall just a huge brat! He didn't understand...you were almost never like this. When you didn't immediately answer, your bottom lip sticking out further, he let out a small hum.

"Hmm? Answer me. I know you heard me." He demanded softly, watching your eyebrows furrow as you let out a little whine. He took in a deep inhale, he could feel the frustration and anger building up inside him. Lord, all he wanted was an answer.

When you kicked his leg under the table a little, he hissed softly in pain, his jaw clenching a little. Your pout almost faltered into a smirk, you knew you were getting on his nerves now!

"...I'm getting impatient, angel. Please, tell me what-" He began slowly, a hint of warning in his voice. He softly reached over the table to try to grasp your hand. His eyes widened a little as you swatted his hand away, followed by a, "Shut up!"

Oh. Oh.

"...that's it. Get in the fucking car." Tom ground out as he slammed his coffee mug on the table, little splatters of the beverage falling on the table as he stood up and stalked over to his car, starting it up. Your lips quirked into a small smile, it worked. But at what cost...

"You think you can act like that? Huh? I guess I have to knock some fuckin' respect in you."

Tom huffed as his hands roughly gripped your hips, pulling them to you were laying over his lap. You whined, hands struggling against the bindings on your wrists that were connected to the bedpost. You swallowed shakily, you couldn't see him. You didn't know what to prepare for!

"Stupid little slut...you just had to piss me off, huh?"

He murmured, moreso to himself as he firmly pressed down on your lower back, causing your thighs to tremble and for your ass to raise up in the air ever so slightly.

You yelped as a sharp, harsh spank was landed across your ass, a painful burn spreading across your skin as it turned a bright pink hue. You whimpered loudly as you squirmed in Tom's lap, yet his strong, large hand firmly took hold of your hip.

"Uh-uh. Bad boy. Stay still." He demanded as he left another harsh swat against your already burning flesh, making you yelp. Your thighs shook as you felt a familiar throbbing in your lower abdomen.

"Sir.." You hiccuped quietly. You felt his strong hand sliely massage your throbbing ass before he plants another smack over your cheek, yet it's softer than the past two.

The smacks continued until you were a sobbing mess in his lap, squirming and whimpering , repeating "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry" or "I won't do it again!" under your breath between sobs.

"I got'cha." He whispered quietly, his soft words instantly relaxing your tensed muscles. You tried to look over your shoulder as you heard a bottle lid pop, yet he tugged on your hair roughly back around. You whimpered, yet obeyed. What choice did you have?

You gasped as you felt a thick, cold finger gently run up and down your hole, circling it slowly before pushing in. A painful yet pleasurable spark ran through you as his lubed finger slowly pushed inside, a small whine escaping your lips.

He hummed, placing a small kiss to your plump ass as he began to croon his long finger inside you, trying to find the spot that has you writhing against him. When his calloused fingertip eventually found the spongy material of your prostate, your whole body jerked as you nearly screamed.

"There- right there, sir!" You pleaded as your hands cxlenched into fists against the ropes around your wrists. You heard him chuckle behind you softly, you could practically hear the smirk on his voice.

"Such a needy whore..." He whispered as he squirted a little more lube over your hole before pressing a second finger in. He smirked as he heard you hiss, the sting burning yet so euphoric feeling at the same time. His thick, long digits began to curl inside you, fingertips rubbing your prostate with expert precision.

You were sobbing loudly, hips grinding desperatley into Tom's lap as he fingered you, it felt so fucking good! You felt a knot tie in your stomach, your prostate throbbing roughly against Tom's fingers.

As soon as he felt you begin to clench down on his fingers, he quickly pulled them out of your tight hole. He laughed quietly as you whined and gasped at the loss, crying loudly as you hiccuped.

"Awh...my poor baby. Only good boys can cum, and you have to prove you should be able to...have you sobbing in my lap begging to cum, like the pathetic little thing you are."

He purred, raising a firm eyebrow. "Or maybe that's exactly what I'll do. Have you cum over and over until you're a dumb, drooling mess. Doesn't that sound fun?"

He cooed as his slick fingers slowly pushed back inside you. You gasped, whining as your hips bucked. You wondered which punishment rout Tom would go down...

[cheonstapes]

^^ Hello, how are you. Idk if this is the right place to send a request since I’m new to tumblr lol. I would like to make a request though it may seem a little weird. May I request Miguel O’Hara/Fem Spider-barbie reader. Reader’s outgoing and cheerful she has the aesthetic of a Barbie and gets along with other spiders, she’s not actual barbie doll btw lol. Miguel could be yelling and giving other spiders a hard time but whenever Spider Barbie’s around he’s the complete opposite. Spider barbie always helps calm him down whenever he loses his temper. Maybe one day he’s stressed and angry over a mission so spider barbie decides to calm him down with a back massage. Could also lead to some smut, only if you’re okay with writing that. No pressure. Thanks! ^^

miguel o'hara stars in... 'HI BARBIE! HI KEN!' ヽ(>∀<☆)

a/n ~ first request!!1!! i'm doing great, thank you so much. this isn’t weird at all- i spent all day writing this, it's so cute!! i had margot robbie's cowgirl fit in mind for reader when i was writing this, she's so beautiful omg, i think it suits spider-barbie's vibe really well💕 went a bit heavy with the smut but miguel's hot so it's valid- enjoy my love!

summary; miguel gets some stress relief from his favourite barbie girl.

pairing; miguel o’hara x fem!spider-barbie!reader

wc; 2.3k +

cw; SMUT!!, pining, oral sex, dry humping, facial, throat/face-fuckin, soft?dom!miguel, sub!reader, he's a lil mean but he loves you, praise kink, worshiping, hair pulling, miguel shouts at some people, f!masturbation, squirtinnn, miguel being sexy, NOT PROOFREAD!! i have a headache

“and you didn’t think to fucking report it to me?” miguel was seething, talons digging stripes into his desk as he glared down at the poor recruits below him. yes, they were new, but they fucked up an important mission- he wasn’t about to go easy on them. 

“por el amor de dios, do you three have any idea how serious this is? you could’ve-“  the spiders looked at each other, eyes of their masks comically wide as the drown out miguel’s rants to try and come up with some sort of excuse to justify the failed mission. “-and don’t even think about coming up with some bullshit excuse.” 

they froze, shaking their heads and hands rapidly as they nervously stuttered out, ‘no, of course not’, and, ‘we would never, boss’- miguel’s disapproving gaze boring holes into their masks, he jumps off the platform and stalks up to them. menacingly looming over them as his eyes flash red, lips pulled up in a snarl as his sharp fangs poke out under his top lip.

“don’t let this happen again, cause i swear i’ll-”suddenly, the doors of his lab slide open, a cheery voice ringing through the spacious room as all eyes flit towards the pink figure strutting in. the recruits blush under their masks, hearts beating rapidly at the sight of the sparkly spider- known across the spiderverse as the most perfect spider, spider barbie. 

“miguel? i brought you some lunch! oh- hi guys! sorry i didn’t mean to interrupt, i’m y/n, by the way.” you flash them a bright smile, glossy, plump lips glistening under the lights as you hold up the bag of food- the spiders wave frantically, greeting you with unmatched enthusiasm. miguel’s breath hitches at the sight of you, masking it with a roll of his eyes as he looks down at you- eyes softer compared to the harshness they had when looking at the recruits.

“it’s fine, y/n, we were done here anyway.” that was their cue to leave, the newbies scrambling to get out of the room, feeling the tension rising, but not without sending you shy smiles and whispered goodbyes you reciprocate with angelic kindness. miguel watches you intently, eyes locked on your every move. his eyes trail down the hot pink set you wore, the fat of your tits spilling out the tight top, curvy hips accentuated by the tightness of your flares - fuck, you are perfect.

he lets out a heavy sigh, his bulking frame towering over you as he takes the bag gently from your pretty hands, making sure to brush over them slightly. “what’d you get me this time, hm? empanadas again?” he has a crooked smirk on his lips as he opens the bag, his eyes still trained on you as you sit on the counter, the prettiest smile on your face. “actually, i got you some sushi this time. thought i should surprise you a little.” 

he allows himself to smile, the tension in his face easing in your presence. “yeah? how’d y’know i’d like sushi? you keeping tabs on me?” you giggle, stealing a piece of sushi from the platter. “wouldn’t you like to know. i asked lyla, actually, she’s very helpful.” his eyebrow raises, glancing over at the glowing hologram who appears to be lounging by the monitors, a small smile on her face hidden by a small magazine. 

“right, guess i’m gonna have to install a ‘keep your fuckin’ mouth shut’ feature now.” he mutters, secretly enjoying the thought of you knowing things about him he wouldn’t dare to tell anyone if they asked, relishing in the thread of connection you two share. you stand, moving around him to stand behind him, stretching up to grip his shoulders. 

“you ok, miguel? you seemed upset earlier.” you whisper in his ear, hands running down his arms innocently. he doesn’t think so though, the soft touch of your hands compared to his firm muscles igniting a tingling feeling in his belly - a soft groan leaving his parted lips as he leans into your touch. “‘m fine, the new recruits just pissed me off. nothin’ f’r you to worry ‘bout, pretty.” you smile slightly as he lets the pet name slip out, your hands running more sensually around his upper body, dipping into the crevices and curves of his chiseled body. 

“let me at least help you feel better, mig, your shoulders are tense as fuck.” you smirk playfully, leaning round his body to peer up at his face, eyes widening as you take him in. his eyes were slightly hooded, wetted lips open in pleasure, a faint tinge of red on his face. he looks down at you, panting softly as he sucks in a deep breath, nodding silently as he allows you to lead him wherever.

gently grasping his hand in yours, you lead him towards his large chair, sitting him down as you slide yourself in his lap. miguel’s head races with all sorts of thoughts, the tell tale sign of his arousal pressing against the crotch of your sparkling pants, his hands subtly moving you down to ease the ache in his lap. your lips pull into a empathetic pout, hands moving gracefully along the taut muscles of his shoulder blades, moving down to the ridges of his abs.

“how’s this feel? am i doing good?” the sweet tone in which you speak has him biting back a growl, his cock throbbing as he moves subtly against the plush folds of your cunt through the fabric. “ ‘s great, your- shit- your hands feel amazing, love. jus’…keep doing that, yeah?” you nod, biting your lip softly as you keep up your soft caresses. his head falls back against the chair, eyes closed in bliss- he looks so unbelievably handsome, sculpted jawline, high cheekbones, he’s just so mmh. 

you couldn’t help yourself, not when he was practically offering you a taste of him. his thick neck, littered with veins of various sizes, laid bare for you. you slowly moved in, small breaths warming the skin of his neck, heart pumping and hands trembling slightly. your glossy lips press light kisses on the flesh, shiny, pink, marks left behind. one hand moves up to rest on his chest as you feel a surge of boldness rush through you, leaning in once again to suckle on his skin. 

his eyes flit open, gazing down at you as you mark his neck with deep red and purple bruises, his hand lazily running up your spine as he grinds into you just a little harder. “hm? what happened to givin’ me a massage?” he flashes you a sexy grin, tilting his head at your ministrations- not that he minds of course.  you don’t respond, only small moans and whimpers leaving your lips as you continue to suck on his skin. his hand moves down to your chin, lifting your flushed face to meet his. “thought you were supposed to be makin’ me feel better? i can feel that pretty pussy soaking through y’r jeans, love. this turnin’ you on?” 

you nod, your beautiful face betraying your need for him. he lets out a deep chuckle, hands caressing your hips as he moves you to grind against him, the thin fabrics of both of your clothes letting you feel the engorged tip of his cock brushing against your clit. he breathes out a stuttered moan, gritting his teeth as he stares into your eyes, how could someone be so fuckin’ perfect? you had to have been made to torture him, to make his heart race and cock hard to every time he’s around you- hell, every time he thinks about you.

“miguel…” your whining snaps him out of his thoughts, his focus immediately zeroes back onto you. he pulls you closer, resting you against his bulky chest. “yeah? what’s up, baby? what d’you want?” his thumbs caress your nipples through the fabric of your top, the rough pads of his fingers making your pussy clench tightly, slick coating your puffy folds. you look up at him, hands pulling at the thin fabric of his suit. “i still wanna make you feel better…can-can i suck you off, please?” 

has he died? has miguel died and gone to heaven? or was this some kind of fucked up hell, there was no way he was hearing correctly. you, the sweet, innocent, barbie-esque, spider he’s been silently pining over for months now is asking him, so cutely, to suck his cock. he doesn’t think he’s been as eager to say yes to anything as he was now. he clicks a button on his wrist, his suit glitching away at his crotch. his cock is so pretty. a trail of dark hair leading down his navel, the tip a deep red, the rest tanned, throbbing veins wrapping around his length. it was fat, and shit, it was long too- pre dripping down the side of it as it, twitching the longer you stared at it.

your mouth waters, tongue darting out to lick your lips. your nimble hands wrap around his cock, a small gasp rings out in the room as your thumb runs along his tip, collecting the wetness and rubbing it around the tip. his fangs dig into his lips, speckles of blood pooling underneath the sharp tip. he sinks deeper into the chair, his suit dissipating more to reveal his thick thighs, a large hand coming to rest against one, the other caressing your cheek softly. “gonna wrap those pretty lips around me, baby? ‘m so hard, need you to make me feel better.” he didn’t expect to hear how needy he sounded, but he wasn’t embarrassed, he’s finally got you- and he wants you to know how badly he needs you.

he guides your head towards his aching cock, a hand moving to grip your hair tightly. he angles his length towards your shimmering lips, rubbing the tip all over, smearing his pre-cum along your gloss. a low, rumbling hum reverberates through his chest, quiet curses leaving his lips. he finally forces the fat head of his cock through your lips, simultaneously pushing your head down along the length of his cock. the sounds of you gagging fills his chest with a sense of pride, forcing you to take all of his thickness. it was so, so messy. saliva and creamy strips of cum dripped down the side of his cock, wetting your lips and pooling on top of his balls. he smiles at the sight, head lolling to the side, resting against a hard shoulder. 

“my pretty girl, can’t believe ‘m finally havin’ you like this. i- mm i would worship you, if you’d let me. you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, baby, a walkin’ goddess. and your lips, fuck, those perfect lips.” his mind is all scrambled, the feeling of you sucking the soul out of him rendering him a blubbering mess, resulting in him pouring his heart out to you. smiling around his cock, you look up him, those sexy eyes of yours gazing into his- a silent reciprocation of his affection towards you. at that, your lips suction around him faster, tighter, coaxing him into filling your mouth with his load.

his breathing deepens, sweaty chest heaving. at this point, his suit is gone. he doesn’t bother hold back his moans, deep growls and grunts that make curious spiders stop and listen in as they pass his lab, opting to not investigate what the big boss is up to further. but you, you’re a fuckin’ sight between his legs. mascara running down your hot cheeks, gloss, spit, and cum on your chin, running down your neck and between your cleavage. he didn’t think you could get even more beautiful, but here you were. 

“i’m ‘bout to cum, yeah? gonna fill that perfect mouth of y’rs with my all my cum, ‘n you’re gonna swallow it like the good girl i know you are, ok baby?” his hips buck frantically into your salacious mouth, holding the back of your neck tightly to keep you anchored at the base of his cock, the tip of his cock bumping against the back of your throat. his actions betrayed his sweet words, hands gently running over your face, wiping away stray tears as his cock abuses your poor throat. he catches a glimpse of you sliding a hand down the front of your pants, pushing aside your panties to rub against your sticky clit.

‘so cute’. he smiles, revelling in your soft whimpers and your shaky thighs- the squelch of the three fingers you plunged into you almost drowning out the slick gluck! gluck! gluck! of your throat. “fuck, baby, i can hear her from here. she’s so wet just from suckin’ me off, isn’t she?” your fingers speed up, his voice a sexy, deep drawl- lips quirked back up in a smirk, but it was short lived as he felt his balls tighten, orgasm threatening to take over him.

his leg bounces, your mouth was just so wet, so fuckin’ hot- he couldn’t take it anymore. he’s waited so long to feel you around him, to see you take him so beautifully. his body tenses, a low growl of your name leaving his plump lips. his cum spurts out in steady streams, your cheeks puffing out from the sheer amount he unloads into your mouth. it drips out the side of your lips, you struggle to hold it all in, letting it drip down your neck. 

you choke on the liquid in your mouth, your orgasm squirting out onto the cold floor of his lab. he laughs breathlessly, he was so whipped for you. watching his pretty, little, angel cum so perfectly for him. his cock lets out a few more spurts on your cheeks, twitching again when you struggle to swallow his load down. he wipes away the cum on your cheeks, dipping his thumb back into your mouth to let you lick the remnants off. he smiles softly, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you back onto his lap, running hands up and down your back lovingly.

“s-so, d’you feel better now?”

“mm, think there’s just one more thing i need. spread your legs f’r me, baby.”

*por el amor de dios - for the love of god

-gonna take a cold shower now

[nova-amor]

𓈒∘☁︎ ◜ 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 ◞

𝐜𝐰 — 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 [𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥], 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱(?)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 𝟏.𝟐𝐤

"hey, so sorry, i missed your call, i'll get back to you as soon as possible. thanks!" beeeep.

simon smiled at the sound of your heavenly voice through the phone, the fabric of your pajama shirt balled in his large fist and clutched close to his chest. he lay sprawled out across his bed, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, lazily watching the ceiling fan spin around. he had just dropped you off at the airport, another blissful weekend spent together having concluded much too soon for his liking.

"hey, lovey," his rough voice spoke into the phone, his tone soft and oozing with love that he reserved only for you. "you left one of your shirts here, figured you'd want to know before you spiral when you get home and can't find it."

he sat up, pressing his phone to his ear with the support of his shoulder. simon spread the shirt across his lap, thick fingers tracing along the graphic lettering, "you're probably on the plane already, which probably's why you didn't answer, you're not one to ever miss one of my calls,"

it was a shirt that he had bought you after a metal concert that you had dragged him to. the shirt was an extra large, ridiculously large on your short frame and, yet he simply adored seeing you in it whenever he got the chance. "i already miss you, baby girl, can't wait to see you in a few weeks, don’t know how i’m gonna sleep without ya," he probably sounded a little pathetic— filling your voicemail box with whispers of love. completely unlike his usual cold, stand-offish behavior. "it's gettin' late and i gotta wake up early in the morning... so i'll let you go. love you, baby girl."

with a heavy heart, simon hung up the phone, tossing the device off the side before getting up. he followed his usual evening routine— shaving the five o'clock shadow he grows on the weekends, showering, brushing his teeth, and going over final notes before the next morning's debrief. he settled in bed, the screen of his phone illuminated in the darkness of the room as he scrolled through the pictures you two had taken that weekend.

a lot of the photos consisted of you— bright-eyed and smiling at the camera, the depths of your devotion and love for him evident even through the camera. the soft sheets of his blanket rubbed against his bare thighs, cock stirring between his legs as he longingly stared at a photo of you in a baby pink babydoll dress. the lace edges of the dress reached the tops of your thighs, your thighs pressed together to conceal what was underneath while you leaned forward, breast practically spilling out from the confines of the dress.

his sheets still smelled of you, the lingering sweetness of your perfume and hair products etched into every fiber of the pillow covers and blankets. against better judgment, simon dialed your phone again, fully expecting to be greeted by your voicemail again.

"can't go to sleep, lovey," simon breathed out, resting his phone atop his pillow as he set the microphone close to his lips. he stared up into the darkness, peeling back his covers. "everythin' smells like ya, makin' me go fuckin' crazy and yer not even here to help," he breathlessly chuckled, his thick fingers wrapping around the hilt of his cock.

"fuck, just thinkin' about ya is gettin' my dick hard," simon rolled his hips loosely into his tight fist, squeezing his cock hard with each languid pass over his flushed cock head. "got me fuckin' my fist, wishin' it was yer hands, especially that sweet mouth— fuck, baby girl, ‘m obsessed with yer mouth—got me missin' the sounds ya make, the little moans ya let out when my dick bullies your throat, how yer throat clenches around me when ya chokin' on me."

simon's other hand finds the cotton fabric of the shirt you had left behind, lifting it to his nose. he inhales your scent deeply, allowing it to overfill his lungs as his cock twitches in his heavy hand. "got me thinkin' about the cute faces ya make when i'm driving my dick into ya, holding onto yer hips— the gasps ya make when my dick kisses yer cervix, got ya barely able to breathe when i'm buried so so deep inside that pretty pussy."

"ya remember this mornin'? when i split ya open with my fingers, coaxing every sweet little whine and plea from ya until ya became a soppin’ mess. too fucked dumb, pussy walls milkin' my fingers until yer were gushin'— fuckin' squirtin' all over my hand."

the speed of simon's strokes grew faster, easily gliding up and down his length with the help of his pre-cum. he was close— so painfully close, he just wished he could cum inside you like he did that morning. "bet my cum's still drippin' out of you— stainin' them lips with my seed after i fucked you nice and slow. etching my cock into ya pussy so that ya always remember me. best pussy i've ever fuckin’ had, the way ya body twitches and arches into me when i hit all em sweet spots," simon’s face starts tingling, getting closer to his peak. “no one will ever fuck ya as good as i do, no one will ever be able to. i own that fuckin’ cunt, ya pussy’s mine, baby girl. just like ya said while creamin’ all over me this mornin’: always and forever, lovey.”

your shirt laid across the upper half of his face, covering his eyes and nose. he could practically feel you— the warmth of your skin against his, the thickness of your arousal dripping onto him, the softness of your hands massaging his aching muscles as he pressed his cock into the tight ring of your cunt. fully succumbing to the tight, wet heat between your legs that felt like home to him.

"f-fuck, so close, lovey," he groaned into the phone, every nerve in his body set a flame. his pace quickened, his cock jackhammering in his fist. "so fuckin' close, miss that sweet pussy— miss grippin' them hips as ya take my cock like the good girl ya are,"

simon bit his lip, drawing blood as his teeth sank into the delicate flesh. "yer my good girl, right, lovey? all mine... all fuckin' mine, miss hearin' ya say it, my body's achin' f' ya," the pit of his stomach tightened, squeezing the air from his lungs. "f-fuck, baby girl, g'na cum.. g'na cum f' ya, fuck!"

simon's hips stuttered as his orgasm washed over him— muscles tensing, jaw going slack, eyes rolling back into his skull. he swore he could see heaven, the faint taste of your arousal filling his senses as he recalled the musky flavor he was addicted to. his cum stained his abdomen and his knuckles, skin stained white with thick ropes.

“holy fuck,” simon whispered to himself, completely forgetting the phone call. “came so hard f' ya, baby girl, wish it was in ya. i'll call you tomorrow, need t' clean up over here. love ya and that little cunny.”

as simon ended the call, he leaned over to turn his bedside lamp on, the warm light briefly blinding him. he cleaned himself with a nearby jacket, he planned to do a load of laundry tomorrow afternoon anyway. as he tucked himself back into bed, turning off the lamp and muscles completely relaxed in the post-nut euphoria, his phone buzzed. the screen lighting up with an image of you.

"you're right," you whispered into the phone, the faint squelching sound of your fingers deeply plunging in and out your pussy catching simon's attention. his cock rose to life again, aching as your breathy moans filled his ear. an incoming facetime call appeared on his phone, a smirk tugging at his lips. "your cum's still drippin' out of me, wanna see?"

[hanbinics]

✧.* BINNIE'S BOO FEST | DAY 07.

HALLOWEEN '24 [based off these prompts]

!fratboy chris x !crybaby reader

⟶ warnings: 18+ MDNI. smut, oral (both m and f receiving), yes it's 69 position.

a weak mewl leaves your throat, your mouth stuffed with chris’s cock. you don’t know how, but you manage to leave your lips sealed around his shaft, although your rhythm falters when his teeth brush against your slick cunt. he’s using his entire fucking mouth to eat you out, the bet you’d made earlier only spurring on his competitive side, and while you had thought it was a good idea in the moment, now you’re on the brink of tears with just how good he’s eating your pussy.

only ten minutes earlier were you seated on chris’s lap, exchanging hot and heavy touches in the midst of your make-out session, but it didn’t last long. he’s never been a fan of just kissing, at least with no end game, and before you knew it, he was ridding you of your skirt and panties, your clothed core brushing over his erect cock as he fisted himself in one hand, ready to sink into you—only you had stopped him.

the brunette had looked up at you with his brows drawn together, an irritated tint to his expression. “what, kid? y’not wet enough?” he’d asked, but it had come laced with sarcasm, those furrowed brows then raising as he glanced down at your damp panties as if to accentuate his point.

your cheeks burned at his bluntness, shaking your head. “no,” you answered in a huff, hands tightening on his shoulders, “’jus don’t wanna be on top.” you shrug as you mumble your answer, but chris snorts from beneath you, mouth falling open a bit.

“you kiddin’ me?” he breathes out, but when you glower down at him, he scoffs. “and why do i always gotta do all the work, huh? think you don’t have to work for this dick, princess?” he asks you, but the name falls from his pink mouth sarcastically, and your glare narrows even more.

that’s where your compromise had come from—whoever stops giving first, is a loser. and the loser has to be on top. you’d been confident about it at first, accepting his little deal with a small smirk and bright eyes—chris loves getting his dick sucked—but you’d underestimated just how much you loved having the pretty boy between your thighs.

still, you try to concentrate on squeezing the base of his shaft with your fingers, gaining that momentum back as you ease him in and out of your mouth, quickening your pace as you listen to him grunt against your sticky cunt, a small smile of satisfaction quirking the corners of your mouth upwards. only, when his balls begin to tighten in your other hand, you suddenly feel chris’s stubbly chin graze over your clit, the feeling surprising you so much that you immediately gasp out a moan, his cock being released from your mouth with a slick pop that would make you blush in embarrassment if you weren’t reeling from the fact that you just lost.

immediately, chris’s glistening mouth parts from your fluttering pussy, a grin stretching across his mouth as he delivers a quick slap to your ass still sitting so pretty in his face. “that’s fuckin’ right baby—i won,” he celebrates from behind you, leaning forward to press a quick, open-mouthed kiss to your eager cunt before he’s helping you off of him, a smirk on his mouth when he takes note of your souring expression.

“that’s—s’not fair!” you whine in response, your mouth hanging open indignantly for a second. “you never keep your facial hair.. you know how much i like it,” you huff out, but it’s just like him to use that to his advantage.

the brunette shrugs his shoulders smugly, kissing the back of his teeth with his tongue as he tuts, “didn’t say shit was gonna be fair, kid,” he chuckles, already leaning back against the pillows with one arm resting behind his head, the other finding your hip so that he can help guide you to his lap, a smirk on his face as you begin to sink down on him, clearly fighting against a whimper threatening to replace the pout on your puffy lips.

“now get to work, pretty girl.”

a/n. i randomly thought of this idea after seeing one of my other works had 69 notes lmao. inspiration really do be hitting at any time.

©hanbinics

: ̗̀➛ tag list: @blahbel668, @zayluvss

: ̗̀➛ divider by @/saradika-graphics

[soullessdianthus]

Pervy!Rudy pls? I don’t see much for him but godddddd I need it

A/N: JESUS FUCKIN' CHRIST, you can't imagine how loud I screamed and kicked my feet, when I saw this request! I like Rudy so much, he deserves more attention! For sure will write for him more! Some headcanons and a little story at the end!

Warnings: perverted mind, but Rudy is a possessive softie, nsfw (masturbation, scent kink, touching under the table, some dirty convos in Spanish?, inappropriate dry humping to warm reader)

✧°. Rudy is very aware of his perversion. He knows he shouldn’t imagine doing anything deviant with you or it shouldn’t make his manhood painfully hard. He was way beyond that age of sudden boner because of a girl. 

✧°. But since you had been transferred by your superior to be stationed with Los Vaqueros, Rodolfo couldn’t keep his eyes or thoughts off of you. Somehow every interaction with you became exciting, intoxicating even, making his heartbeat go faster. 

✧°. Especially in the evenings that were lonely, when everything slowly quietens down, soldiers going back to their dorms after a long day. Perv!Rudy would lie in his bed, staring at the ceiling or trying to focus on a book, but the uncontrollable desire forces him to recall your last interaction with him, when one of his palms sneak under the hem of sweatpants onto his throbbing dick. Rodolfo just needed to get rid of that tension and fantasies of you were the only solution! :(

✧°. He could picture your face really well, the sound of your voice and laughter. Also those whimpers or heavy breathing while on a mission that caused you to be so exhausted. 

✧°. Perv!Rudy would like to make you tired in a different way though. He would show you how beautiful you are and how good care he would take of something that was completely his. 

✧°. Your person had become a sort of one, big fantasy of his, since your presence brought him comfort on a daily basis. You were so kind and sweet to him – sitting with him and Alejandro in the canteen, politely listening to their stories or tacky jokes.

✧°. At some point Rodolfo offered to teach you Spanish. Of course you knew some, but weren’t fluent and it might come handy while being in Mexico with them. Obviously he suggested such a deal to spend more time with you. 

✧°. And not long after, you two were walking everywhere together. If not interrupted by Alejandro, of course.

✧°. “Quiero agarrar tu culo, chiquita. [sp.: I want to grab your ass, little girl]”

✧°. “You want to… my… sorry, what? I don’t know those words, Rudy.”

✧°. “Don’t worry. You will.” 

✧°. He tried to be sneaky about his dirty remarks, but Rodolfo missed the point in time, when you began understanding conversations in Spanish. He noticed only when he said something similar again and your cheeks flushed bright pink. But it was just a silly joke, right? 

✧°. Perv!Rudy was hypnotized with your smell – he couldn’t determine if it was a detergent you washed your clothes with or a body wash that cleansed your soft, smooth skin from the dirt. If he only got a chance to stand close to you, he would discreetly inhale the scent of your hair. 

✧°. Perhaps, when he was standing right behind you, correcting your posture as you aimed forward at the shooting range, his head leaning over your shoulder to devour the sweet scent of yours.

✧°. And it got him thinking, what would your pussy smell like? What would your juices taste like on his tongue? Divine for sure. <3

✧°. Perv!Rudy would be strong on “marking his territory”. If you ever mentioned that you were cold near him, he would give you his hoodie without hesitation or doubt. The sight of you in the oversized clothing — a belonging of his, drenched with his scent and sweat would make Perv!Rudy go feral.  

✧°. Due to his hospitality and kindness it didn’t take long before you fully trusted the sergeant major. You didn’t mind his touches, even when he kept his hand over your shoulder or back almost all the time. His touch was warm and gentle. Always. 

✧°. You weren’t uncomfortable even when he began to playfully squeeze the plush of your thigh under the canteen’s table like it was his stress ball. 

✧°. Because Rodolfo is a thigh man, you cannot convince me otherwise. If you ever happen to wear thigh socks around him, he would pass out from euphoria.

✧°. One time, he saw a basket filled with your clean clothes and a certain pair of panties caught his attention. You left the laundry room for a moment as one of your friends pulled you out for some gossip. Perv!Rudy hesitated for a while before he snapped those panties from the clothes pile and tucked them into his pants’ pocket. 

✧°. Later that evening he would inspect the cotton material, pouring between his fingers, before wrapping it around his pulsating and leaking shaft. Rodolfo would pump hips into his own fist, thinking what you would look like, sitting here beside him and helping Rudy with his aching erection. :( 

✧°. He needed your help so badly – your innocent looking eyes glued to his face, waiting for further instructions on how to satisfy Sergeant Parra by stroking his thick, meaty shaft. 

✧°. Lately, while a mission went very, very wrong – you found yourself and Rudy being taken down the river by its stream. You managed to pull yourself and Rodolfo out of the agitated waters. 

✧°. Your clothes were soaked, tightly fitting to your feminine figure and the loud gasps you took for air – it was the first thing Rudy registered after you pulled him out of the river. He felt your hand pressed against his chest as you coughed out some water. 

✧°. Perv!Rudy was more than grateful and he couldn’t wait until there was a possibility to show how much he appreciated it. Sergeant found an abandoned cabin in the nearby woods – it was your camp for the night, as the dusk had fallen. 

And, oh no! Your walkie talkies were destroyed by the water! You had to wait until the rescue team would find you!

You were walking back and forth between one wall and another, trying to warm up. Every piece of clothing you and Rudy had on was drenched, the chilly air of the night only worsened the feeling of cold. 

A strong shiver shook your body and arms entangled around your torso, while his gaze was stuck on your trembling form. He was getting worried. 

━ We should take those clothes off and let them dry. ━ Rodolfo was older than you and therefore more experienced in crises like this. You knew he was right, but somehow hesitated for a moment, before removing your tactical vest.

━ Yeah, but wouldn’t it be… um, weird? 

You expressed your worries, you didn’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable! Just as you placed the gun holster and vest on the old, dusty table, next to his gear and weapon, the sergeant stepped closer. 

━ ¿Por qué? ━ Rudy asked, before pulling your long sleeved shirt through your head as you obediently raised your hands in the air. It took every inch of his willpower not to roam over your exposed chest with his palm. ━ If we go in the hypothermia, we’ll be dead in the morning. Nothing weird here, chiquita. 

He was right, the nights in Mexico during winter were cold and you just got out of the river. You had no extra clothes and starting a fire was off the table. 

Both of you continued stripping until all you had left was your underwear. Out of curiosity you took a look at his almost bare form, only his boxers covering some flesh. Rodolfo gathered some old blankets he found in the abandoned cabin and placed them on the floor.

Meanwhile you felt helpless – there was nothing more to do to warm yourself up. Your only option here was a walking radiator in front of you, your comrade Sergeant Parra. You stalked his movements as he moved through the room, placing blankets down. And before you knew, he was reaching his hand in your direction.

━ Ven aquí [sp.: Come here]. ━ Rudy slid himself under the big blanket, before inviting you to join. 

You didn’t hesitate for long, before laying down next to Rodolfo. You turned your back to him and grabbed the edge of the blanket, trying to keep the warm within its space. 

A little gasp escaped your mouth, when Rudy wrapped his bulky arm around your waist and pulled you into his muscular chest. His stomach was tightly clinging to the small of your back, his head almost leaning over your shoulder. The short hairs all over his thighs tickled your own limbs. 

━ You’re shaking. ━ He noticed with a worry audible in his voice. With your body pressed to his, he could feel each spasm of a muscle that indicated your early stage of hypothermia. 

━ I-It’s okay, I will w-warm up in a mi-minute. 

You were the textbook example of a woman with low blood pressure and freezing cold hands. You were almost always cold, but in a situation like this it only meant troubles – you couldn’t warm up properly. 

━ Shit, we got to do something about his, no? Don’t want you to freeze here, chica.  

Rudy’s arm that was entangled around your waist, reached down to the hem of his boxers. He took out his cock and began stroking it just like he liked it. Like he always did when thinking of you. 

━ R-Rudy, what are you…

━ Shhh ━ Rodolfo silenced you, his cheek resting a little higher than your temple ━ trust me on this one. 

When the sergeant finally was hard and aroused enough, he placed his cock between your soft thighs, so high up it clung tightly to your clothed pussy. You shifted slightly, but Rudy placed his hand on your hip, keeping you in one place.

He began slowly rolling his hips, sliding between your clenched thighs. His erect cock was almost pushing between your folds to rest between them.

━ R-Rudy, mhm. ━ You whimpered as the warmth of arousal slowly began spreading through your cold body. 

━ It feels better, yes? ━ Rodolfo asked, proud of himself and thanking the God for creating such circumstances where he could finally make you his girl. You only nodded weakly. ━ I need you to tell me, how does it feel now?

━ I-It feels g-good.

Rudy released your hip as it didn’t seem you would wriggle away now. He sneaked a hand through your hip and pubic bone to slightly pull the material of your panties to the side. Only then he could continue rubbing against your bare core, sliding easily due to your arousal. 

The tip of his cock was repeatedly teasing your swollen clit with the firm thrust of his hips. You let Rodolfo gently rock your body in a suitable rhythm. 

━ That’s right, just relax, bonita. Let me warm you up. 

Only when Rudy praised you, you managed to relax, feeling each limb more heavy and slack. His arm entangled around your waist again, the man’s palm making its way under the bra you were wearing. He wanted to play with your pretty breasts, that were tempting him for so long. 

You began to mewl and moan, when suddenly approaching your sweet climax. Your hand reached backwards to grab Rodolfo’s short hair, his heavy panting audible in your ear. 

With each thrust he kept slapping his front against your plump bum. Once he even released your breast to slap your jiggling ass and admire the red mark in the shape of his hand.

━ Rodo-oh-lfo! I’m gonna… ━ you squeezed your eyes shut, before any tears could escape them. Your little whimpers became almost pathetic ━  please. 

━ Good girl, come on, come on. You can do this. 

With a few more thrust against your sensitive nub with his throbbing cock, you felt the strong wave of ecstasy washing over you, causing the back of your head to dig into Rodolfo’s shoulder. 

Soon after you, he followed and reached sweet orgasm too – his length spasming and spurting cum onto your cunny and thighs. 

When you both began to calm down after sharing a sexual high, he turned you around to make you face him. Rudy couldn’t stop admiring your flustered face, lips slightly swollen and red. He traced their outline with his thumb, before peppering your cute face with kisses. 

Rodolfo kept your body flush to his, so no body warmth would waste as he kept praising you for being a good girl for him. He would watch over you while the side of your face sank into his chest muscles and you drifted off to sleep. 

Now, when you were properly heated, he didn’t have to worry about you getting yourself into hypothermia.

[nonranghaes]

heads up! alcohol mentions (reader was drinking with coworkers before fic.)

the moment you walk into your apartment, you hear the immediate sounds of yelling. you stop where you are, looking at where your boyfriend is sitting on your couch, cheeks burning red while all of his friends are cackling around him. he sinks into the couch, notably avoiding your gaze as he pulls his beanie down tighter over his head. you've seen donghyuck be loud with his friends regardless of your presence, but shy? over you coming home?

"you can't hide it anymore!" mark yells, pushing donghyuck's shoulder. "you gotta show them!"

oh, this is gonna be good. you slip out of your work shoes and into your house slippers, stepping up and making your way forward. there's a slight uneasiness in the way you walk, still slightly tipsy from the few drinks you had with your coworkers to celebrate the end of the work week. you spot the way renjun looks up from his phone, about to move when donghyuck darts off the couch toward you.

you don't need him to steady you, but you think it's sweet all the same. "hi, baby," you giggle. "what are you showing me?"

"nothing," he says with the tiniest pout. "it was dumb."

you stare at him. "... a tattoo?"

"no!" donghyuck shakes his head, "nothing that permanent. just..." he sighs, one arm wrapped around you still as he reaches up to yank his beanie off. he winces, apparently having yanked his own hair in the process, but you're too busy staring at the bright pink mess to check on him.

what? when... how? you stare at him, dumbfounded for a moment. but you know who won whatever bet resulted in this. "renjun."

immediately you hear mark cackle. "see! see! i fuckin' told y'all, they were gonna know!"

you'll have to hear the story from him later. you just snicker a little more, wrapping one arm around his neck. "donghyuckie?" you put on a playful pout. "can they go? i'm sleepy."

it is late at this point, and your boyfriend just wraps his other arm around you to tug you in closer. he rests his cheek against you, looking back at his friends. "guys, it's kinda late-"

sure enough, they all agree to go their separate ways--even if it does net donghyuck an eye-roll and a comment that he's whipped for you. soon, the apartment is empty aside from the two of you, and he just stands there to hold you for a minute longer.

"does it look good?"

"everything looks good on you, silly." you peck the tip of his nose. "can we cuddle? i missed you today."

and he just chuckles, holding you close. "yeah," he says, voice a little raspier now, "we can cuddle. i missed you, too."

[dewdrops-whammy-bar]

Tenth Drink Free

Chapter 1/10: Heart 1721 words

Dewdrop is a barista in a college town. He’s sworn off romance for the time being- he doesn’t have time for it. He’s an adult with a job, he doesn’t have time for dating and inevitable heartbreak. Until a hot nursing student with an ass to rival the gods walks in. Oh fuck. And he’s got puppy eyes. Oh FUCK. A story told in the space of nine coffee shop purchases and a freebie.

Behold, the quinessential (no pun intended) coffee shop au that every fanfic author writes eventually. I need hot nursing student Aether and pathetic sopping wet barista Dew to have gay t4t sex.

I don't have a set upload schedule but if you want to be added to a taglist lmk in the comments!

Read below or on AO3!

Dew cracks open his energy drink with his teeth as his other hand haphazardly pulls his apron over his head. The strap catches on the butterfly clip holding his hair back and yanks it out of place. Dew hisses in pain as it tugs on his hair and manages to catch it before it hits the floor.

“Hungover again?” Cirrus asks sympathetically as she passes with a tray of pastries. Dew grunts and shakes his head.

“Nah. Couldn’t sleep.” It’s only semi-true, he’d in fact been having a marathon of 80s horror movies. He’d awoken to Rain slinking out of his room at 11 to make coffee, leaving only thirty minutes to throw on clean clothes before he had to be at work. Luckily the little cafe tucked between a furniture store and a Mediterranean restaurant was only a fifteen minute walk from his apartment. The benefits of living in a college town, he supposes.

“I can let you off early so you can go home for a nap,” Cirrus offers. “Tuesdays are slow in the afternoons anyway.”

“That would be amazing, thanks Cir.” Dew sighs and takes a sip of his energy drink. He bends the tab of the can up, clamps it between his teeth, and pulls his hair back. Wrapping it into a loose bun, he secures it with the butterfly clip and retrieves his can from its precarious position.

“You’re gonna chip a tooth like that,” Swiss provides unhelpfully from his place at the sink. “And god knows if the dental insurance here will cover that.”

“I’ll be fine.” Dew rolls his eyes. “Focus on those muffin pans, dish boy.”

Swiss flips him a soapy middle finger, but Dew has turned and walked out of the kitchen by then. He downs about half of his red bull, stifles a burp behind his hand, and taps Aurora out at the register.

“Ohhh, thank god.” Rory sighs, dropping her customer service face. “There were two Karens half an hour ago. One right after the other. Fuckin’ exhausting.” Her bright pink lipstick is slightly smeared, evidence of her bad habit of chewing on her lips. “I need a drink…”

“It’s noon. Go steal a croissant from the kitchen instead. Thanks for putting me in the line of fire, by the way.” Dew rolls his eyes playfully. “Go smack Swiss’s ass for me.”

“Yessir!” Rory gives a two-finger salute before scurrying off into the kitchen. Dew sighs and resigns himself to the following hours of tedious interaction. A moment later, there’s a squawk from the kitchen followed by a squeal from Aurora.

A chai latte, a caramel macchiato, two vanilla lattes, two drip coffees, an Italian soda, and a needlessly complicated order that Dew can’t even begin to remember later, he’s only a quarter of the way through his shift. At least it’s a quiet day. The regulars from the local college usually come in before classes or on weekends to study.

Dew props his elbow on the counter and rests his chin in his hand, letting his mind wander. He’s been saving up for a cool guitar pedal and managed to find it on Ebay for half the price, but he is in a bidding war for it. He’d sneak a peek at the listing on his phone while the cafe was relatively quiet but he’d left it in his bag. Shit.

He straightens up, cracks his back, and begins reorganizing the supplies behind the bar. His fingers are getting twitchy from the caffeine kicking in. He curses his health insurance for not covering ADHD medication so he can actually function as a person. Or mood stabilizers. Or even therapy.

The door swings open again as Dew is cleaning the steam wand on the espresso machine. He sets the wet rag on the counter and turns to see- oh wow. His grumpy mood is instantly forgotten.

An absolute Greek god of a man stands near the doorway, scanning the drinks menu. He’s tall, built like a brick wall with just the right amount of chub, and- from what Dew can see- an ass to die for. If he were a slightly weaker man, he would vault over the counter, drop to his knees, and choke himself unconscious on that man’s dick.

He shifts his weight and bites his tongue in annoyance. Stupid fucking high libido. He doesn’t have time to be creaming his pants at work. He’s not above using his break to jerk off in the bathroom, though…

Someone clears their throat. Big Sexy (as he’s decided to call the man) stands before him, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Oh, are you ready to order?” Dew asks, hoping to any higher powers above and/or below that he hadn’t been staring.

“Yeah. Can I get a… actually, what do you recommend?” Big Sexy asks, cocking his head adorably. Dew feels hypnotized by his dark blue eyes. “This is my first time here, I’ve been meaning to check it out for a while but kept forgetting.” He shrugs apologetically.

“Oh- yeah,” Dew stammers a bit. “I, uh, my go-to is a cold brew with hazelnut syrup and about half of one of those creamer cups.” He points at the side counter where a small shelf holds straws, sugar packets, and other extras. “You could add more cream if you want, I just like it a little bitter.”

I wonder what his cream tastes like, his horny brain supplies helpfully. Dew gives that part of his brain a mental smack and turns his attention back to Big Sexy.

“Alright, I’ll have that. Medium, please.” Big Sexy reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. Dew enters the order into the register, glad to pull his eyes away from Big Sexy’s.

“That’s $4.25.” Dew grabs a clear cup from a stack and jots down the order as Big Sexy swipes his card. “And can I get a name for the order?”

“Oh- Aether. A-E-T-H-E-R.” Big Sexy- Aether replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Aether…” Dew mumbles to himself as he scribbles down the name. “Sick name. Your parents must’ve been cool.”

“Actually, I uh- I named myself. Had a weird phase when I was 15 and it kind of… stuck.” Aether seems a little embarrassed by this, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dew pauses for a moment to consider this information. Aether could just be a nickname, or… well, Dew had renamed himself at 13. There could be a possibility that Aether was trans, just like him, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Instead he turns to begin making the drink.

“I’ll have it for you in a minute,” he tells Aether, physically restraining himself from sneaking another glance at those pretty blue eyes. That would have been weird, and he really doesn’t want to scare this guy off.

Dew finishes making the coffee almost on autopilot. He wants to ask questions- was he a student at the local college? If yes, what did he study? Did he have a private dorm room? Would he be willing to fuck Dew until-

Good lord, get your shit together. Dew thinks, giving his head a shake. Your break’s in half an hour. You can fantasize then.

He slides the finished drink across the counter with a little creamer cup on top. “Aether? Here ya go.” He didn’t really need to call out the order name since there wasn’t anyone else waiting, but he liked saying it. Aether. Ay-ther. It was a cool name.

“Thanks, uh…” Aether’s eyes dart down to Dew’s nametag. “Dew. That’s, ah- that’s a cool name too.”

“Thanks. Picked it out myself.” Dew rarely genuinely smiles at customers, but the grin he gives Aether is 100% real. “You’ll never guess what it’s short for.”

“Hmm… Dewey? Dwight?” Aether cocks his head again, not unlike a puppy. Dew shakes his head.

“Nope.” Dew turns back to the machines, picking up his discarded cleaning rag. “You can keep trying, I doubt you’ll get it.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep coming back.” Aether chuckles. “Do you guys have a punch card by any chance?”

Dew sputters, left reeling by the comment. God, he’s pathetic. The mere suggestion that Aether might be coming back makes his heart flutter like a teen with their first crush. Oh fuck, was this a crush? He’s too old to be having those.

“Um- yeah, let me get one for you.” Dew turns back to the register to hopefully hide any blush he had and retrieves a punch card from the drawer under the counter. He remembers to grab the hole puncher too and clicks a hole in the first space on the card. It was a heart today, of all shapes. “Here.”

“Thanks so much.” Aether gives Dew a smile and poor Dew can do nothing but stare at his stupid, gorgeous puppy eyes. “I’ll make sure to come back.”

“Y-yeah, see you soon then.” Dew manages to say with a nod. He watches Aether leave- Good lord, that ass is a sight to behold- and decides to take his break early. He taps Swiss in and makes for the back door of the kitchen.

Leaning against the wall next to the dumpster, he lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag. His head tips back against the brick wall as he exhales the smoke. God… pull it together. You are twenty-four. You have a job and hobbies. You absolutely CANNOT be having a puppy crush on a CUSTOMER. Especially one you’ve only interacted with for five minutes. This is pathetic. Finish your cig and go do your job so you can get paid and be a functioning adult.

Dew does just that- smokes his cigarette down to the filter, stubs it out on the wall, tosses the butt into the dumpster, pops a mint in his mouth, and re-enters the kitchen. 

The rest of his shift goes… fine, he guesses. He downs another red bull, banters with Swiss, gets scolded by Cumulus for “using kitchen equipment unsafely” (closing an oven with his hip), and manages to interact with customers without accumulating an HR report.

On his walk home, the darkening autumn sky is remarkably close to a certain shade of blue. Dew grits his teeth and turns his gaze to the sidewalk.

kudos and comments on ao3 would make my day!

[loulouwrites]

BIRTHDAYS . ALFIE SOLOMONS

summary: birthdays are a big event in the solomons household - especially when it's alfie's favourite daughter's big day. warnings: swearing, children being children, complicated family dynamics, fluff, alfie loves all his children equally (honest), unedited word count: 2.2k a/n: nobody asked for this but here's a lil birthday story. this is the last of the prewritten stories but there's definitely more to come. ( i wrote this three melatonin deep so, if it makes no sense, forgive me!)

Alfie woke up to what felt like a ton of bricks being thrown onto his stomach.

"Fuckin' hell," he groaned, the bed bouncing up and down, jostling him from his sleep.

"Fucking hell," a little voice giggled from beside him and his eyes shot open at the sound. His daughter was kneeling beside him on the bed, already dressed for the day, wearing a frilly dress that reminded Alfie of a trifle, and pink ribbons in her - usually - wild hair.

"It's by birthday, dad," Bessie laughed, still bounching up and down on the bed.

"Have you already had your cake, Bess?" Alfie sat up begrudginly, leaning against the headboard, holding his arms out so Bessie could climb in his lap.

"Waiting for daddy," she pointed a finger at him in a way that reminded him of her mother, she was going through a phase of imitating everybody around her - it was endearing when she imitated her mum, less so when she imitated him.

"Well, we best get a move on, then," he swung his feet out of the bed, dragging the now three year old with him, her laughter drowning out the groan he let out due to the strain in his back from carrying the girl that seemed to get heavier everyday.

He carried her into the kitchen, ruffling Benjamin's hair as he passed him, the boy sitting quietly at the table eating his breakfast.

"Alfie, put her down," his wife warned as she fussed with the cake on the bench, little Noah perched on her hip, sucking on his thumb, taking in the scene. He was the calmest of the three children so far, he was only four months old, but Alfie swore he was going stay like that until adulthood - always calm, always studying those around him.

Alfie obeyed his wife, placing Bessie gently on the ground and walking to approach his wife, his daughter following close behind him, eyes fixed on the cake her mother was almost done perfecting.

He placed a chaste kiss on her lips, and then one on little Noah's hair, not oblivious to the toddler gripping onto his leg. He eyed the cake suspiciously, the colourful icing and decorations feeling like an assault on his eyes.

"What happened to a Vicky sponge? When did these things have to get all fancy?" He lifted a finger to touch the cake, but his hand was swatted away before he could reach - and ruin - it.

"It's the fashion now, old man, you need to get used to it," she smiled, raking her eyes up and down his body, her eyes narrowing. "Why aren't you dressed? It's nearly ten, Alf, party starts at twelve."

"Fuckin' hell, I'll go now," he groaned, reaching down to pick up Bessie from her place beside him, muttering to her as they left the kitchen together. "Your mum is so horrible on birthdays."

"Mum is horrible," Bessie laughed along, not really knowing what she was saying.

"It's not fair! Bessie got more presents than I did," Benjamin huffed, arms crossed over his chest from his seat on the sofa, his mother rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

"Will you stop your whining?" Alfie spoke to his son, he was sat cross legged on the floor, helping Bessie open the perfectly wrapped presents, the floor covered in floral wrapping paper.

His mother leaned in to her son's side, pulling him to her gently. "Yours were more expensive," she winked, earning a smile from the boy.

"A baby!" Bessie laughed as she opened her final present, the fabric doll with bright red hair and rosy cheeks making Alfie jump from his seat on the floor.

"Fuckin' hell," he took the doll from his daughter's hands, holding it up to show the other three people in the room. "It's uglier than Benny when he was born."

"Alfie!-"

"Dad-"

The mother and son chastised the man, the little girl throwing her head back as she laughed.

"We're the only one's with a sense of humour in this house, Bess," he muttered, handing the ugly doll back to her.

The doorbell rang at exactly twelve, and Alfie answered with Bessie dangling upside down in his arms.

"Oh, it's you," he said flatly when he saw the woman on the other side of the door.

"Bubbee!" Bessie shrieked, wriggling to get out of her father's grip, and he let her down as gently as possible, which wasn't easy considering she was upside down. Bessie slid ungracefully to the floor, picking herself up, unphased, throwing her arms around her grandmother.

"Happy birthday, Elisabeth," she smiled, and Alfie rolled his eyes, Bessie's head turned to him, a frown on her face.

"Who's Lisabeth?"

"Come in," Alfie turned before the woman could respond, speaking under his breath, "or fuck off home, I don't care."

"I hope I'm not too early," the older woman spoke as she trailed behind him. "I was told twelve."

Alfie ignored her, stalking into the kitchen where his wife was pulling some form of baked good out of the oven - she went overboard in his opinion.

"Your mother's here," he said in an overly cheerful tone, gesturing to where the woman stood behind him.

"Hello-"

The woman interrupted her daughter's greeting, moving to inspect the birthday cake that was now presented on a crystal stand on the kitchen table.

"Is this the cake?" She raised a brow, and Alfie lifted his head to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. "It's awfully fancy, you were lucky if you got a Victoria sponge."

His head snapped to his wife, who was now standing with a sly grin on her face.

"It's funny you should say that mum, because Alfie-"

"It ain't fancy at all," Alfie interrupted with a scoff. "Anyways, our Elisabeth deserves the best, don't ya, Lis?" He scopped his daughter up in his arms.

"Who is Lis?" She frowned.

The doorbell rang, breaking the awkward tension in the room.

"Thank fuck for that," Alfie sighed, carrying Bessie to answer the door for the second time.

In hindsight, inviting twenty people with twenty toddlers into their home wasn't the best idea. The house had been filled with screams of laughter and terror for the better part of two hours, and it was driving Alfie mental.

He didn't really like kids, he thought they were dirty, messy and stupid. His children were the exeption, they were clever and clean - even four month old Noah had better manners than some of these three year olds. If Bessie's birthday taught him anything, it was that the only children he liked were his own.

"You want a drink, Alf?" His wife's brother? cousin? asked him holding up a glass of whiskey from the other side of the living room.

"Don't touch it...mate," Alfie declined, shaking his head in disgust at the gesture. He was telling the truth, this day not only marked the birth of his daughter, but the last time he had a sip of alcohol - determined not to have a repeat of three years ago. He was proud himself for that, he had never been a big drinker, even in his younger days, but he never felt obligated to swear off the stuff until the day Bessie was born - whether it was because he felt genuine guilt, or the reoccuring nightmare regarding Ms Abrams and that Charles Dickens book, he wasn't too sure.

Bessie was asleep next to him on the sofa when his wife approached with a cup of tea, the little girl's mouth open, pink icing still smeared across her face, it was the first time she'd fallen asleep before her bedtime since the day she was born.

"Your family drinks too much," Alfie eyed the fathers in the corner of the room, growing more rowdy as the minutes ticked by, the expensive bottle of whiskey he bought his wife for his birthday now empty, barely a drop left.

She raised a brow at him, "is that a fucking joke? A Solomons is saying my family drinks too much?"

"We sell, we don't drink."

"You don't drink, your cousins on the other hand?" She shook her head as if she were trying to shake the thought of his family away. She had only met them a handful of times, at weddings or funerals, and she was happy to keep their interactions at a minimum, lest she receive another black eye from being shoved away during a drunken scuffle.

"My family are fun," Alfie protested, though there was no real fight in his tone. "Yours are drunk and stuck up."

"It's a three year old's birthday, Alfie. I'd take drunk and stuck up over hammered and violent."

There was a smile on her face as she spoke, his family was fun, though she would never admit it.

He kicked everyone out at five. throwing his arms up as he herded them out of the house, wishing them well and thanking them for coming, not caring about their response.

"Yeah, bye now, Rachel, by now," he said, closing the door on his wife's aunt before she could say anything in response. He slumped against the closed against the closed door, his forehead pressing into the cool wood, closing his eyes relishing the sound of silence.

"Alfie."

"Fuck," he shouted, spinning around to face his mother-in-law, who was stood directly behind him, her hat on her head and gloves on her hands. "You leavin' so soon?"

"It was nice seeing you, Alfie but I don't want to overstay my welcome," she offered him a strained smile.

"You?" His eyes widened, a fake smile on his face. "Never." He opened the door for her, not waiting until she had fully passed the threshold before slamming it shut.

The family were sat in the living room in silence, the chaotic mess surrounding them completely forgotten as they savoured the calmnmess that enveloped the house since the last guest left.

Bessie was still flat out at Alfie's side, Noah sleeping against his mother's chest.

"Dad?" Benjamin said from Alfie's other side, and Alfie opened one eye to glance at his son. "Is Bessie your favourite?"

"Now what makes you think that?" Alfie opened both of his eyes, sitting up carefully as to not wake the birthday girl.

"You say it all the time."

"Well...yeah, I suppose I do," he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "No, she isn't, because I don't have a favourite."

Benajamin offered his father a skeptical look, one that clearly said 'I don't believe you.'

“Okay, the truth is, your sister needs more reassurance than you do," he gestured his son to lean in, whispering in his ear, "you're my real favourite."

Benjamin smiled a toothy smile, jumping up from the sofa and happily running up the stairs to his bedroom.

His wife grinned at him from the seat across from him.

"Liar," she whispered.

It was six o'clock when the doorbell rang, and everybody's head lifted to glance at the door from the dining room table.

"Now, who could that be?" Alfie rose dramatically from his chair, his eyes flickering in between his two oldest children, "I wonder if it's Bessie and Benjamin's big present." He strode towards the front door, ignoring his wife's panicked calling of his name.

"About time," he spat at Ollie, motioning for him to come inside, the present following behind the two men apprehensively.

The children were sat up straight in their seats when he returned to the dining room, a smile on his face, their hopeful expressions turning into ones of pure joy when they saw the four legged creature sat at his feet, panting happily.

"Please don't hurt me," Ollie whispered, his eyes fixed on the woman sat at the dining table, a scowl on her face.

"A doggy!" Bessie screamed, jumping down from her chair and running to kneel in front of the animal, Benjamin following her happily.

"It's fucking massive, Alfie," his wife spat, her arms crossed across her chest. "Where did it even come from?"

"Funny story that," he pointed to the Ollie, then to the dog. "Ollie found it, behind the bakery, getting beaten half to death by some cunt, poor thing...truly fucked up what happened to it...and Ollie brought it into the bakery," his wife glared at him but he continued on, "yesterday all this happened, why I was so late home."

"What happened to the owner, dad?" Benjamin asked, patting the happy dog on its head, laughing as she leaned in to lick his face gratefully.

"Well..." Alfie cocked his head to the side, "gave 'im a little warning, didn't I? He won't be harmin' no more dogs, let's put it that way."

"Can we keep her, mum?" Benjamin asked.

"Well I can't say no now, can I?" She huffed, crossing her arms across her chest, unmoved by her children's cheers.

"What's her name?" Bessie asked, hugging the dog around its broad shoulders.

"She don't have one, yet, thought the birthday girl should choose," he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Don't she look a bit like bubbee?"

"Bubbee!" Bessie squealed, "Name's bubbee!" The dog lurched up at the sound of her new name, knocking the toddler back as it licked her face gently.

"Fucking hell!" Bessie laughed, and her mother's eyes widened.

Alfie's eyes locked with his wife's, and he pointed to the little girl.

"Favourite," he mouthed.