#southside request

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Bonten with a reader who is literally a little princess; a girly (something like your tenjiku publication with a hyper feminine reader)

Bonten x Hyper Feminine!Reader

♡ SFW, suggestive, fem reader, fluff, reader likes dresses, skirts, heels, scrunchies, ribbons, bows and all that stuff, reader wears perfume and makeup ♡

Characters: Mikey, Sanzu, Kakucho, Kokonoi, Ran, Rindou, Mochi, Takeomi

note: thanks for requesting anon 🩷

note 2: my brain is simultaneously on overdrive and dead asf lol, this took me forever for no reason

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Mikey

💠 Emo boy and his princess girlfriend lol

💠 He doesn't mind your fashion sense and actually enjoys the pop of color and brightness you bring to his usually dark and bleak life

💠 Keeps you far away from the rest of Bonten, he doesn't want nor need you getting involved in his shit

Sanzu

🌸 Have you seen this man's hair? Bubblegum pink 🙄

🌸 He'd probably want to match hair colors

🌸 He'd absolutely sort through your hair clips and such, arranging them by color and size

🌸 Seems calm but is actually going feral on the inside whenever he sees you in a fluffy dress

Kakucho

🩷 Buries his face in your neck because he loves the smell of your perfume

🩷 Sprays his cologne on a jacket or shirt and leaves them with you before he goes on business trips, better yet he'll leave the whole bottle

🩷 Loves when you leave kiss marks on his clothes, even though the Haitani brothers (and Sanzu lol) poke fun at him for it

Kokonoi

💵 Bought every piece of clothing and accessory you own

💵 Tries heels on before he buys them for you, probably fell while walking in them too

💵 Does your hair for you even though he could definitely pay someone to do it instead, he likes the bonding experience

Ran

💜 Treats you like royalty, you look like a princess and deserve to be treated like one

💜 Lets you run wild with his credit cards because anything his princess wants, she gets

💜 Picks out your outfits everyday and gets pouty if you wear something other than what he picked

Rindou

🩵 Likes when you play in his hair and style it with hair clips

🩵 Let you put makeup on him once....never again lmao

🩵 He'd tie a ribbon on his arm for you, no doubt

Mochi

🍡 Wears your hair ties and scrunchies on his wrists, either you leave them with him or he just snatches them

🍡 Has probably ripped your skirt on an occasion or two, he's very heavy handed but he doesn't mean to be

🍡 Type of boyfriend to lift you up and spin you around just to see your dress flow in the wind

Takeomi

🚬 Refuses to smoke around you because he doesn't want to leave the smell of cigarettes on your pretty clothes

🚬 Constantly checking your closet for new clothes so he can know what not to buy you

🚬 Always finds your hair accessories and jewelry scattered around the house and struggles trying to find where it goes

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx

[moremaybank]

tending to jj's cuts and bruises after he defends your honour... (based on this post and this request) [0.8k]

"Ow."

Your hands work diligently at the cut etched across his cheekbone from your stance between his legs. For a moment, one wanders off, stroking his non-battered cheek in a silent apology for the added pain.

"You did this to yourself," you state matter-of-factly. "No one told you to turn into the Hulk."

"Well, you don't have to be mean about it."

"I'm not trying to be mean. I just don't understand why you can't let shit go sometimes."

You move on to his split lip. A jagged, dark red line cuts through the mouth that you think about far too often. You ache to kiss it, believing that maybe you occupy the healing powers he so obviously needs, but then you think better of it.

There's no way he feels it too.

You dab a wet towel at his lip, cleaning off the dried blood, and once his mouth is free, he chooses to defend himself, thankfully with his words this go around.

"You didn't hear what he said about you, Y/N/N. I wasn't about to jus' let him get away with that shit."

Your eyes meet his, and you pause your movements. Though you appreciated his loyalty and how he'd always stick up for you no matter the cost, you never enjoy when he actually goes to those great lengths just to protect you.

Simply having him in your corner was more than you could ever ask for.

"Kelce is an idiot. I don't care what he has to say about me, and you shouldn't either."

"Well, I do. He's lucky he didn't leave in a bodybag."

Your eyes narrow at him. "You're impossible."

"'M jus' sayin," he says. His tender and sore hands travel up the sides of your thighs, warmth blossoming through you in their wake. He gives your flesh a squeeze. Funnily enough, he can no longer feel the pain flashing through them like lightning bolts now that he's touching you. "I'll never let anyone say or do anythin' to hurt you, princess. I'll always protect you."

You feel the warmth bloom in your cheeks, and you're eternally glad that he isn't holding your face the way he always does. You'd be busted if he were.

You offer him a small smile, one you can't suppress. How can you be expected to after those sentiments?

"Look, I know I probably sound like a broken record, but you can't keep putting yourself in the position to get in trouble. You're not a kid anymore, and you've had enough run-ins with the law as it is."

"'M not scared of gettin' in shit, Y/N/N."

"I'm serious," you frown down at him.

"So am I. Fuck the opps."

You scoff, wanting to wipe that devilish smirk off his face. "You sound like Pope."

"Who d'you think taught him that?"

You know he thinks this is all just a joke. Not the defending you part, but the getting in trouble with the law part. He'll always do what he feels he needs to, regardless of the possible consequences. It's just how he is. Still, you don't think it's a joke. You hate how Shoupe and the rest of them take all his indiscretions and use it as ammo to remind him that he'll never escape the southside. You'd hate to be the reason that he 'proves them right.'

"J, I mean it." You set the items that occupy your hands down on the marble counter, and grab his face in your hands, careful of his cuts and bruises. "All I'm asking is that you try and keep it together. Please. I don't like watching you get hurt."

He's silent for a moment, analyzing your words and the sincere look on your face. Yeah, you're his best friend, but it's always a nice reminder that someone actually wants to look out for him and care for him.

He likes it even better when it's you who's doing so.

The corners of his lips turn up and his hands migrate to the backs of your thighs. He uses his hold on you to urge you closer. "You're worried about me."

You give him an incredulous look. "Yes, JJ. I worry about you. After all this time, I don't even know why you question that."

"'Cause you're the only one who does."

You melt inside, and you're sure you do so on the outside as well. Your eyes soften, and to distract him from it, you go back to cleaning him up, reaching for some q-tips and the disinfectant.

His eyes flutter closed when you touch him again.

"If you wanted attention, you coulda just said so," you joke, unable to resist poking fun at him.

"Shut up," he says, laughing softly. His eyes are open again, and he looks up at you so tenderly that he wants to tell you what he's been feeling all this time.

I love you.

It's on the tip of his tongue, but when he wills it to leave his mouth, they refuse him.

He goes for the next best thing.

"Look, I'll try to...control myself. No promises, though."

A small smile graces your lips. "Thank you."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lip gallagher x implied fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re not sure why you feel the way you do but everything is just so overwhelming. what better way to relieve stress than by going to bug your favorite cocky bastard? || preview here

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: fluff, tiny bit of anxiety, light smut, soft!lip, reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend (once), princess, and baby’, no use of y/n

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k (2203)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 💌: a reupload because the first didn’t post properly for some reason i have an idea or two for our fav southside boy in the works, but in the meantime, feel very free to send me a request or just shoot me an ask with lip brainrot. i welcome all here.

also! i made a ko-fi, link here! totally not required but greatly appreciated if you want to support!

- ❤︎ -

You’re tired, unbelievably so. You can’t fathom being in this class for another minute. When you slowly direct your gaze to the clock on the wall, you thank whatever higher power is at work that you only have a few minutes before the class ends.

The professor can barely bid his farewells before you’re out the door. You don’t remember ever moving so fast, but you can’t wait to be in the comfort and safety of your room. 

Walking to your destination, you notice how heavy your body feels. It seems like you’re carrying double your weight as you drag yourself. The only thing getting you through is knowing that soon enough, you’ll be able to toss your books aside and rid yourself of the clothes that feel far too tight and warm and- 

You groan, suddenly feeling oh so overwhelmed. Once you reach your shared campus apartment, you can’t help sighing in relief. The tension almost dissipates as you rummage through your bag for your key, letting yourself in. What greets you, however, is nothing short of comforting. Your roommate is currently on the couch, looking like they’re about two kisses away from having sex.

Your annoyed sigh catches their attention, and they separate from their partner long enough to send you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I thought I texted.” The person underneath whispers something in their ear. You barely hide your disgust when your roommate giggles. “We’ll be quiet.”

You must look skeptical - as you should, taking into consideration the many times when they have, in fact, not been quiet - because your roommate lifts their pinky, “Promise.”

You ignore how they barely wait for you to take your leave before starting back again. Your only focus is quickly entering your room and stripping yourself of those ultra-suffocating clothes. You let out a breath of air, inhaling and exhaling and exhaling and inhaling. 

Burying yourself in your blankets, you lay your head on your pillows and feel yourself start to drift off. The day’s stress fades as you close your eyes, welcoming sleep.

And you do just that until a loud thump wakes you from your daze. You go on high alert, thinking something is awry. Only when you hear moaning do you pinpoint the disruption.

That fucking liar, you silently seethe, attempting to block the increasingly loud moans from reaching your ears. Of course, they weren’t going to be quiet. It was like they had no sense of privacy or respect, for that matter.

Based on previous experience, you knew that sleep stood no chance against the literal bumping and grinding of your roommate and their partner right outside your room. With a frustrated sigh, you pull yourself out of bed, slipping on a hoodie and sweatpants. At least these clothes don’t feel so suffocating.

You move around your room in the dark to find your shoes. You weren’t sure where you’d kicked them when you came home, hazardously tossing your clothes off so you could dive into bed. You think about turning the light on, but considering the headache begging for stimulus, you decide against it.

You finally come across a pair of shoes - well, correction: slippers. Better than nothing, you think as you slide your feet inside. You bring your hood down over your head, practically shielding your face before leaving your room. 

The sounds are even louder as you walk past the couch, and you mentally note to rearrange the living room the next time you don’t feel like shit.

You practically stomp over to the door, not even caring to be quiet. If your roommate doesn’t give a flying fuck, neither do you. They pause long enough for your roommate to apologize with what you know is another sheepish smile.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes as you open the door, “fuck both of you.”

You close the door behind you and almost laugh when you remember they were doing just that. You’re not sure which is worse: staying in the apartment with your roommate being extremely loud or having nowhere to go. You think about it for a second when you realize that both are equally as bad.

You’re about to start stressing again when you think of something, someone else. As you meander through the apartment hallways, grimacing at every loud noise you encounter, you flip out your phone and text the one person you know won’t disrespect your privacy like your roommate.

hey, can i come over?

The elevator dings, and you pocket your phone, boarding the chute. You grimace at the bright lights and the loud chattering of the two people in the corner. While you realize they don’t mean to be so obnoxious, you sigh heavily, waiting to reach your desired floor. 

Just when you think you’ll combust if you hear one more hyena-like laugh, the elevator dings again, and when you sigh this time, it’s in relief.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you check it as you step off, beginning your walk down the hall.

aww, u missed me, didn’t u?

Your eyes roll as a smile tugs at your lips. You’re about to respond when another text comes through.

come on over since u just can’t live without me

The cocky bastard, you muse, not bothering to text back when you approach the door you’ve been desperately waiting to see. You go to knock when the door opens, and you perk up a bit, only to frown when you notice it’s not the person you came to bother.

Tyler, you think that’s his name, grins at you and opens the door wider for you to step inside. “Hey, Lip, your girlfriend’s here.” 

Lip emerges and greets you with a sly smirk. “That was quick. Bet you were racing to get here.”

Upon seeing your favorite cocky asshole, you feel your stress relieving. With a scoff and roll of your eyes, you deny the accusation. “One, I wasn’t racing. And two, I think we both know who can’t live without who here, and just a hint: it’s not me.”

Lip bites back a laugh, dipping his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants as he brings you closer. His lips are pressed against yours before you even register him leaning in. When you do, he’s pulling away, leaving you chasing after him. 

The brunet laughs then, “What was that again, babe? Something about you being able to live without me?”

You huff, the corners of your mouth tilt down, and your brows crease. It was such a Lip thing to rub it in your face. If the roles were reversed, you know for a fact Lip would be all over you.

“C’mere, you baby.” Lip pulls you closer to him, smirking as he kisses you again. You press into him, sighing softly against his mouth. It seemed like with each kiss, your stress was slowly melting away.

You felt the brunet’s exploratory hands caressing the skin beneath your waistband. Before they can reach any further, a laugh comes from behind you. “Aren’t you two just so cute?”

Shit, you flush with embarrassment. So caught up with him, you forgot Tyler there by the door. You go to move away from the brunet, but he holds you still, one hand cradling your head and the other raising his middle finger to his friend.

It’s a simple ‘fuck you’ that only sends the other male into boisterous laughter. 

“Okay, okay,” Tyler snickers, “I’m going.” The door opens once more, and right before it closes, Tyler calls over his shoulder, “Don’t have too much fun, kiddos.”

If you think you were embarrassed before, it doesn’t surpass now as you finally separate from him, face burning as you plant it on his chest.

You feel the brunet’s chest rumbling as he attempts to contain his laughter. “C’mon, let’s go to my room before Tyler starts creeping on us.”

You follow behind him like a lost puppy, allowing him to pull you along. You don’t realize your eyes are closed until you fall on his bed. Shooting a glare at the brunet, you right yourself on the bed.

His response is a cocky grin, and if you weren’t feeling like crap, you might rip him a new one. Instead, you roll your eyes, laying back on the pillows. 

“So, what’s got you in such a pissy mood?” You hear shuffling next to you and direct your gaze to the brunet, who is pulling his tee over his head. As shitty as you feel, you allow yourself to keep your eyes on how his muscles shift and contract. 

“My eyes are up here, baby,” You can hear his sarcastic tone, and you slowly drag your attention away from his chest and arms to his face. 

“I know. I guess you can say I was,” you pause, pretending to look for the correct word, “admiring the view.” 

You hear the bed creak before you feel it dip as Lip hovers above you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You mean you’re having a bad day because you want my dick? Aw, princess, you could’ve just said so. I’m more than happy to help.”

“Fuck you, Gallagher.” You try to sound annoyed, but your breath of laughter betrays you. “And I’m having a shitty day because I’m tired as shit, and my roommate is fucking.” Lip looks confused, so you clarify. “Like actually fucking, which sucks ass. So I’m here because I need some TLC.”

“Thick Long Cock?”

A laugh rips through your chest as you push the brunet away. “You’re fucking awful. You know damn well I meant Tender Love and Care, not fucking Thick Long-” You can’t even finish your sentence through your laughter.

When you’ve calmed down, you look up to see him staring down at you with a genuine smile, not a smirk or a grin. The quickening pitter-patter of your heart is interrupted when the brunet leans down to peck at your lips. “Got you to laugh, didn’t I?”

The sneaky bastard. You shake your head, unable to hide your simpering grin. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down for another kiss. Then another. And another. And just once more.

You’re satisfied now, and you let him know just that. Though, just because you are doesn’t mean he is. The next thing you know, your face and neck are peppered with kisses that have you squirming away.

“Lip…” you groan as his kisses become more frequent and sensual. He pulls back only to look down at you with that motherfucking cocky smirk you’ve come to love and hate. 

“Thought you wanted some TLC?”

“You’re the most awful person I’ve ever known,” you sigh, pretending to be annoyed. Lip could read right through your facade.

One hand slides under your hoodie, prompting goosebumps despite the warmth, as the other holds him up. Lip’s fingers trailed up to your breast, but he paused. “This okay?” He asks, stroking the skin just below. 

You’re sure he can hear the quickening beat of your heart as you nod, “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay.”

“Just my luck then, huh?” is asked as his hand encompasses your breast, eliciting a shaky breath from you when he presses against your nipple. He squeezes and palms and pinches and pulls, alternating from breast to breast until you’re moaning soft and quiet, digging your teeth into your bottom lip.

When you had come over, you hadn’t been expecting this. But you can’t complain. And as much as it would stroke the brunet’s already enormous ego, you can’t deny that Lip’s fingers are incredibly skilled.

Your hoodie is pulled higher, so you lift yourself to help him remove it. If he was giving you the front-row seat to his show, the least you could be is a pliant audience member. You’ve barely closed your eyes, laying your head on the pillow, when he licks at your nipples. The cold air and his earlier ministrations have increased your sensitivity, and you can’t stop a choked whimper from escaping.

“Fuck, Lip!” His teeth scrape against the hardening buds, and you can’t remember why you were so on edge earlier.

A breath of laughter sounds above you, prompting your eyes to flutter open. “Feels good?” If your brain wasn’t so muddled by the pleasure he gave you, you might ask why he asks questions he already knows the answers to.

Instead, you add fuel to the fire, maintaining eye contact as you look at him through your lashes, “Yeah, it feels good.”

A slight dimple appears as he grins, “You know, you’re kinda hot when you get confident like that.”

During the pause in pleasure, your brain clears some, and you raise a questioning brow. “Kinda?” 

Lip corrects himself, “No, not kinda. I mean, so fucking hot that it gets my dick all hard.”

Your eyes widen at his vulgar choice of words. It takes a second to regain your composure, “Screw you.”

“I’d like to screw you more, princess.” Lip says as he adjusts to sit on his knees, still hovering above you. His hands find themselves home on your thighs, “So, how about you let me give you some more stress relief?”

[sashi-ya]

THAT BOY IS A MONSTER. hibino kafka x f! reader. sinze kink

⋆ requested by: anon. Congrats on 8k sashi!!! you deserve them all! I'm so happy you are writing for Kaiju n8!!! I hope I don't f up with my request, so here I go: kafka x f! reader, nsfw with any kink but can you add size kink? thank you sashi! 😁💓 ⋆ tw: mdni. explicit smut. oral. kinda public, no people around though. oral. size kink. sweet and hot best boy kafka. ⋆ wc: 2.5K // event masterlist // tagging: @i-literally-cant-with-this & @southside-otaku 💕

“Hibino Kafka!” you exclaim. Another night, another late study session from the hard working “old man”.

“YES?!” he stands up, jolting from his seat, scared he might be in trouble. However, he calms down as it’s you instead of Hoshina scolding him for staying up too late.

However, you are there to do exactly that… and maybe, perhaps, win his heart.

“Sleeping is part of your j-“ “Sleeping is part of the job, I know…”

He knows you are right, but there is something he needs to do; to be able to fight along Ashiro Taichou. And that makes your blood boil…

“Just- never mind” you mumble, noticing no matter what you say it will never make him change his mind. And is not that you don’t want him to pursue his dreams, but there is a part of you that is absolutely jealous. However, about that, he doesn’t know a single thing.

Turning around, you know this will be yet another night like any other. No approaches to the man once saved you during battle. No  changes, no kisses… or so you thought.

As you are about to leave, his -pretty big- hand wraps around your wrist. A dominant grip it both made you shiver and scared you, prevents you from leaving.

The only light around, coming from the little table lamp, is the only source of light on the base library. Silence reigns as most of the officers sleep, and yet the only noise you could hear is your heart pumping blood alarmingly accelerated.

“You worry a lot about me, (Name). I must thank you!” him, solemnly and sweet, expresses.

You scoff. A thank you isn’t enough to your heart. That laughter sounds louder, absolutely tinted in sarcasm. Kafka, why are you so slow?

“is everything ok?” he continues, still holding your arm but this time softening the grip little by little.

“I care because I like you, Kafka” you finally spit, rather painfully or even annoyed. You understand how love works, but your heart can’t stand him having eyes just for Mina.

Silence. He is silent like a night with no Kaiju alerts. Like death, profoundly mute.

You get to release yourself from his hand, internally desperate to run away. You know there is no point in staying… you don’t want to hear apologies for liking her and not you. But then again, you were wrong.

“I LIKE YOU TOO!” he shouts, the only way he knows how to.

In awe, you turn around to discover a sweet -and sleepy- dumbass blushed up until the tip of his ears. His eyes, opened wide. His back straight. The little belly you love, sucked it up.

“You do?”

He swallows, takes a big gasp of air and his face transforms. From a silly teenager in love, to a mature man with a mission; communicate how much he likes you.

Kafka walks towards you, seizing the space in between you two. You swallow too, he is taller than you; bigger than you; stronger than you.

“Can we go to the rooftop?” he asks, as his hand reaches your cheek. It’s soft, and manly… the touch you never thought you would experience.

You nod, out of words. And out of words as well is how you walk behind him as you both climb the ladder to reach the terrace.

A soft breeze plays with your hair and his white flowy shirt. Ahead, the city lights of Tokyo glitter on a dark sky and everything around seems to be asleep as you two should be.

He bends over the railing; Kafka seems worried.

“Why did you… wanted to come here?” you ask, coming closer and yet keeping a reasonable distance from him.

He turns around, opening his arms, smiling sweetly so all of a sudden. “Come here” Kafka calls you to his embrace.

You hesitate for some seconds, but your smile finally takes over your whole face. How to say no to that big dumbass you are also in love with?

As you let yourself be engulfed in his big arms, you inhale his perfume. Never have you ever been this close to him, but you quickly get used to the scent of this manly man.

A hug so warm, his hands hanging loosely over the small of your back. A little bit lower, and those would meet your ass.

You keep your nose buried on the very centre of his chest, and your hands shyly around his waist. Even if you wish to hug his whole frame, you wouldn’t be able to.

“Silly” you murmur, muzzled. “Don’t call me silly… although, I prefer it over “old man”” he huffs, hugging you closer. So close, you are unable to breathe.

“See, I prefer someone older…” you whisper -lustfully looking into his eyes- the moment he lets you breathe for a little bit.

Kafka swallows, but it looks as if he had his throat dry. He can feel his palms getting sweaty, and all the blood of his human body migrating to a single place.

Your hand, because there is nothing else both could do to stop this, grazes his belly up his chest. You go slow, painfully slow. Your fingertips landing on his sharp mandible, feeling the raspier sensation of his unshaved chin.

He grabs your hand, allowing you to rest your full palm on his cheek for some time. But soon enough, it’s him who is placing his thumb on your lower lip. He softly plays with it, slowly and delicately opening your mouth, bringing you closer to his lips as well.

On tippy toes, you do your best to receive his kiss, but it’s him the one to bend enough to do so. Like a protective creature that is also about to attack you.

And oh, how he “attacks” you… his lips crash onto yours, with a surprising passion. Of course, he knows how to treat a woman, he is not a youngster anymore.

Tongues that dance, and huge hands on your body. Still respectful, but hot enough, one landing on your waist while the other presses your nape. His fingers tangle on your hair, pulling ever so slightly.

Your nails carve into his back, sure that those marks will be cause of interrogation coming from the officers during the next community bath time.       

The more the kiss deepens, the more he is tempted to undress you right there. And you, of course, think exactly the same way.

Kafka lifts you up, sitting you on the railing. You are safe; no matter how high you both are on that rooftop; you know you are if he is the one protecting you.

His kisses travel from your mouth to your neck; Kafka inhales your skin perfume, getting hungrier from your flesh the more he does. And the first bite arrives, leaving a mark you will need to dissimulate the next following days.

“I want you…” you mutter, in between heated breathe taking kisses. “I- ngh… I want you, too” he words, nervous, hard, needy, desperate, feral and also blushed.

You unzip your uniform jacket, praying no camera were on up there. Breasts still covered by your compression shirt, begging for Kafka to reach them. Nipples hard, ready for his tongue to play with them.

“Can I?” he asks, as if he needed to. “Please ~” you purr. “Hold on tight, I don’t want you to fall” he adds, using both of his palms to finally land on your turgent chest.

He squeezes and plays; he is still a little bit of a dumb. But soon enough, he focuses on sliding your shirt up. His eyes transform once again when he gets to see your naked upper part, almost like a salivating beast, he pounces right on to it.

Kneeled on the ground, he is able to bury his face on your breasts, followed by a wet mouth avid to devour each of them in the most delicious way. Sucking, biting and licking, making your eyes turn white.

But he wants to taste every single one of the delicacies you have to offer, and because of that he urges you to stand right back on the floor while he continues to kneel like a praying devotee of your godly anatomy.

And your most both pure and impure anatomy is what he discovers, as Kafka slides down your uniform pants into the floor.

“please… you are so perfect” he whispers, placing a sweet kiss on your right thigh.

You feel your muscles spasming, but also trembling. What a man he is.

Another kiss follows, right on top of your mound of Venus, causing your knees to faulter a little and for him to scoff in a cute way.

“Don’t- don’t laugh…” you scold him, pulling softly from his short hair. “I’m just happy ~” he smiles, kissing a couple of centimetres down the last peck.

You bite your lip; this game of lust is making you -and your sex- grow impatient. Already. Eat. Me. Out. Hibino Kafka.

He looks up at you, with eyes you’ve only seen while fighting Kaiju and a smirk that’s closer to a devil than anything else. Index slides your panties down, allowing your wet core out and dripping down your legs.

Gloating, he takes a final look at what he is about to eat, and so… there he goes. A tongue that’s suspiciously great and kinda long, plays in between your folds.

You try to supress moans and whines, but it’s tough work when it comes to such precise and delicious pleasure. And it is that Kafka lifts your right leg to make it rest on top of his shoulder, to suck and devour you even deeper.

“Kafk-Kafka-kun… my- ugh….” You can barely mouth incoherent words, a sign of your brain getting totally taken over by climax.

“Not yet..” he giggles, enjoying the taste of your core into his tongue. Kafka is not only delighted; he is over the moon -and probably trying to hold back his kaiju form not to finally reveal in front of you-

A last kiss on your belly button takes him to stand up; you, panting, can’t believe he has just stood up before making you come… but he has better plans for that matter.

“Can I fuc-“ “yes, you can fuck me” “Yoshi!”

The sweetest dumbass grabs you by your waist, and this time he doesn’t sit you on the railing but over what you presume must be some kind of air duct construction on the rooftop. You don’t exactly know what that is, but the chivalry on your lover won’t let your precious booty sit on a probably dirty cement surface, and instead, he takes his shirt off to place it in between to protect you.

You take a moment to appreciate his body; strong and still so real. A little bump on his belly, proper for his age… so. fucking. hot. Several marks, battle scars that haven’t healed just yet, catches your attention… when did he ever got his body cut with blades?

However, something you weren’t expecting -or maybe you did, imagining during lonely nights- was the size of his sex as it is freed from his lose pants.

You swallow. Is this… gonna fit?

“Kafka-kun?” you whisper. “mh…?” he asks, pumping a rather large shaft ready.

You blink rapidly, opening your legs enough for his hips to reach closer. With one hand sustaining your body over the surface, and the other shily touching the warmth of his throbbing dick you barely mumble words;

“You- big” “I’ll be gentle, I promise (Name)-chan”

He sounds by far sincere. But truth is… perhaps you don’t want him to be gentle, at all.  There is something, so absolutely attractive of a man like him. Of a man so sweet and still so feral… as if he had a confidential secret, as if he deep inside hid an untamed monster.

Well now, he has two secrets. And one of them has just been revealed by you. The size of that man is not only equivalent to his courage, but also quite literally in terms of anatomy.

“Don’t be gentle…” you moan into his ear, as his tip gets closer to your entrance and his body covers the moonlight above you.

Kafka grunts; you shouldn’t have said it that way…

Deep. Deep enough to show on your belly as a protruding bulge. Deep enough to make you loudly mewl. Hopefully nobody has heard. Deep enough to trigger your body to stand on the verge of precipice, on the verge of climax.

Slaps sounds take over. His belly against yours, the kisses inhaling the little oxygen left; that, and the soft growls and huffs of that man decided to fuck you until paradise.

It feels like your walls are being ripped apart, and so incredibly good at the same time. So full of him, the scent of his skin getting stronger; his body sweating, the faster and harder his thrusts become.

“Co-coming…” you communicate, muzzled by his lips. “Very good -ngh…” he does the same, hitting the right spot inside of you as if he was made perfectly for you.

Hands squeezing your butt, teeth pulling your lip. Your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, unable to go away… to pull back. Your nails once again carved on his back, your walls squeezing, milking him up.

“Ahhh fuck…” “fuck, fuck, fuck…”

[gallaghersgal]

hi! i'd like to request college!lip x shy college student

thank you <3

birthday girl || lip gallagher

lip gallagher x shy!reader

warnings: none!! just a bunch of fluff

a/n: lil rushed at the end but hey, i was getting sleepy ✋🏻✋🏻 thank you sm for requesting !! also im so sorry i think the reader turned out less shy than intended

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

there was a boy named phillip gallagher in your intro to statistics class who sat next to you at every lecture. he didn’t speak to you often, sometimes asking for a pen or for you to check his work, but you enjoyed his presence. he smelled like cologne and cigarettes, and secretly you very much enjoyed watching the muscles in his arms flex as he furiously scribbled down the examples and formulas your professor was lecturing about. but of course, he didn’t need to know that.

you noticed a lot about him, picking up little things here and there over the semester. he was from southside chicago, here on a prestigious academic scholarship. he had a sister named fiona, and a handful of other siblings too. and he was crazy smart. he constantly had the correct answer to your professors sample problems, even if he didn’t always offer it up to the class.

you had a tiny, growing crush on him. of course you would never tell him that. on the rare occasion you saw him outside of class, you could tell he was the life of the party. you could tell some days when he came to class that he was violently hungover, clutching an energy drink and talking to one of the boys in the row behind you about the previous nights activities.

you on the other hand preferred to stay at home, have a night in with your cat, a good book, and a glass of wine. parties, bars, they really weren’t your scene.

that’s why you felt so out of place in the bustling club your roommate had dragged you to for your birthday. you pulled at the edge of the hot pink dress she had lent you for the night, insisting you wear something sexier than the jeans and top you had originally picked. she wasn’t wrong about the dress, you looked gorgeous in it, but between the skirt riding up every few minutes and the way the crowd was bumping you around, you were ready to get out of there.

you texted your roommate that you were going for another drink and a breather, then started pushing through the crowd on the dance floor.

you were nearly to the edge when you saw him. pretty blue eyes lighting up as he waves. a plain black tank top clings to his chest, and he mouths your name with a grin.

“fancy seein’ you here!” he shouts over the thrum of the club, long strides carrying him straight across the smooth tile to your side. his arm slips around your waist as he leans in so you can hear him better. “wha’s the occasion?”

he smells like cologne and cigarettes, and you have to remind your heart it’s bad to beat so quickly. “it’s my birthday,” you reply. “my roommate and some friends drug me out. i was just going for another drink and a breather.”

"happy birthday!" he beams. "c'mon, i'm buyin'. can't let the birthday girl pay for her own drinks now can i?"

you're grateful for the dim light because his words have you blushing like mad. he takes your hand and leads you to the bar, letting you order and getting a vodka redbull for himself, plus two shots of your favorite rum.

the shot goes down easy, adding to the warm tipsy feeling that's spreading throughout your body. you're about to sit down on one of the barstools but before you know what's happening he's pulling at your hand again.

"where are we going!?" you shout.

a smirk forms on his lips that you just want to kiss off. "jus" trust me!"

"how can i trust a guy i barely know!" you reply, giggling as the two of you weave through the dance floor. "you never even told me your name."

"aw cut the shit, i know ya know my name sweetheart. playin' dumb ain't gonna work with me." he shoots you a cheesy grin as the two of you make it through to the other side of the dance floor. "but, if you're dyin' to know, everyone calls me lip."

“lip!” you say with a breathless laugh as you approach the man standing in front of the stairs to the VIP section.

“mike!” lip shouts, clapping the man on the shoulder. “my man, how ya been huh?”

you stick close to lip’s side, hand still clinging to his. your free hand lands instinctively on his bicep. he turns to you for a second with a small, dazzling smile, then begins to dig in his pocket.

“hey so, ‘s this pretty girl’s birthday,” he smooth talks with ease, drawing two blunts from his pocket and offering them up to mike. “why dontcha let us up yeah?”

mike chuckles, taking lip’a bribe and sticking it in his pocket. “jeez gallagher, go on.” then turns to you, “enjoy your birthday beautiful, if this goof fucks it up i get off in an hour.”

you blush furiously, ducking your head after a quick “thanks” to mike, hurrying up the stairs behind lip.

he leads you through a glass door out onto a small balcony. the smell of weed and cigarettes drifts to you on the warm breeze, nervous goosebumps dissolving as you take a sip of your cocktail. you stand at the railing and look down on the city street.

one strong hand settles on your waist again, and you shiver. he’s so close to you, you can barely breathe.

“lip this is-“

“you are so beautiful.”

it’s like all of chicago pauses. all you can see is those pretty blue eyes before you duck your head, unable to take such an open and honest compliment.

“hey, hey,” you can hear that shit eating grin through his words. “‘m sorry if that was too forward. but c’mon, look at me pretty girl.” his hand rests under your chin, pulling lightly for you to look at him. you don’t know if it’s the alcohol helping you along, or the soft gravitational pull he radiates, but you bring your eyes to meet his.

“you’re sweet,” you say, all quiet and breathless under the weight of his stare. he’s like a rip current, pulling you away from the familiar discomfort that often holds you, tearing into his uninhibited world for a moment.

“‘m sweet t’ya cause you deserve it, honest.” he holds up his hand in mock defeat, then brings it softly on your cheek. “pink looks real good on ya. fuckin’ breathtaking.”

“jesus lip,” you say with a soft laugh. “you’re one hell of a sweet talker.”

he’s inches from you, close enough that you see his features in detail. you admire his features from the slope of his nose to the soft, pink curve of his lips.

“how’d you get that scar?” you ask, referring to the small mark on his chin. with one timid hand you reach out. your thumb brushes over the skin, and now it’s lip’s turn to shiver.

his smile turns softer, eyes flirting down to your parted lips before rising back up to look in your own. “aw, pretty girl. jus’ lemme kiss ya already.”

you grin as he leans in, lips pausing just in front of yours for a split second before kissing you like he needs it to breathe. your fingers thread through his hair as he kisses you again, and again, and again.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

This is an oddly specific request but could I ask for headcanons with Kafka and a reader who’s on the curvier side? Like I’ve got DDs, I have wider hips, and like Kafka I have abs but only if I suck in my stomach. So I guess I feel very seen and validated by his body type??

Sfw/nsfw is fine, and feel free to delete this if it’s too vague. I hope you have an awesome day! ☺️

MDNI under the cut, please and thank you!

A/N ::: I woke up at 4:30 this morning and am falling asleep as I write this lol. Proofed as well as I could for the remaining brain power I have.

Anon! I LOVE this so much. And oddly specific requests are fine with me. It just means I have more to work with! I hope you like this and that it meets all of your needs =).

Always had a soft spot for women with more to love. And you've only made these feelings of his grow in intensity.

Can't believe YOU are interested in him. Sure, he knows he's strong and relatively good looking (my god, he deserves the world) but only recently has he started to feel really comfy in his own skin.

Respects the hell out of you for being so confident in your body.

Never tires of seeing you walk around in your bra when you get ready in the morning.

Has trouble focusing on his breakfast when your tits are looking so much more delicious than what he's trying to eat.

Has given up on finishing his food more than once to take a few well-placed bites of you.

Can't get enough of your ass, especially when you're bent over something in the kitchen. Or the bedroom. Or the bathroom. Anywhere, really.

Comes up behind you and starts to rub your hips, squeezing and pulling at you, whining because he doesn't want to wait until later to have you all to himself again.

You've let him indulge in his fondness for the softness of your body more than once.

You're nearly convinced that he likes what he's doing to you more than you do.

The way he reacts when he's eating your pussy, moaning and pulling your body closer against his face, his big arms wrapped up under your thighs and his hands almost turning white they're gripping the fat of your legs so hard.

It's like he's possessed, unable to control himself.

And when he fucks you, his abs bulge and flex as he slams into you, his cock hitting all of those spots deep inside of you, driving you mad.

Does his best to let you cum first.

When he finishes, sometimes he'll pull out and cum all over your tits, stomach, ass. Any part of you that he's fixated on at that moment in time.

Has had trouble deciding and almost ruined his own orgasm - luckily, there are only beautiful parts to you, and he was able to finish anywhere.

He's never had a preference for where he puts it before, but with you he just seems to really like to cover you in his cum.

Provides world-class aftercare.

He offers you anything he can think of that you might want or need.

Warm washcloth to clean up a little? Sit tight, kitten, he'll be right back.

Hungry? Where do you want to eat? He's famished, anything you want sounds great to him.

Thirsty? He's already walking his chubby, jiggly naked butt down the hall to the kitchen for a glass of ice water for you.

Tired? Great, so is he. The two of you have curled up more than once to take some quiet time for just you.

He's got you covered for anything.

So grateful to have someone so loving, patient, and caring in his life.

Fights (playfully) with you about who is luckier: You or him. But he never backs down that he's the clear winner here.

@kazutora-kurokawa @katkusuo

@darkstarlight82 @southside-otaku

@bakubunny @mintiblossom

@breathofthewind29 @viburnt

@trevengersprincess @manji-hoe

@witchy-scribblings @

[gingerlee-holds]

Ok ok so and idea for a fic: Alastor broadcasts one of his frequent tikl attacks on Vox so everyone in hell knows about his weakness (any length is fine)

oh!!! thank you for the idea and request anon/lovebug!! i hope you enjoy this!! its not directly related to the series im currently writing about ler!alastor, but its related, so maybe its on the same storyline just in the future- enjoy!!

aaaa i absolutely did not proofread this so ignore the terribleness xD

Tune On In

Words: 2228 Warnings: not proofread lmao- also mentions of alastor's violent tendencies but its offhanded

Pentagram City, among the only metropolitan areas in Hell, was bustling. Cars honked in endless traffic, clubs blared out noisy music, guns were fired, and demons screamed in agony or ecstasy, often both. There were a few moments when the city was blissfully serene, though these were rare occurrences accompanied by tragedy. For instance, after the formerly annual Exterminations, the entire city held its breath for the toll of the clock tower to signal that they were spared. These minutes of agonizing silence were rarely enjoyed, though.

There was only one other time when Pentagram City was so quiet: when the Radio Demon made a broadcast. Each radio and speaker in the city played the single, agonizing transmission. The hair on the neck of every sinner rose in fear, and every overlord held their breath. The terror and respect Alastor garnered by broadcasting the suffering of his victims made him the second most feared being in Hell, second only to Adam. Now, though, the commander of the Exorcists had been disposed of, meaning Alastor now had the top spot. And when the speakers across Pentagram City suddenly became overwhelmed by static, the Radio Demon smiled to himself, knowing he had the rapt attention of every demon in the Pride ring. 

"Testing, testing~! Is this thing on?" Alastor's voice echoed through the now-silent streets. “Salutations, sinners! Thank you all for joining me on this lovely morning! The temperature today is a downright balmy eighty-six degrees, and we're getting reports of a chance of acid rain in the southside around ten o'clock, so keep those umbrellas ready, folks! Now, I'm sure you're all wondering who I have with me as today's special guest on the program, and I'm thrilled to introduce him~!" 

Alastor spun around in his chair, grinning with delight at his victim, who lay on the floor of his recording studio, bound by magic tendrils. The businessman glared up at him, mouthing, "Don't you fucking dare," to no avail.

"Yes, it is my absolute pleasure to welcome everyone's favorite wannabe, the overrated picture box himself~! Everyone give a hand to Vox, CEO of VoxTek Enterprises and peddler of the same useless trinkets and gizmos corrupting today's youth! Yes, a big hand for the pixellated prince!" Alastor pressed a button on his soundboard to play a recording of raucous applause. 

Velvette looked up from her phone, blinking with realization. She cringed and looked over at Valentino, who looked like he was about to throw another tantrum. "How was he stupid enough to get himself captured?" she mumbled as she ran to the security cameras. Alastor continued his monologuing as Velvette watched, dumbfounded, the recording of Vox reading a letter before storming into a power outlet. She looked behind her as Val grabbed the letter from the table and began to read it silently, fuming.

Alastor wanted to prolong this as much as possible. "How have your stocks been doing, old pal?" he asked innocently, extending his microphone staff for his guest. 

"Just fine." The mic was sensitive enough to pick up Vox's angry sparks and glitched voice as he spoke, struggling to seem level-headed now that he was being recorded. 

The Radio Demon giggled. "Any new products you'd like to promote?"

"No."

"Ah, but enough of business. Let's get on to business!" Alastor laughed at his pun, standing up to walk around his victim. "You're very nervous, chum!"

"Get real. This has got to be the trashiest- ACK-" Vox froze mid-sentence as Alastor pressed the tip of his cane on one of his antennae. 

"Careful. Don't forget whose guest you are~!"

Vox growled in annoyance and squirmed a bit in Alastor's magic. He hadn't even bothered to wear his suit before running over, which he regretted as he lay on the floor in a button-up shirt and slacks. Looking down, his heart sank further: he was still wearing his slippers. 

Alastor removed his cane, walking towards those slippers. "Still pissed I almost beat you that time~?" 

"Uh… fuck you!" Vox snapped. 

"Just saying~!" Alastor grinned. 

Val looked up from the letter. "He stole my line. That bitch! He stole my goddamned line! I swear, I'm gonna-" he growled before storming off, leaving the paper on the table. 

Velvette quickly ran over and skimmed, murmuring to herself. "'To whom it may concern,' blah blah, 'scheduled for a meeting,' yada yada, 'meet an associate at 6 to…'" She stopped and squinted at the page. "Hell does 'vouchsafe' mean?" Her brows furrowed as she connected the dots. Alastor must have sent this letter to lure Vox out, and Vox, thinking he was late for a meeting, ran from the tower without telling anyone. "That idiot!" she yelled, punctuated by Val throwing a wine glass against a wall two rooms down. 

Alastor let a sinister chuckle escape his lips. "I think you have some things you should share with our dear audience! For instance, what exactly did you suggest I do seven years ago?" He waited patiently for the question to sink in.

"I- what?" Vox raised an eyebrow, not seeming to understand.

"Seven years ago, you came to me with a proposition. What exactly was it?"

The question finally clicked for Vox, but he scowled at the Radio Demon. He'd die before he gave that prick the satisfaction. He stayed silent, sparks shooting around his body. 

"Suddenly, the chatter-box is quiet~! Such strange times we live in. Don't worry, folks, I know how to make our guests talkative~!" Alastor quickly used his cane to flick away Vox's slippers. 

Demons looked away from their radios, wincing preemptively at the agony they were about to hear. Overlords felt beads of sweat rolling down their faces. Velvette leaned closer to the radio, pursing her lips, nervously fiddling with the pens on the table. Vox squeezed his eyes tightly shut, expecting Alastor to break his toes any moment now.

The moment stretched on. Vox tried to hold his breath, but when he couldn't, he finally exhaled slowly, and when he did, the Radio Demon struck.

“H-heehee- n-nohow wahahait, hohOld oHon a sehhec-!” Vox shot upward, looking down to see Alastor lying on his stomach, his legs swinging behind him as he gently traced one claw up and down Vox's sock. “T-theheere’s n-noho wahahy youhuhu're- c-cuhuhut ihihit ohuhut!”

"Hm, feeling a bit bubblier, are we~?" Alastor grinned impishly, slowly adding the rest of his fingers to scribble over Vox's feet. Now realizing what the Radio Demon had in store for him, Vox clamped his mouth shut, every muscle in his body straining to contain his laughter. An electric current had formed between his two antennae with the effort he was using.

Suddenly, Alastor's voice appeared next to his ear. "Go on, you little gigglebug, let it all out~!" Vox shot a glance sideways to see Alastor's shadow whispering to him. "Besides, we both know you're far too ticklish to resist~!"

"F-FuhUhuhUCK! YoUhuHUHU oHohOLD-TihIhIMEy PRiHihiHICK!!!” Vox snorted and arched his back as much as he could. Teasing was just too much!

Velvette's shoulders relaxed a bit. It didn't seem like Vox was in trouble… However, when she double-checked her phone, she saw that social media was blowing up about the CEO of VoxTek being tickled, which had unfortunate results on the company's stocks. At least she could rest a bit easier knowing that her friend- no, business associate was in no real danger. She was shaken out of her thoughts by another staticky shriek.

"Come now, I know you wanna tell all our lovely viewers about how you-"

"NoHoHOHO!" Vox shook his head, but his eyes bugged out when he felt tendrils squeezing at his hips. 

"And now~? Let's change that channel~!"

"OKAHAHAY!! OKAhAhahAHAY! FuhUhuhUCK!!" Alastor slowed down but didn't stop the gentle tickles to keep Vox in a giggly state of embarrassment. 

"Go on~! What did you propose to me all those years ago~?"

“T-thahat… thahahat youhuhu chahahange youhuhur nahahame tohoho Vahalahastor-!” Vox’s screen turned red as he remembered the thought.

Alastor cued the laugh track again. "That's right! Since you wanted me to become a member of your polycule so much-!"

“IT’S NOT A POL- EEHEHEHEEEK!” Vox's indignant shout was cut off by a squeal he couldn't contain when he felt Alastor's claws scribbling against his shoulder blades. 

"Now, next question!" Alastor pretended not to hear the squealing mess on his recording studio floor. "When we fought those years ago, who won~?"

"NEhehHITHER!!" Vox desperately tried to weasel his way out of the question and his tickles, but with both, Alastor kept him pinned. 

"Technicalities!" Alastor smirked and added shadowy tendrils to the back of Vox's knees as punishment for his insolence. "Nobody technically won, but only because…?"

“THEHEHE VEEHEEHEES!!!” Vox bluescreened as electric shocks flew off in every direction, making Alastor step back a bit and slow down again. “Theehehe Veeheehees cahahame in ahahand sahahahved meehehehe!” 

"Right, since I was about to win~!" 

Vox growled in frustration, trying to get his composure back. "Yeah, but how about that fight with Adam? Talk about- ACK-!" Vox was again cut off by the cane on his antennae, and he looked up into the face of the radio demon, with eyes in the shape of dials and horns extended. A radio hiss filled the studio, echoing out across the city. 

Alastor waited a few moments before responding. "Many nasty rumors are going around about me, Vox, mostly thanks to you. Only one is completely and wholly true, and it's this." He bent down close to Vox's face, making him flinch away. "I do have a special appetite for the flesh of other demons. Vox, my good old friend, I need you to know I am famished at the moment."

"Y-yeah-? W-well-" Vox tried to think of something clever but came up short. "Y-you're not going to eat me, Al! I'm all wires. Wouldn't taste good!" 

Alastor hummed in thought. "Perhaps you're right. I have a refined palette, and junk food would just ruin my mood." He smirked at the insulted stammering Vox let out before continuing. "However, I just can't resist a little taste~!"

"What? WaitwaitAlasTOHOHOHOR!!!!” Of all the things Vox expected from his worst nemesis, nothing could have prepared him for when Alastor bent down and began gently nibbling his teeth over Vox's ribs through his shirt. Oh, he would never hear the end of this from anyone. 

"Final question," Alastor chuckled. "What is your biggest weakness~?"

'Oh, fuck, no, please don't make me say it!' Vox's mind raced. Was Alastor seriously going to- 

The Radio Demon let out a raspberry on the middle of his ribcage, sending him into silent hysterics. Yep, Alastor was going for the kill… metaphorically. 

"IHIHIHI'M!! IHIHIHIHIEAHAHAHAHA!!! AHAHAHAL!!!" Vox tried getting the words out, the words he knew would spare him from this hellish tickling. Alastor, mercifully, stopped and let Vox catch his breath, pointing the microphone on his staff to Vox's face. Vox sighed, feeling the built-in fans on his head whirring crazily to cool him down. He whimpered softly, defeated and made into a giggly mess, so he mumbled pathetically, "I'm deathly t-tihihicklish…"

"Yes, indeed he is, ladies and gentlemen! Thank you so much for joining us today. I hope it was as enjoyable for you as it was for me! Although, I know Vox appreciated it the most~! Tune in next time for another exclusive interview~! Vox, will you be coming back on the show?"

"N-nohohoho…" Vox tried to hide his face in the tendrils but wasn't very successful. 

"What a shame! We have so many more laughs to share, don't you think~? I'm sure we'll all hear from you again soon~!" With that, Alastor flipped a switch, and the studio's large 'ON AIR' sign turned off. Across the city, speakers began playing their regular music again, and the city's noise returned in all its chaotic, messy beauty once more. 

The radio demon released his tendrils, and the businessman slowly and wearily rose to his feet. Every muscle shook, and he leaned against the wall for support. "This… This isn't over. You won't get away with this." He turned back and glared daggers at Alastor, sparks shooting off his hands.

"I have! Now, don't dawdle! You need to address the media~!" Alastor pointed out the window, and Vox turned to see a gathering crowd of reporters and camera crews assembling around the front of the hotel. 

"F-fuck." 

"Off you go~!" With a gentle push, Alastor sent Vox on the most embarrassing walk of his life as he stumbled through the hotel, his slippers in hand. 

Charlie, face glued to the front window nervously, whirled around when she heard footsteps. "Oh! Please, come again soon!" She smiled and waved at the demon, who simply huffed.

"I won't," he said under his breath, pushing open the doors to be greeted by reporters shouting and snapping pictures. What a mess. 

When he finally got back to V Tower, he got quite the earful from both Velvette and Valentino. However, when they were alone together, Velvette grinned and scribbled a hand over Vox's ribs to make her friend giggle. It was cute, and goodness knows she needed a stress reliever now and then. Maybe she had to thank Alastor sometime for unintentionally gifting her such precious information. At least Vox didn't lose a limb in there: only every last shred of his dignity.

[ficnation]

New Neighbor - Fiona Gallagher x Reader

Request: hi!! can i request a fiona x female reader? something where the reader is a neighbor and eventually starts dating fiona? thank you!! requested by anonymous Word count: 1,9k+ Pairing: Fiona Gallagher x Female! Reader Warnings: usual shameless themes, maybe swearing, kinda enemies to lovers trope

Main Masterlist

Shameless Masterlist

The first time you met Fiona Gallagher, she was pretty hostile towards you. The word “hostile” wasn’t nearly enough to describe the way she looked at you. You didn’t have the slightest idea why your mere existence in the same neighborhood was such an inconvenience for her, but the way she treated you was getting on your nerves. 

You had been living in Chicago for a few weeks and liked it well enough. The house you inherited after your grandfather wasn’t particularly large, but it was more than enough for you. And it had all the amenities you could ever ask for. The rooms didn’t need to be thoroughly cleaned, bathrooms didn’t have to be scrubbed to look half decent, and windows didn’t need to be replaced. Everything was just right. 

You wished your relationship with the neighbors was just as right as the house was. But things weren’t going too well between you and Fiona Gallagher. In fact, if you were being honest with yourself, you were starting to resent her. 

You thought bitterly about Fiona’s frown from yesterday morning when you accidentally bumped into her on the sidewalk. You didn’t understand her hatred at all. 

Her siblings seemed to like you or at least tolerate you. You were always nice to them, and you didn’t treat them like you were better. Both of your families were stuck in the Southside with no means to move anywhere nicer. The least you could do is give each other a friendly smile from time to time and lend a helping hand when it was needed.

Walking through the front door, you sighed and tossed your keys on the table before flopping onto one of the kitchen chairs. You let yourself rest for a while, too exhausted after your night shift at the bar to do anything productive. You didn’t even want to think about all the other tasks that awaited you. 

Not even twenty minutes later, you heard knocking. You got up reluctantly and went over to open the front door. It was probably the neighbors’ kids playing a prank at the cost of your peace and quiet. 

But when you opened the door, your breath hitched. Standing there, smiling brightly at you, was Fiona Gallagher. 

Her happy face and cheerful voice were something you didn’t expect at all. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a casual plaid shirt and some faded jeans. Even when looking so day-to-day, you had to admit she looked stunning. You slapped yourself mentally for letting that thought enter your head. 

Before she could say anything, you stuttered out a greeting and reluctantly stepped aside to let her in.

As soon as Fiona entered the living room, walking past the adjacent kitchen, you closed the door behind her and followed, leaning against the wall beside her. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed how close you were to her.

She cleared her throat and played with the hem of her shirt nervously. “You look tired,” she noticed. 

You shrugged and tried to play it cool, but inside, you were fuming. “Yeah, I guess I am. I work a lot.”

The brunette nodded and took a seat in one of the armchairs. “I’m sure you’re busy,” the woman said, guilt evident in her voice. Then a second later, she added awkwardly, “Maybe I should just go—” 

“No!” Your voice came out louder than intended. You mentally winced at yourself. You weren’t used to her being so nice to you. Embarrassed, you sat down on the couch nearby and rubbed your neck. “I mean... You can stay,” you offered tentatively. “Tell me what you came here for.”

She smiled warmly at you again and nodded. “Alright then.” Her eyes darted around the room, trying to avoid yours at all costs. You were pretty sure she was trying to find a way to ask you for something without sounding like a horrible person.

The silence stretched a little too long for your comfort, and you shifted in your seat, catching her attention. “So,” you began cautiously. “What brings you here?”

“Oh,” Fiona glanced away from you and chuckled slightly at her own awkwardness. “Right…” She paused for a moment before sighing deeply. “Lip told me you were a mechanic before you started working at Kevin’s bar.”

The way she said it made you feel a little nervous. Lip must have really needed you to help out if he couldn’t fix the issue himself. Or maybe he just wanted to force Fiona to interact with you like a normal person. 

“Yeah… Yeah, that’s me.” You quickly understood that she was only here because she needed a favor.  

Fiona stared at you for a moment, studying your face, trying to read what you were thinking.

“I know you probably don’t want to have anything to do with me and you definitely have no desire to help me with anything,” she finally blurted out. “I just... I really need your help.”

You frowned at her crossing your arms over your chest. “Why wouldn’t I want to help you?” you asked, baiting her.

“Because I’m a bitch.” She sounded honest and regretful of her former attitude toward you. You were surprised. 

“You’re not a bitch, Fiona.” You rolled your eyes at her, trying to stay nice even though she didn’t treat you even remotely pleasant before. “You’re just… You’re not the friendliest person around.”

Fiona shook her head. “I think I’m a bitch for doing nothing but getting pissed every day at you because Kevin gave you my job at the bar even though I knew you needed it more than I. I think I’m a bitch because I’ve spent so much time pretending that you’re this horrible horrible person when in fact you were always a sweetheart.” She gave you a sad smile. “You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry.”

“Shit, alright.” You blinked a couple of times, still not believing your own ears. It was definitely a pleasant surprise. “It’s all forgiven and forgotten. Now, what do you need me to do?”

“Help me fix that shitty ass car, maybe. Just so I can get to work in time for my shift and not get fired, please,” she asked, looking at you with begging eyes. 

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “Okay, fine. Let’s see what we can do.”

Fiona grinned widely at you, and you couldn’t help but return the gesture. You felt your cheeks getting warmer. You didn’t know anyone’s smile could be so breathtaking.

The next thing you knew, you were standing outside of Gallagher’s house, sleeves rolled up above your elbows, a grease rag in one hand, and your cheeks smudged black as you worked on the engine of her car. Your hair fell in front of your face every now and then, so you tucked it away with your fingers.

It was hot and humid, and everything smelled like gasoline. For a second, you wondered what you were doing here, but the feeling of satisfaction you felt knowing that Fiona’s car was almost fixed and that she could now drive it again pushed away any thought of leaving. Besides, you figured you wouldn’t mind spending another hour in her company.

“Hey, thanks so much for helping me,” Fiona said after a while. 

You didn’t reply but sent an awkward smile her way as you just kept working. You didn’t know how to act around her yet. Gossiping about the neighborhood and small talk came easily, but when she tried to ask about your family and deeper things, you couldn’t help but avoid responding.

She was silent for a few more minutes until she spoke again, “Lip told me you’re leaving Chicago soon.”

“Yeah, by the end of the month,” you replied without taking your eyes off your work to study her reaction. “I’m going back to California for my friend’s wedding and I have some shit to take care of while I’m there. Not really sure how long it’ll take me.”

“I’ll miss seeing you around.” Her voice sounded sincere, but you still didn’t buy her words.

You snorted slightly at that. “Doubt it. We’re hardly friends,” you pointed out. “You hated me like an hour ago.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow at you challengingly. “Maybe I’m changing my mind about that.”

“I’ll let you prove it to me,” you snorted, wiping your hands on your jeans. “I think it’s done.” You nodded at the car. 

The brunette smiled widely, jumping into the car and trying the engine. The car spluttered for a moment before changing into a steady hum. 

“It works!”

When you came back from California, you felt relaxed and ready to take on everything and everyone that the world decided to throw at you. Not only has the state of your mind improved, but so did your relationship with Fiona.

She kept texting you through the few weeks you spent out of Chicago. You didn’t remember giving her your number, but you guessed that Kevin or Lip gave it to her.

You texted her back whenever you could. Her messages were full of random ramblings and questions about your trip. At some point, you found yourself looking forward to her texts, glancing at your phone every few minutes. Fiona gained your trust and friendship quicker than you expected.

What you also didn’t expect was to see her the moment you parked your car in the driveway. But here she was, sitting on the wooden steps of your house, smiling brightly. Her hair was down in soft waves that framed her face perfectly. The kohl under her beautiful brown eyes made them stand out against her pale skin. You couldn’t help but stare at her through the side window, amazed.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, neighbor!” she called out, jumping to her feet when you got out of the car to greet her.

“If I knew you’d be waiting for me, I’d probably get a speeding ticket along the way.” You grinned at her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The road back was neither the shortest nor the most pleasant, and you were worried you looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

Fiona walked up to you quickly before throwing her arms around your waist, which made you gasp in surprise. You reluctantly returned the embrace, burying your face in the crook of her neck. You let yourself get enveloped by her smell—the smell of cigarettes and coffee with a tint of sweet perfume—for some reason, it was just intoxicating.

“Did you miss me that much?” you whispered against her, feeling her shudder at the sensation of your breath washing over her heated skin. 

“I’m proving I like you, just like you said.” Fiona pulled away to look you in the eyes. She spent a few minutes studying your face longingly. “Go on a date with me?”

You smiled brightly. “So I take it that you like women just as much as I do?”

“I definitely like you like that.” 

The brunette leaned in, brushing her lips against yours, waiting for your reaction. She partially thought you’d pull away and reject her after how she treated you before, but to her and your surprise, you didn’t. You tangled your fingers in her hair and pulled her closer, sealing your lips together in a rough kiss.

“I think I like you like that too,” you mumbled out against her lips.

@humanmistakes

If you're not on the taglist but would like to be tagged let me know!

[myangelhaven]

These are my recommendations of BANGCHAN fics! It will be updated once in a while for new stories I have read. Hopefully the links work (lemme know if it doesn't)

Credits to the authors!! All information written is taken from the authors' post and has not been modified. Reminder that some fics are NOT for minors, so please read the key and avoid 18+ contents.

HAPPY READING!!

KEY

[❀]: fluff [𖦹]: humour [𖤓]: angst [☄]: sad [☾]:smut [⟡]:smau [✮]: my favs

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮----------BANGCHAN-----------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

LONG FICS

overtime by @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf [❀][𖤓][☾][bossau] 5.5k

You work as bang chan's personal assistant. with a comeback on the horizon, he tells you needs you to pull some serious overtime.

Ghostface by @bruh-changbin [𖤓][☾][✮] 6.2k

Southside Nocturne by @cb97percent [❀][☾][fwb] 6.3k

You and Chris have been friends with benefits for quite a while now, but it's irony galore when his most outrageous request to date makes you both realize you want something more. the kiss becomes rushed and messy the way two lovers dance carelessly under the rain, your arms wrapping around his neck and hands tugging on his hair.

Love me, love me not by @scxrlettwxtches [❀][𖤓] 6.5k

when chan rejected you, you never expected that it would become the catalyst for your love story, rather than the end of it. but, life and a few welcome matchmakers have a way of playing with fate.

Connected by @j-0ne25 [❀][𖤓][☾][mutual pining][bffs to lovers] 6.8k

What happens when your best friend asks you to review his nudes? You help him, of course, while being busy ignoring how the pictures make your heart race, how they are intended for someone else and how much you are actually in love with him

From grace by @changbeanie [❀][𖤓][☄][demonau] 7.1k

He was a fallen, a follower of Lucifer, a creature of deception. All that aside, what if the darkness was not as one-dimensional as you perceived it to be?

Touch by @fizzydrink698 [☾][werewolf au][frenemies to lovers] 7.2k

Then, he finally notices the first-aid kit in your hand, and he changes.

The corners of his lips turn up, twisting into a smirk. He raises his chin, one eyebrow arching at the sight of you. It’s a smug, quietly dangerous look from Chan that you’ve never seen before. One that sets your nerves on edge, has the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

“Why?” Chan asks, and his hand drifts up to undo his top button. “Are you here to play nurse?”

More Than Just Friends by @kwanisms [❀][☾][werewolfau][bff2l][roommatesau] 7.4k NEW

Chris is a werewolf. His best friend is well aware of this. But what she doesn’t know is that during his heat, he often pictures pinning her down and breeding her. When she comes back home the day before his cycle is due to start, Chris finds it hard to not give into his urges when he smells she’s ovulating.

Unexpectedly Fallen by @iridescentxstars [❀][☾] 7.8k

sometimes you don't expect to find comfort in someone but sometimes life has another thing in store for you

Hate the club by @charmercharm3r [𖤓][☾][exes] 7.8k

Seeing your ex at the club is one thing, letting him take you home after he broke your heart is another.

Overdue book by @ch4nb4ng [❀][☾][librarian] 7.8k

You liked to read a couple of naughty books here and there. But when one librarian gives you his books recommendation, and you lose it, you must be punished

Waiting for us by @j-0ne25 [❀][☾][✮][mutual pining] 7.9k

A ruined Friday night—after randomly getting ghosted by the guy you went on a date with—gets a little more bearable with your closest friends around you. For some reason, Chan is a little more clingy today and you blame it on the tension that’s been between the both of you for some time now, when you start flirting with his roommate instead to get a reaction out of your best friend.

Bubblegum by @cb97percent [𖤓][☾][✮][situationship][3some] w/ LeeKnow 8.3k

Minho constantly being in love with himself in the group chat frustrates the shit out of you, and you desperately want to teach him a lesson. Meanwhile, Chris has other plans in mind.

Promise this by @changbeanie [❀][𖤓][arrangedmarriage] 8.7k

Can I learn to love you

Secret secret by @j-0ne25 [❀][𖤓][☾][✮][f2l][pining][rockstarchan] 9.3k

In order to get rid off the ridiculous crush you have on your best friend Chan, you decide to project all those feelings on an unreachable celebrity, rockstar CB97, instead to protect your stupid heart. But little do you know that these two guys might be closer than expected. When you get invited by 3RACHA’s company to edit their newest music video, suspicions finally pop up in your head.

Marital duties by @ch4nb4ng [❀][☾][✮][established relationship][marriedau] 9.4k

Having a job that meant traveling and spending time away from your husband made the absence grow much fonder for you and your needs, as well as your husband's

stations and destinations by @sulfurcosmos [❀][𖤓][☄][✮][chf2l] 9.8k

when did love start feeling like a crime?

let me in your ocean, swim by @skzms [❀][𖤓][☾][coworker2l] 9.9k

“Chan, you’re an idiot,” Changbin sighs and Chan whips around.

“What did I do now?!” he asks, trying to give his voice a joking edge but failing miserably.

“She’s so into you, and you don’t even see it,” Changbin states grandly, like it’s the most glaringly obvious thing in the world. Jisung huffs out a giggle next to him, but nods.

-> In which Chan is a little self-conscious and a lot clueless, Changbin is his therapist and his wingman, and you get really sick of waiting for Chan to get his shit together.

bad idea! by @hyunsvngs [☾][stepdadau] 10.2k NEW

you're home for the holidays, and your mother - who you can't stand - has a new, young, hot boyfriend. it's such a good idea trying to seduce him.. Right?

Really F**king Like You by @jl-micasea-fics [𖤓][☾][strangers to lovers] 10.7k

Tinder matched and subsequently ghosted by the hot guy that lives across from you, you’re mostly resigned to singleton life, dejected and somewhat fed up. That is, until a screwed up delivery turns things around, in the most unexpected of ways.

Falling rain by @staytheword [❀][𖤓][☾][☄][f2l][postbreakup] 11.1k

You fell out of love. It happens. All you need is time to piece yourself back together. But as you and your friends meet for a movie night, you don’t expect your ex to be there - yet he is, and it looks like he’s doing much better than you do. Luckily, your friends are there for you - especially Chan.

Perilous Desires by @iridescentxstars [𖤓][☾][✮][slowburn][asylumau][psycho][dark themes][don't read if uncomfortable] 11.8k

getting made to work the night shift, you're assigned to the ward the dealt with the more... demented of the patients. the ones who are a danger to society. except for him - or so you think

Parasitic by @luvknow [❀][✮][e2l] 11.8k

your roommate is going abroad for the semester and now you’re forced to share your apartment with bang chan, who you basically lived with for the past semester except he didn’t pay rent, he ate all of your food, and crashed on your couch after a long night out. you were going to do everything in your power to avoid him until your roommate comes back. that doesn’t work out so well.

Kiwi by @j-0ne25 [❀][𖤓][☾][✮][mutual pining][childhood friends-enemies-lovers][travelau][onebedtrope] 12k

After graduating from college, you decide to travel around New Zealand and celebrate your freedom. But when you buy a van for the journey, the salesman scams you, selling the exact same car to both you and another person who’s no other than your childhood best friend you haven’t seen in years—and still have a huge crush on…

Between the Lines by @straylightdream [𖤓][☾][✮][arranged marriage] 12.5k

After being used a nothing more then a pawn to gain the upper hand on Chan. They’re left in a strained marriage and only one way out.

The chance of love by @maatryoshkaa [❀][𖤓][slowburn][e2l][tutorau] 13.8k

Red pen, empty classrooms, and an overheard phone call: The one where you’re determined to find one flaw about your seemingly picture-perfect class president, and he’s determined to make sure you pass the class—no matter how hard you’re trying to fail.

Priceless by @chaoticminhos [❀][𖤓][e2l] 14.3k

priceless; adjective; so precious that its value cannot be determined

Amethyst by @pucchinpurinracha [❀][☾][✮][camreader] 15.4k

you reigned queen in your carefully constructed world - a double life hidden from your friend and roommate, chan. but the universe had its way of throwing surprising curveballs at you and in a series of hilarious events, the secrets behind amethyst and arpeggio were laid bare.

Outta my Head by @straylightdream [☾][𖤓][✮][slowburn] 17k

He’s a lives next door and is someone who sleeps around often. You’re a nurse who is struggling to get enough sleep because of his night time activities

Enemies-to-lovers by @taelme [✮][slowburn] 21k

request: Hey! Can i request and enemies to lovers slow burn with bang chan where they dont like each other but theres undeniable chemistry

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄more to come!⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

☆--------Chan's masterlist || skz masterlist---------☆

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine impressing zoro

The bar was getting rowdy; live music playing, bets going, arguments starting and Zoro leaned back into his chair - eyes zeroed in on you. The crew was out for a celebratory drinks - Sanji had made dinner back on the Merry and Nami requested that everyone dress to the nines. This meant the black cocktail dress Kaya had given you back at Syrup Village. Zoro wasn't Sanji - he didn't falter at the mere sight of a woman and maybe it was the alcoholic drinks, but he couldn't take his eyes off you.

He wanted to think it was the dress, but he had seen you in it before and he really didn't care about clothes. Then he watched as Sanji passed out shots of whiskey to the crew, studying as you downed the shot effortlessly - slamming the glass on the table and demanding more.

"Pace yourself, love," Sanji warned but you flipped him off and demanded more. The cook laughed, shaking his head but heading to the bar for another round. Zoro chuckled at the interaction and you looked in his direction.

"I bet I can drink you under," you grinned, moving around the table to to take the seat across from him. Zoro stared and you challenged him until a burp escaped your mouth.

He smirked. "Under what? You're six shots in and barely standing."

Offended, you stood up, hands on the table. "Please, I'm not even buzzed. Come on, first to pass out loses and pays the tab."

Leaning forward, Zoro picked up the bottle of rum in front of him. You watched as he poured a glass for you, sliding it across to you. Sitting back down, you smiled sweetly at the handsome swordsman before downing the drink - eyes on him the entire time. When the glass clinked against the table, Zoro felt a tug in his heart and he knew he was going to be buying the tab tonight.

But he wasn't mad.

No, he was in love.

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

zoro tags:

@posessedbytheinternet @smolracoon25

@notthemainblog @xentaipriest

@xitara666 @rouzuchan

@southside-otaku @dimplewonie

@stuckinthewrongworld @yourmomsgirl

@zoroshispanicwife @reneeprika

@themossiestchick @cyberneticsmoker

@starrlovet @simpx4xanimexmen

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Omg this is my first time asking a request from you 😭💕

Can you please write about how the big tr guys (South, Mochi, Taiju, Draken, Benkei, Muto) react when they try to pick you up and you say you're too heavy for them? Both fluffy and spicy things if you can please? 🥰🥰

Big!TokRev Men Reacting To You Saying You're "Too Heavy"

♡ SFW, suggestive, fem reader, mostly fluffy honestly, slight size kink ♡

Characters: Draken, Taiju, Mucho, Mochi, Benkai, South

note: thanks for requesting anon 🧡 love me a big boy just like SZA said fr

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Draken

🐉 He understands where you're coming from and reassures you that you're not heavy to him

"Darling, I promise I ain't gonna hurt myself. I can handle you. As a matter of fact, let me show you how light you are."

🐉 Lifts you up against the wall to show you how easy it is to lift you, and does it again later that night (new position unlocked ✨)

Taiju

🦈 Doesn't verbally disagree, just lifts you up into his arms to prove you wrong

"Too heavy, huh? Seems like you're pretty light to me."

🦈 Has the most smug grin on his face, literally thinks he's the strongest guy in the world

Mucho

🔷 Politely disagrees with you but he won't press the issue

"If you really don't want me picking you up, then I won't. But I definitely could if you needed me too."

🔷 Lifts you up later on just so you can reach the kitchen cabinet, definitely hits you with a "told you so"

Mochi

🍡 Why would you say that in front of him? Now he's on your ass for the rest of the day because what the hell are you talking about? Too heavy? For who?

"Too heavy? Sweetheart you're like a mouse in comparison to me. You're literally so tiny... actually, let me show you just how tiny you are to me."

🍡 You better cancel your plans for tomorrow because you won't be able to walk in the morning, this man got you in a headlock while he's hitting it

Benkai

🏋🏼‍♂️ Do you see this man's muscles? He's laughing in your face if you say you're too heavy

"You're what? Ain't no such thing as too heavy for me. Watch."

🏋🏼‍♂️ Picks you up like a weight and starts deadlifting you (he probably does that shit to Waka too 😭)

South

🎻 Ignores you and picks you up regardless because he knows you cannot be serious

"That was real funny love, as if I couldn't pick you up. Besides, you're the perfect size for me."

🎻 He will be spending the rest of the night holding you extra tight and no you don't have a say in it

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten

[gallawitchxx]

hi beeee!! i hope you're doing okay 💖💖💖

ooohohohoho okay for the kiss thingy: god knows why cuz it sounds potentially very painful but i feel so compelled to request 28 🙏

sweet deanna! i'm hanging in, thanks love! 💖 so you & @lingy910y both requested #28 & i want to fill both of your prompts. but because you were (rightfully) afraid of pain, i gave you one that's a bit strange, but has a promisingly happy ending? you can be the judge! xx

- - - - -

send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚

- - - - -

#28: ...as a lie ps. this is inspired by this post about dealer!mickey & insomniac!ian, who have now rotted my brain.

Ian hasn’t slept in days.

It’s happened before—endless energy is one of his tried-and-true symptoms of mania—but this isn’t that. He’s taking his meds, his skin isn’t crawling and his mind is fairly quiet. Quiet enough to frustrate him as he tosses and turns and wonders what the fuck’s going on.

His schedule has been all over the place lately; his normal routine lost to the endless cycles of employment and Gallagher family responsibilities. He’d been hoping to add school to the mix this semester so that he could have other, less hectic options than a rig-riding EMT, but he’d pushed it off. A pity, now that all-nighters are apparently his thing.

Night two, he googles a few things, which is a huge mistake. Who can fall asleep after reading about how even just twenty-four hours without sleep can begin to derail your bodily systems? Sleep deprivation can cause or worsen conditions like Type 2 diabetes, High blood pressure, Stroke, Heart attack—his pulse leaps as his phone clatters to the ground.

Night three, he takes to the streets, running around the Southside until his lungs burn and his knees wobble. As he passes the clinic that gave his seventeen-year-old self a lifetime prescription for antipsychotics, he knows that if this lasts much longer, he should call his doctor. Tell them his nighttime meds aren’t putting him to sleep anymore. Nip this insomnia thing in the bud before it can overthrow the delicate balance he’s worked so hard to maintain.

Night four, desperate and a bit delusion, he pulls up a number he hasn’t used in years, saved under a contact labeled, DO NOT TEXT.

He breaks his own rule: Hey. Still making house calls?

The response is almost immediate: the fuck u care for?

Ian rolls his bloodshot eyes, typing: It’s an emergency.

Three little dots herald a response that makes him laugh: a weed emergency?

He stays strong: Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.

The next text makes his chest clench: u ok?

He decides to keep it vague—I can’t sleep, but it’s not what you think.—and hopes he doesn’t have to explain further and is relieved to read: u want ur usual?

Another clench: Indica

Two texts arrive in rapid succession: what else do u want? can i give u head while u smoke or no?

There it is: the reason Ian doesn’t use this number anymore.

Maybe in another life it would be a blessing to have a weed dealer to lovers arc with your childhood crush, but in this one, it was a curse. A curse that lasted almost a whole year, bringing with it an endless bouquet of blissful fucks and free weed, and a million moments of tenderness Ian knew nobody else was getting out of the guy. A curse that eventually came to collect payment in the form of bloodied knuckles, broken hearts and ego wounds. A curse that still clings to Ian’s psyche, filling his dreams with gentle, tattooed fingers and bright blue eyes and a sweet and savory scent that can only be described as Mickey.

Mickey, now DO NOT TEXT.

On second thought, maybe he should never sleep again.

The knock at the door makes him hard—a Pavlovian response that irks him more than the three sleepless nights he’s suffered so far. Three raps, one right after the other. The last one no more than a brush of his hand.

Ian adjusts himself and answers the door.

Fuck, one look at that smug asshole and he’s immediately right back in it. Lust and like and maybe even a little bit of reckless fucking love fill his body, rising to the surface like sweet cream. A layer of fat on the roof of one’s mouth; a treat to lick later, a reminder that they didn’t end things because they weren’t insanely hot for one another and potentially soulmates. They were just idiots. Stubborn, petty dicks.

Oh Pride, the great slayer of men.

Jesus, he needs to sleep.

“First one’s on the house,” Mickey says as he crosses the threshold, a joint held tightly between C and K.

Hours slip by. They laugh, they smoke. It feels like old times. Ian’s body is loose in a way it hasn’t been in years. It feels good. Like maybe-he-could-sleep-tonight good. And as he melts further into the couch, he starts to get a little horny too. Because Mickey’s yapping on and on about some asshole that frequents the bar he works at, and Ian’s listening, he swears he’s listening, but he’s also staring at Mickey’s mouth like he wants to take Mickey up on that text message and shut him the fuck up with his dick.

Like he wants to taste the stale smoke of his tongue.

Wants him to stay the night.

Forever, maybe.

Mickey finishes his story. His eyes go soft and he drums his fingers against his knee. “Should get outta your hair, Gallagher,” he says. “Letcha sleep.”

That’s the last thing Ian wants.

“Not tired,” he fibs.

Mickey cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not? ’S been days, man. This shit’s gotta be hittin’ ya by now.”

It’s true. It has been days and this shit is hitting him. Or maybe he’s having a sleep-deprivation-induced stroke. He just knows Mickey can’t go.

“Can’t go to sleep without a goodnight kiss.”

Mickey’s already leaning in when he asks, “Then you promise you’ll hit the hay?”

Ian nods as Mickey presses a kiss to his lying lips.

[wishyouloveme]

mickey milkovich rich bitch headcanons

song rec for fic:

Warnings:Terry Milkovich

A/N: hii. I kinda might have sort of quit writing? I don't know anymore,but right now I'm not writing anything unless it's requested!

Pairing: Mickey Milkovich x reader, a tiny bit of Mandy Milkovich x reader

requested? By Anonymous,May I please request headcanons for mickey from Shameless about him having a Northside girlfriend? She kinda of ditzy(but smart in her own way) and she's sweet and posting his bail(her parents are rich or she got inheritance or whatever) whenever he's gets arrested for assaulting whoever is flirting with her. Also she's cool with Fiona and always gives her and Debbie her old clothes whenever she goes shopping. Ps she's always invited Fiona and V to go shopping"

Headcannons under the cut

× You and Micky met through Mandy,having met Mandy at school,and bonded through having shitty families.

× Mandy brought you by the house,and unsurprisingly Mickey hated you immedietly. The way your hair was so damn shiny, the way your clothes fit you oh so perfectly,and the way your jewelry fitted your personality so well.

× He only ever figured out your home situation when he heard you late on night,talking with Mandy after a particularly hard fight with your parents,and after that you two were stuck together at the hip

× The first time you agreed to go out with Mickey,you two went for a walk and talked,not very romantic i know,but I feel like Mickey would much rather take a walk with you then be stuck in a stuffy restaurant where he had to dress all fancy.

× When you were walking with him,and a guy comes up to you and flirts,you not realizing,thinking he was just being nice and basic waving off all his advances,so naturally Mickey beats the shit out of him.

× When you posted his bail,you immedietlg scolded him for getting blood on your new skirt,to which he apologized with butterfly kisses and play fights.

× All of the times you went shopping,he always hated going,but would go anyways,because you were going,and he always wanted you near him.

× When youd buy a new perfume,if he hated the smell,you never wore it again,due to him mostly just smelling you 24/7 when you guys cuddled.

× I feel like when he first heard you were giving Debbie your clothes,he'd complain,he'd bitch,he'd be flabbergasted as to why you wanted to give away clothes. He never had that connection with them,so he never understood how you did.

× Then you two were in bed,he never wanted to actually do anything,with you,surprisingly he was okay with waiting,and just spending hours talking.

× Once you guys actually did it,he was so loving afterwards,massaging your legs so you weren't sore,pressing kisses to your sweaty body,and helping you shower when you could barely stand.

× The first time you ever met Terry he mistaked you for his dead wife,and Mickey immedietly dropped in,protecting you and beating the shit out of his father.

× Surprisingly,when Terry wasn't a drunk Jerkoff (so barely ever) you two actually got somewhat along. He reminded you of your dad,which,made you immedietly want to curl up and cry.

× Before you and Mickey got together,you always hung out with Mandy,sharing everything,a lot of people thought you two were gay,to which you immedietly said no,and that you were straight. You and Mandy might have flirted a little,but it was all friendly,and never actually meant.

× Of course that all stopped the minute you got with Mickey

×Mickey dreamed about getting the hell out of Southside, and thankfully,you had the money to help with that.

× You two bought a little house outside of the city.

[sashi-ya]

THE JAKDF VANS hibino kafka x f! reader. +18. explicit

⋆ requested by: @southside-otaku Hiya lovey, I saw your slots were filled on the Kn8 event but was wondering if you could open one more for a fem reader and Kafka using a praise kink (it goes both ways and they just praise each other through the whole thing)? Thank you so much for all your writings! ~South ⋆ tw: mdni. explicit smut. oral. car (van :P) sex. nipple sucking. praising both, loving each other so much, expressing their love through sex. ⋆ wc: 2.5K // event masterlist // tagging: @kpopluvr95

A soft smile flies his way. A big smirk reaches you from the other side. With Kafka is always that way; his presence is enough to make you happy.

A chill night has fallen and covered the sky with its dark mantle. Little shiny dots blink on it, as embroidered with silver cosmic thread. Sore muscles, sleepy eyelids; still some energy to rest with your squad comrades.

It’s become a habit of you all, to hang on the hills until dinner time. The little vans of the JAKDF bring you to the top of the hills within the Tachikawa base, and they are often used for your sweaty anti kaiju suits to rest aside. Sometimes, even, allowing you to prepare some food in case you decide to have some little picnic after training. Tonight, however, one of those little vans, will be useful for yet another purpose…

When most of the crew has left for comforting baths and a so needed bed, two of you have decided to stay for a little longer.

“The night looks beautiful…” Kafka says, coming closer to you once the last van except yours have parted.

“Indeed ~” you purr, crawling on him. You’ve been waiting for this, for your frame to be finally surrounded by Kafka’s. You’ve been waiting for your nose to bury on the crook of his neck, and for your palm to slid under his black compression shirt. He got the habit of wearing them from Soshiro, and you are happy he did.

“But not as beautiful as you, (Name)” Kafka continues, laughing like a silly boy right after.

Oh, you dumb, big, huggable, kissable, biteable man… 

You nuzzle on him, inhaling the scent of his skin. Delicious traces of manly effort, to become the best, to be a good soldier, reaches your nose. A desperate need to bite invades you, and so you do.

“Nom” you joke, carving your teeth on his flesh.

An instant growl ripped out of his throat came with your biting. His hands squeezing your waist, pulling you closer to him; shortening the distance -if there is any at all- in between your hips and his crotch.

“What a naughty kitty…” he whispers, sliding his hands down your buttocks until your thighs. Seconds after you are lifted up, surrounding his hips with your legs, clamped at him as he helps you not to fall.

“I can’t help it, even sweaty you smell and taste so good, Kafka-kun” you murmur, biting and kissing more and more. 

A shiver runs through the Kaiju hybrid; those words… the praising, the love, the adoration he is only used to show, it is now being shown at him, by a woman as beautiful as you, as strong and amazing as you.

Kafka needs you, right now, completely naked, all for him. Feral instinct taking over, that’s not exactly from his Kaiju side, but from his most inner, deep, dark desires.

He turns around with you still in arms and kicks open the back door of the van. Absolutely amazed, you realized he has not only became stronger than before in his human form, but the way he acts right now has nothing to do with his usual funny, cute ways.

“Listen, I know you deserve a king-sized bed with every possible luxury in this world. And I promise you’ll have it, but now, love… allow me to make love to you”

“There is no bigger luxury than being yours, Kafka~”

He sighs, loudly and needy, and your lips seal one with the other’s. A passionate kiss, that’s the type of those being censored on movies, takes over. Tongues dancing, wet playing… so lustful, so needy.

Out of breath, he puts you down for some seconds so that he is able to close the doors of the van. Now, both of you are safe to let your inhibitions go free.

Kafka invites you to sit on the van seats, he is aware there isn’t much space, but it is better than the dusty back used for storage. He sits first on the passenger seat and then extends his arms to help you sit on his lap.

“There we go…” he murmurs, sitting you comfortably on top of his crotch, allowing your core to experience how hard he is.

You squirm a little bit on top of him, making him painfully grunt. The way your leggings graze his trousers must be considered both a torture and a pleasure.

You reach for his face, placing each palm on each of his cheeks. Squeezing just a little you pull him closer to your mouth as you bend to reach for his lips.

“Aren’t you the hottest? Aren’t you the best?” you whisper playfully, allowing that man to breath those words in before attacking your lips.

“That’s just a little bit of everything you are, baby” he answers back, praising everything you are. His goddess; the woman he doesn’t even think of standing right by, but always under to kiss her feet.

Surely and dominantly, he pulls down the zipper of your boiler suit. Obsessed, Kafka smirks; how comes you are wearing nothing underneath? You took the anti-kaiju suit and only slipped inside the coveralls?!

“You like what you see?” you purr, brushing his hair back as you watch him get lost into the turgor of your chest.

“Ngh… more than that, babe… I’m obsessed” he grunts, cupping your breasts into his hands to play with them, to take them to his lips, to squeeze them with precise pressure.

Your muscles tense as he begins sucking on your nipples; little bites on one of them while his fingers pinch the free one.

Every window, every glass surface on that van, gets steamed by the heat of your needy bodies. An extra hint of privacy you both didn’t notice for being so into each other’s bodies.

Your muscles tense, and so your hips do as well. You begin jumping, grazing, going back and forth over Kafka’s lap. Over Kafka’s hardness.

His fingers bury on your thighs and ass, helping you go up and specially down; he wants your sex pushed against his sex, as lust blurs his mind and leads the way.

You can feel the twitching underneath you; how desperately those pants get wet, precum stained, probably a mess. You wonder if it’s difficult for him to tame his inner beast, to stop his wild secret to be revealed, to take over the situation… to make you a victim, to be eaten by the monster he hides inside.

And you are getting eaten, but not exactly but his kaiju side. It is him, his humanity that’s desperate…

“Come here, allow me… ngh” his words cut short by unstoppable moaning coming from your continuous humping.

Kafka wants every piece of clothing off your body; like a butterfly gaining his wings, a metamorphosis to turn you into his nymph… naked, exposed, flesh ready to be ripped, tasted, devoured… no! bitten, softly! Think straight Kafka, this is you… not Number 8.

As the suit gets stuck on your hips, your feral lover lifts you up from his lap and deposits you next to him; it is a blessing those vans have one chunky seat joined for both the driver and the passenger side.

Turned to face him, he finally rips the legs part off. Spread wide opened by his big hands, he finally gets ready to taste your dripping core. Soft moonlight filters through steamed windows, shining silvery reflections on your smeared juices.

“Just… how can you be that perfect, love?” he asks, kissing your inner thigh with more than care; Kafka is moved by pure adoration, by pure devotion.

“I’m desperate for you, Kafka…” you moan, curling a chunk of his black hair in between your fingers.

He comes closer, more and more to your hot core. Inhaling your perfume, already gloating at what he is about to feast on.

Your right heel falls on his waist, as he is bent on the seat, to lift your hip enough for him to be comfortable. And you to be, exactly, on a silver platter.

Kafka slides his index from your clit to your entrance, as his lips purse and fall on your whole core. He sucks; using his tongue while he does to wander the ups and downs of your sexual lands.

Gripped to the steering wheel, your nails carve marks on the leather material as your hips lift even further. His mouth gets glued to your femininity; getting his chin completely messed up with your juices, and probably the tip of his nose as well.

His index, that soon also gets accompanied by his middle finger, are also inside you. Pumping, going in and out, in beckoning motions hitting your inner walls.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna mess the van- you- Kafka you do it so well- ngh…” you moan, pulling his hair to lift his face off your sex.

“Do it; I’ll clean it up” he mutters, cleaning from your arousal elixirs the commissure of his mouth with the tip of his tongue.  

You giggle; pulling him to top you completely.

“Shush, I want your dick inside of me…” you whisper, reaching for his now aching, desperate, about to burst bulge. “But first, I’d like to taste it… I’d like to feel the heat of it on my throat”

Detrimental for his mental health, those words were. If he still had some self-control, he had now lost it.

It was enough with your skilful hands to unbuckle the belt holding his pants up; a single swift motion freed him from that clothing jail. Toes to the rim of a completely messed up underwear, also enough to pull it down until strong thighs.

The perfect anatomy this man holds; the slight bump of his belly, so kissable, so deliciously tempting you to fall for deep maternal instincts… because he looks so much like the man you would love to give a child to.

“Let me give you pleasure, love. I – don’-“ he wants to argue, perhaps, on who deserves more than him. But you aren’t allowing it; if there is someone in this world who deserves to be praised and bathed in the most exquisite delights is none but him.

“Shh…” you giggle, surrounding his sex with your palm. There is something special on touching a man from underneath, with pumping motions coming in and out towards you; Kafka’s thighs begin to tremble, muscles spasming as your jerking off delight goes faster, increasing rhythm, increasing pleasure.

Slowly, but surely, you help him to sit back again. His forearm landing on top of his eyes, covering them, while his head gets thrown back.

You keep on pumping, up and down, with a palm coated in precum; with fingers drizzled as well. Kafka’s grunts and moans are like music to your ears, and now the tip of his dick is also a delight for your lips.

A stream of clear arousal forms in between the tip of your tongue and his purplish sex; Kafka’s eyes fix on it as you take some air to get ready to swallow his shaft entirely again.

“Babe… I won’t be able to hold…. Much longer” he grunts, trying to resist the urge to bury your head against his crotch.

Your eyes, teary from the many thrusts against your throat, meet his turquoise ones. Concupiscent look in yours, a frown tinted in depravity; like a demon, like a succubus, inviting that pure heart to sin.

“No, fuck it. Come here” he exclaims, taking the reins back again. He detaches you from his sex, helping you to straddle on top of him once again.

He hugs you, close enough to trap his hardness in between him and against your lower belly. A mess creating on your stomach, anticipating how warm it will feel once deep inside.

“I love you, my goddess” “I love you more, babe”

Almost without even trying and with a simple motion, his tip is already penetrating you. His chin, resting on your chest, right in the middle of your breasts. Pleading, and still dominant, he looks up at you. Your arms, pinned on the small of your back, held by one of his hands.

You begin to move, up and down, desperate. His hips wont let you do all the work by yourself, however. Thrusts destroying your insides, deliciously forcing your walls to spasm and milk his shaft.

Kafka attacks your nipples, out of control fucking you with no mercy. He doesn’t care if half Tachikawa hears your whines. In fact, he actually wants you to scream louder.

“God, you were made for me” he grunts, giving you the last few strikes. He can feel that indeed, your insides, were made for his sex.

You, about to lose control, can barely mumble syllables; Kafka is right, you feel like your insides were made exactly for him…

“Fill me up, love…” “Your wishes are orders, my sweet goddess”

[ashs-cardboard-box]

First meetings

~ Dutch Van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews/Teen!Male!Reader

~ Familial (found family)

~ 1.5k words

CW; Mentions of hanging

Request :3

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You fucked up– big time. Committing crimes in a rapidly developing town like Blackwater was stupid, you knew that, yet what other choice did you have? Tears welled up in your eyes as you peer down at the crowd from atop the podium, noose placed over your head and lying across your collarbones. Thirteen and sentenced to death by hanging for repeated crimes of thievery, robbery, and assault. Unfortunately, the law had caught you.

You tried your hardest to get away from the lawmen after you, but they swarmed you like flies on shit. Your hands were bound behind your back with some excess rope, just to prevent you from struggling. Humiliating and terrifying were an understatement. As soon as you felt a boot in your back propelling you off the wood, you were convinced this was how it would end for you.

That was, however, until you heard a gunshot, then hit the ground with a painful thud. Disoriented and confused, you used it to your advantage. Clambering up to your feet and running in the first direction your legs would carry you. The voices calling after you were drowned out by the loudness of your heart in your ears.

Your arm and shoulder ached terribly. The soles of your feet were scraped up due to the roughness of the stones lining the Blackwater streets. Your muscles were burning with exertion as you continued to run as fast as you possibly could– panting like a madman.

Coming across the lesser developed Southside, you only stopped running to take cover in an old alleyway. Your legs felt incredibly shaky as you stood and tried to catch your breath. You’ve never felt more focused on your surroundings in your entire life. Yet there was a question that burned in your mind. Who saved you?

Sliding down the brick wall until your bottom rests on the dirtied ground below, feeling your hands start to go numb at the awkward angle of tension. Your eyes darted around swiftly in search of something you could use to help you get free. Spotting an old shard of glass, you shuffle over towards it.

Slowly standing back up, only to step through the loop your arms have created, putting your bound hands in front of you. Bending back down to pick up the glass and getting to work. Sawing and stabbing at the rope awkwardly, making slow progress. All the while keeping your surroundings at the forefront of your mind like a cornered animal.

You only manage to make it a fourth of the way through until you hear people calling out for someone. Shooting a brief glance over your shoulder to make sure they aren’t looking for you, only to meet their eye through the entrance of the alley.

You’re quick to lift your hands and point your shard of glass in their direction in an attempt to ward them off, though they only chuckle.

“Easy now, son. We aren’t gonna hurt you..” The first man speaks calmly, lifting his hands up in surrender. His eyes darted over your frame just as yours did his. His short, blonde hair sat neatly atop his head, combed down professionally. A blue blazer topped his white, collared shirt, tucked into faded blue jeans. His boots scuffed against the ground as he approached you like an animal prone to attack.

“Just put the…glass- down, kid.” The second man speaks up, just a bit behind the first with his hands resting on his belt. His black hair was slicked back out of his face, though a few strands flew out of place after chasing you down. He seemed just as tidy as the first gentleman. Wearing a red button down shirt underneath a rather expensive looking dark gray vest. Just barely reaching the waistline of his pinstripe pants.

“Stia indietro, signore! Non si avvicini!*” you shout with a slight crack in your voice. Pushing yourself back away from the slowly approaching men, brandishing your glass shard towards them. Your words cause them to halt in their step. Looking towards one another in a mixture of confusion and amusement before they look right back to you. (*”Stand back, sir! Don't come any closer!”)

“Uh-” The second starts, clearing his throat with a brief glance off towards the entrance of the alley before he looks right back to you. “What is that? Italian?” He questions, causing the first man to look over at him with a shrug, then returning to you with a single step in your direction, causing you to wave your glass as a threatening reminder.

“Do you- uh.. Hable.. English?” The second presses with uncertainty. Your eyes rapidly flicking between the two of them warily, nodding slowly at the man’s poorly managed question. The first sighs and slowly lowers his hand down to his side. His movements are slow and deliberate as he moves towards a sheath resting on his hip.

“Do you want that rope offa you?” He asks hesitantly. You did, desperately. It was rubbing your wrists raw with all of your struggling and sawing. But you refused to ask for help from these two. So, you just scowl at them defensively. That doesn’t seem to deter them however.

While the first man approaches you carefully, the second stands back with his arms folded over his chest, staring down at you. “What’s your name, boy?” the raven haired man inquires, but your eyes remain on the man with the knife. You don’t respond to his question. The grip on your glass tightens ever so slightly as the blonde kneels down in front of you.

The second man sighs and leans slightly to be able to watch if you’re going to cut the other man. To his surprise, you don’t. You’re far from compliant, still pointing the shard at the first man, but you don’t cut him. You sit still as his knife cuts through the ropes.

“That there is my good friend Hosea.” the man continues with a nod towards the man kneeling in front of you. You shoot a brief glance over towards the second man before you look back towards Hosea. He’s being extra careful not to cut you as he tucks the sharp edge of his knife underneath each layer of the rope binding your wrists together.

“Had it not been for him, you would’a been another hangin’ body.” Those words catch you off guard. What did these men want with you? Were they the ones who shot the rope? “Shut up, Dutch.. You’re the one who pulled the trigger.” Hosea chuckles with a small grunt, cutting through the last of the rope around your wrists, causing it to fall into your lap. Looking down at your wrists, you can see the indent marks from the twisted twine pressed into the surface of your skin. It stings from the amount of friction put on the area.

“Was still your idea.” The man, Dutch, continues with a small shrug. The two of them look at you with sympathy. Their eyebrows pinched together and a frown creeping across their lips. “You alright, kid?” Hosea asks as he slides his knife back into its sheath.

You look back up towards Hosea, then to Dutch, then back to Hosea. Your confusion and wary evident on your face. “Y/N.” you mutter quietly, slowly putting your glass down on the ground behind you. “Hurts..” you whisper as you gently rub your sore wrists. You knew Dutch was right. Had they not saved you, you would’ve been dead.

“Yeah.. it will for a bit.” Hosea confirms with a curt nod. Putting his palms on his knees and slowly rising back to his feet with a small groan. He glaces over to Dutch, giving a directional nod towards you with a quirked eyebrow. The pair are almost speaking telepathically with one another. Dutch sighs and steps closer to you, staring down at you.

“Look.. Y/N.. we have a gang. It’s- well..” Dutch pauses, watching as you push yourself to your feet and dust your palms on your thighs over your pants. “You’d be the first person to join, aside from us two, of course. We’ll keep ya fed and clothed..if ya want. You ain’t got a family, do you?”

You slowly shake your head, but don’t say anything. You couldn’t lie and say that didn’t sound good. You weren’t sure the last time you had something to eat that wasn’t from the trash or out of peoples’ hands. 

“Then it’d be a plus for you. Think of it like an.. Unconventional family.” Hosea chimes in with a small shrug, hooking his thumbs on the pockets of his pants. They seemed to tower over you as they stare down at you.

It was probably yet another stupid idea on your behalf, but what did you have to lose? You owed it to the men, of course. Just to humor them for a little while. With a sigh, you nod. They seem pleased with your response. 

Dutch uncrosses his arms and places a hand on your shoulder as Hosea steps out of your way. The two of them leading you out of the rotten alley and back through the streets of Blackwater, protecting you entirely from any sort of lawmen out looking for you. Maybe, just maybe, things wouldn’t be so bad.

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Your request was a bit too similar to a story I had previously written so I had to change it a bit- still hope you like it !! :3

Please don't kill me for the Italian </33 I don't speak it whatsoever

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

okay like i know we all joke (?) about kafka's kaiju form being a biblical need but at the end of the day i just love human kafka and his lil stubble and his cute tummy and his adorable grin. he's just so boyfriend material i wanna smooch him 😭

A/N ::: Good God, Bri. You don't know what you've started with this ask. I went a little off script? Unhinged? Idk ... somewhere along the lines of quite unwell for this man. Like, it's not cute anymore. It's getting really close to psychiatric intervention (at my request) 🤣

I would look forward to the times I got to wake up in the morning, hopefully next to him because nothing in the night pulled him away from me. I'd be so happy to get out of bed and do morning stuff with him. Maybe showering - and it doesn't even have to be anything sexual (but hello???). Just that closeness.

And yeah, his soft, wet tummy pressing against your wet body. Both of you sliding against each other as you talk about silly, inconsequential things like what you dreamt about or what you want to have for lunch today. While you're shaving his chin, prepping him for the day, he is already thinking about showing up where you're at and surprising you with something that you said you were craving a week ago, but you haven't mentioned since because things have been so crazy that you barely have time to breathe, let alone think about what you're going to eat that day.

When he does show up with food, you see him walking across the parking lot and you run out to meet him and jump into his arms. You both just stand there on the sidewalk, clinging to each other. Talking about how much you missed him and how lucky are you to have such a great man that listens to your blabbering and takes notice of when you say something that you want/want to do.

He feeds you the first bite because he wants to see when the flavors hit your tongue and your face lights up (he moves his hand away a lot faster than you do when you take a bite of something). The look on your face is nothing short of orgasmic - but he just laughs at the joy you're expressing over something as innocuous as a bite of food. That's what makes him the happiest - when something so simple can bring you such contentment.

And when it's time for him to go, you walk hand in hand to where he's parked, and he pushes you against the door of his car and he smooshes himself against you and puts his forehead against yours and thanks YOU for letting HIM bring you lunch. He talks about how much he loves that he can do little things like this - ok, too far? Idk. I'm in complete Lala-land over this man.

And he wraps that discussion up with a sweet, slow, soft kiss to your lips that leaves you kind of breathless. It's not the usual kiss he gives you when you're saying goodbye in the morning or hello in the evening - unless he's trying to sway your disposition.

But this kiss is almost a promise that better things are to come.

Staying true to his unspoken word, you walk in the door and all of the lights are off. In electricity's place, there are candles lit and scattered all about the living room. Something smells really good but it's not food.

It's Kafka. He's wearing a cologne he tried a couple of weeks ago when you were out at the mall. He tried it and wore it very well that day - really, for the next 8 hours after he put it on.

In those hours, you couldn't keep your hands or mouth off of him, much to his surprise/pleasure.

He heard the front door close, and you call out hello to him and he came from down the hall. Your eyes met; you noticed right away his brow was quirked in a suggestive way.

You were on him like white on snow and you had the best end to an already amazing day.

I WOULD GIVE UP SO MUCH TO HAVE THIS MAN BE MY BOYFRIEND. Goddamn it, I love him so much.

@supersecretsaga @kazutora-kurokawa @katkusuo

@reiners-milkbiddies @southside-otaku @darkstarlight82

@trevengersprincess @arlerts-angel @bakubunny

@viburnt