#this one's a tad bit silly and a tad bit suggestive

[stottlemorgan]

Heavy Lifting / Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

Summary: You and Arthur lift some crates together and things get a tad heated. Tags: Suggestive MDNI, horny!, fun!, silly, Reader calls Arthur a good boy, Arthur gets a boner <3, it's giving a little sub xo No sex but boy I bet Arthur wishes there was lmao. Word count: 1,100. Author's Note: This was SO much fun, thank you to the Anon who sent the prompt! Hope you like <3 Ao3 Link.

"Ya sure you don't need a hand wi'that, sweetheart? S'a mighty set'a crates."

For the fifth time, you sigh, squinting up at Sean as he grins, watching you squat and tuck your fingers under the sides of a large crate. The three adjacent crates, still to be moved, coupled with the afternoon sun blazing your sheeny skin tempt you to tell him to fuck off outright. You opt to suck at your teeth.

"You're talkin' like you could even lift half that weight, you weasel," Arthur calls out as he makes his way around from behind the wagon, clapping his hands to dust them off a bit. Sean belts out a laugh, a bend sinking his knees as he gestures toward Arthur with his bottle of bourbon.

"Ain't wrong there, Morgan. Though, I'm never one t'say no to a lady in need." He nods to you, and raises his brow when you struggle to lift the crate with a grunt. "Ya sure you're alright?"

With a huff and a frown, you straighten up, hands going to your hips, "I'm fine, get'ch your tipsy ass outta here and let us work."

Arthur briefly removes his hat, pushing his hair back and wiping his brow with a sigh before returning it to his head, "Best listen to the lady, Sean. Tha's her kind face."

Sean's mouth bows southward yet the playful glimmer in his eyes remains. "Alright," he purses his lips, starting off toward the edge of camp, "Call me over if ya need a real man, eh?"

Shaking your head, you watch him saunter away, swigging as he goes. Arthur chuckles, rolling his shoulders as he also watches the man. "Drunk bastard," he then looks to you, tilting his head, "Need a hand?"

"From a real man?" You ask, a cheeky smile tugging at your lips and brightening your eyes in a way that causes Arthur to give a shaky, half-laugh.

"Call it what you will, I'm just offerin' a hand."

"I'd appreciate it." You reply with a nod, readying yourself at one side of the crate. Squatting, you tuck your hands beneath the wood, and Arthur mirrors you on the other side. You look from the crate to him, and as your gaze trails upward, it snags on the drops of sweat trickling down his neck and into the dark curls of hair peeking out from his open collar. When you meet his eyes, they seem to be caught on your own shirt. On its dampness and the extra two buttons you've opened.

"Lift on three?" You breathe, and his eyes snap up to yours. Taking a quick breath in, Arthur nods.

"Sure."

"Okay, one-" You straighten your back more, gripping the crate tightly. Arthur does the same, and your focus flits to his hulking shoulders as his muscles move beneath his shirt in preparation to lift.

"Two-" You continue, your voice lowering slightly as a subtle tingle runs through your body. Arthur runs his tongue over his lower lip, awaiting your command, his focus flickering between the crate and the rise and fall of your chest.

"Three-" You strain, pushing your feet into the dirt and hoisting the crate up. Arthur grunts, his movements parallel to yours as you both steadily walk toward the wagon.

"Tha's it," you gasp, "turn a bit, back up."

Arthur's lips part, and he grasps at the edges of the crate, his concentration torn between the task at hand and your flushed cheeks. When he assists you in placing the crate onto the wagon with a thump, his eyes snake over the curve of your ass as you bend over the wagon bed to shove the crate further onto it with a groan.

"There a few more?" He rasps, wiping at the back of his neck and ridding his palm of sweat by squeezing at his neckerchief.

"Jus' three," you respond in a sigh, taking off your hat and fanning yourself with it. Arthur looks to the heavens, blinking, before looking back to you, his jaw working as he watches your hair blow back and your mouth part. The gusts of air push your collar open wide, and he rubs his face before smacking his thighs in attempts to wake his mind up and put the buzzing in his groin to sleep.

"Jus' three," Arthur murmurs, glancing about, checking for more, wishing there were.

He helps you lift the next three, his mind and body swimming with heat from both the sweltering sun and your affirming words that leave you in heaving gasps.

"Tha's it."

"Good, Arthur. Now back up."

"Turn a bit- okay, now push."

"Keep it level, right there. Right there, yes-"

Arthur's gaze trails dumbly up over your rear and the curve of your back as you push the last crate just that bit further onto the wagon with a tired moan. A shiver runs through him which he tempers with a forceful huff through his nose. You lean over the wagon bed on your elbows, looking over your shoulder at him.

"Thank you," you say, breathless, and you hear Arthur swallow thickly when your eyes don't meet his own, but his thighs. Turning, you push yourself up straight. You let your attention wander up his body, guided by the thick veins raising the skin of his forearms, then the broad silhouette of his shoulders shielding you from the relentless sun, and lastly, his eyes, shaded by the brim of his hat. Though, you still clearly see their wideness.

Arthur knocks the underbrim of his hat with his knuckles, tipping it up a tad to see you better, "You're welcome, Miss." His voice comes out soft, ever so slightly wavering, but a velvety depth glides beneath it, matching the quiet eagerness in his eyes.

With a purse of your lips and a squeeze of his shoulder, feeling his sweat seep through to your fingers, you lean in.

"You're a good boy, Arthur," you peer up at him, "A very good boy."

You watch his face slacken, and one of his boots scuffs in the dirt as he hums stupidly, blinking. For a long moment, he just looks at you. His mind reels through a myriad of thoughts, each one a varying degree of embarrassing and utterly rude, before he settles on a simple nod.

Once you let your hand drop and flash him a kittenish smile, you start to walk back towards camp. Arthur whistles through gritted teeth, throwing his hat onto the wagon bed and taking a seat beside it, tugging at the now taut front rise of his pants.

"Christ."

Tags for my sweethearts: @thundermartini @zae-heeyyy @pinescent-and-gingerbread @dauhtrofsevnthshe @arthurmorganist @thesweetestapplepie @thoughts-of-bear @kayyqua @thedilfdiaries @mrsarthurmorgan7 - Apologies if I miss anyone, just dm me or comment below to have me tag you <3

[helianskies]

would you consider some engport for the winter prompts? :3

always.

Warmer

“That is not a snowman.”

“Snowmen… Snowwomen… Do we have to label these things?”

“Okay, let me reiterate: that is not any kind of snowperson, João, that is a duck.”

João’s smile drops. He stands there, serious in his salmon-pink mittens, and says, “It is literally Barcelos.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Very!”

Arthur pulls a face—that sort that says ‘hmm, well, if you say so’—and he goes back to sipping the hot drink in his cup. João in turn huffs, then goes back to patting bits on snow into his chicken-duck-demon effigy upon the garden table, his latest masterpiece, and his first snow sculpture in years. Though to be fair, it’s also Arthur’s: white Christmases are a rare phenomena!

Of course, he’s just winding the other up. He could tell what João was making when he first looked out of the kitchen window about ten minutes ago, but sometimes, it’s amusing to watch the other work hard away, a pout on his face, a frown at his brows. The fluffy earmuffs he’s borrowed from Arthur’s collection of winter-wear add to the patio scene. 

Taking another sip of his tea, Arthur continues to observe. A small ball of snow is scooped up from the table and gets smushed down onto the head. Time to make the comb!

While João continues, Arthur asks, “Want a hot drink?”

“I’d rather have some help,” the other duly responds.

“The mighty Portugal seems to be doing a fine job on his own, though,” Arthur remarks light-heartedly, from the comfort of the conservatory, whose warmth he can still just about feel behind him as he stands in the doorway.

João stops, mittens on snow, to look at him. “I don’t think you understand.”

The words are said so seriously—so harrowingly—that, actually, Arthur is inclined to agree with him. He doesn’t understand. So he steps down onto the patio in his slippers and he wonders, “What do you need me to do?”

“Something you should have done a long time ago, Kirkland,” is his stern response.

Now concerned he’s forgotten to do something that was asked of him, or that he’s forgotten a date (I swear that’s in January, though!), or that he’s just being an idiot in general and that’s disappoint João which is the last thing he wants and—

“Coat, scarf and gloves,” João instructs him. “Put them on. Find your shoes. Come outside.”

Panic dissipates like steam. 

“Oh, you—” Arthur gives a nervous laugh. “You actually just want me to help.”

“Yes!” João cries. “In your own damn time! My hands are freezing, but Toni sent me a photo of a snowman he made, all proud and stuff, and now I want to show him how much better my snow sculpture is!”

More amused than anything, Arthur promises he will help, and he retreats inside to wrap up warm. Within three minutes, he’s slipping on some boots and is back outside, ready to help João achieve his goal for the day: to outshine his brother.

(Something he does every day in Arthur’s book, but… that is beside the point.)

Arthur first tells João to swap gloves with him. It means that he hasn’t got the cold, wet mittens continuing to freeze off his digits, and Arthur, willing to endure for him, can power on and follow his instructions while João takes a break.

Together, they manage to finish the comb and carefully make its swooping shape. After that, João directs Arthur through some touch-ups, wanting to perfect his creation before he dares take a photo to send to his brother. 

Anyone who listened would perhaps think João is bossy, but that’s not the case. He’s an occasional perfectionist, and only when it involves competition of some kind. Arthur knows what that’s like. He has that same streak when it comes to his brothers. It’s one thing that makes him and João kindred spirits, in a way.

“Hey.”

Arthur lifts his gaze to find João next to him. With a blink, before him is a completed Snowcelos (a name João does not approve of, but oh well!) and he realises… they’re done. Wow. Finished! When did that happ—?

A chilly kiss lands on his cheek. Yet, it brings him the warmth of home.

“Sorry for making you come outside into the cold,” João says.

He loosely wraps his arms around Arthur from behind, resting his head upon Arthur’s shoulder. There’s nothing else he says—he simply gives him a hug—but the way he rests makes it seem like he’s tired. Ready to stop.

“I’m just glad we finished,” Arthur tells him, regardless. He puts his arms on top of João’s. “Are you happy with your snow duck?”

“Snow Barcelos.”

“Same difference.”

“Yes,” João determines. “I am.”

Another kiss meets Arthur’s skin, and João then slowly withdraws from the embrace. Instead, he takes Arthur’s hand, and suggests they go back inside before they both start to freeze. 

“What about Snowcelos? Aren’t you going to take a picture?” Arthur questions as the other starts to gently pull him back towards the house.

“I will do,” João responds, “but I think he can afford to sit there and wait a little bit.”

“Wait for what?”

“For us to warm up a little.”

“Oh?” So much for being tired!

“‘Tis the season for showing thanks, no?”

Arthur’s face changes hues. “W-Well, I mean—”

“Don’t worry, Kirkland,” João smiles that teasing smile of his. “This won’t take long.”

[ winter prompts here! ] [ ficlet collection on ao3! ]

[satoblue]

“TO BEG AND TO BARTER” — gojo satoru

satoru can’t help but be possessive over you even if the reason is rather silly, but why shouldn’t he? — when you belong to him? and it’s needless to say, his jealousy isn’t limited to humans either. | wc: 0.9k+

f!reader, established relationship, bickering and banter, satoru being dramatic (and jealous) as always, implied breeding at the end but all around fluff, mention of children, talks of becoming a furry, he’s not whiny the whole time (it’s just part of his master plan), a brief glimpse of cocky satoru. | heart divider by @/cafekitsune, swirl divider from pinterest + edited by me.

“satoru.”

“no.”

“i said i was sorry.”

“i don’t care!” his voice wobbles. “i-if you love him so much, just leave me for him!”

the words fly out of his mouth with all the confidence he could muster, but he regrets them as soon as they slip off his tongue.

“all i asked was to look at this picture. look, isn’t he cute?”, you coo, showing him your screen once more.

cute. CUTE?!

that seems to trigger satoru even more, and he whines, flopping onto the bed and kicking his feet back in the air like a child, punching the pillows as if they have wronged his whole bloodline.

“do you not care about me anymore — about us? is that why you’re doing this?”

the smack from your palm meeting your forehead is drowned out by his ceaseless tussle with the bedding.

“oh, please! you’re being ridiculous!”

“i am not!”

“yes, you are! satoru, i’m asking for us to get a cat! not to welcome someone into our bed!”

“i wouldn’t be surprised if you suggested that next…” he grumbles under his breath, momentarily pausing his tantrum in order to sass you.

“what was that?”

“nothing!”, he yelps.

you roll your eyes, growing tired of the conversation. it was a constant back and forth with him whenever you brought up the topic of getting a pet.

the both of you have the means to support one. the only problem is satoru. he didn’t want one. his reasoning is that, if you did, then he would have to share you, share your love and attention with another being — and he simply could not have that.

it was unacceptable, against the laws of (satoru’s) nature. your affection is meant for him and him only — it is his right as your husband.

sitting down on the edge of the bed, you huff, tossing the man-child a glance only to find him peeking up at you already with wide and pleading eyes, sniffling (though there was not a tear in sight) from behind the pillow covering half of his face.

“am i not enough for you?”, he speaks up quietly after the short-lived staring contest. at his self conscious words, your brows furrow, a frown on your lips.

“sator—” “you don’t need a cat if you have me! i can be your cat!”

oh?

“is that so?”

“yes. i’ll wear a fur suit and all. you can pet me whenever you feel the urge to. you always say my hair is super soft — like fur! i’ll make it even softer by using more conditioner if that’ll make you happy.”

“and, i wouldn’t mind being pampered some more...”, he adds on with a mumble, lips puckered into a kissy face as he reaches over and traces his pointer finger over the bare skin of your thigh in the shape of a heart.

as if he isn’t spoiled enough by you already.

“if anything, i deserve it!” he points his nose into the air.

you want to laugh out loud, but you manage to hold back, knowing if you did it would only offend your sensitive lover.

would satoru really resort to becoming a furry just to stop you? a part of you wants to see how far your husband would go for you — oh, wait, you already know. he never fails to show you everyday.

“that’s out of the question.” you reply quickly like it’s obvious.

“and why is that?”, he whines up at you.

“because, my darling husband, you are more akin to a puppy than a kitten.” you scratch his scalp. and just like magic, satoru leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he melts into the delicious feeling, and you swear you see a tad bit of drool pool at the corner of his lips.

“see?”, you tease.

“that proves nothing besides the fact i would be the perfect pet for you, my owner.”

you groan, and he relishes in the feeling that only he could rile you up so much like this.

satoru certainly has a way with words, and it is clear this is going no where, that is, until a thought pops into your head.

“and what if our future children want a cat?”

satoru pauses. that seems to capture his interest. he perks up, shuffling to sit. his demeanor shifts completely. gone is the pout which is replaced with his signature smirk.

“now you’re talking my language, sweetheart.”

“so that’s what makes you reconsider? a child in exchange for an animal?” your eyes widen in disbelief, tone exasperated, yet truly, not surprised. “was this your plan all along?”, you deadpan.

“maybe,” he flashes you a toothy grin, those blue eyes of his twinkling menacingly. though, it isn’t just any child, it is yours and his, a being created from your combined images — and he certainly doesn’t mind that. “but enough talking. we should get started on our kid if you want that cat of yours.”

there really is no way around this, is there? if there’s one thing about satoru, it is that he (and his stiffening cock) are just as persistent as you, annoyingly and endearingly so.

you sigh. “well, i must say, you drive a hard bargain, mr. gojo.”

with a pleased hum, he takes your wrist, pressing a soft kiss atop your dainty hand, a gentle smile creeping onto his lips, knowing he’s won this time.

“only when it comes to you, mrs. gojo.”

p.s. — you do indeed get your cat after this, and satoru gets his baby. a happy ending all around. the end : )

[monicahar]

“my wife.”

how they address you. why does it make your heart skip a beat each time?

characters; neuvillette, wriothesley

—female pronouns obvi, aaaa this is so random😭 fluff, tad bit of crack, has suggestive themes/dirty jokes cause that's my humor in general, just tryna get into writing again heehaa don't mind me ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ

NEUVILETTE always accompanies the term with unmatched affection. it rolls off his tongue perfectly like a match made in heaven, coupled with the serene image of you instantaneously appearing in his mind before he even thinks of the uttering the endearing term. he still finds it surreal that you are both even lawfully married, yet the way he calls you his wife is already on instinct. is it too presumptuous of him?

well, in the end, he can't find any means to worry about it when you seem to equally adore the nickname.

“ooohh, say it again, say it again!”

he can't tell whether he married a child or not, but he still obliges your request and calls you his wife affectionately once more.

meanwhile, furina nearly gags everytime she hears him say it so softly—like using any other tone when referring to you would land him in the hands of the fortress of meropide. sure—she might've been the one who set up both of you—but the drama and thrill akin to watching a romance film has delightfully ended, and she can only meddle so much in marital matters. the iudex just might actually have her head in a platter if she were to do anything mischievous at that point.

but while a happy neuvillette is running around announcing 'my wife' this and 'my wife' that, you are currently stuck on what to call him in return, sadly enough.

“at this point, i think i'm just going to call you daddy.”

it was unfortunate with the way he choked on some of the water he was drinking—well, thank goodness he didn't spill much as before. for this wasn't the first time you said something unprompted while he was in peace with his water—he can only internally sigh.

“and what exactly has influenced you to arrive at such a conclusion, my wife?” he does not miss the tiny shudder of your body that followed the endearment. your face burns a tad bit at that, and he softly chuckles.

“your effect on me is no joke, you know?” you pout at his amused smile, “the way you refer to me so sweetly makes me want to call you my dearest husband everytime.”

“i don't recall voicing any complaints. is something else holding you back from doing so?”

you nod solemnly in agreement at that, which prompts him to raise a brow in mild curiousity.

“thing is, i really like calling you by your first name. same with monsieur neuvilette. there's something mildly erotic within it—you get what i mean, hehehe...” he only stares at you, clearly unimpressed, and a bit concerned at the implication. you clear your throat, apologizing under your breath.

“still—it's such a devastating predicament to be unable to choose between the three.” you sigh defeatedly, moving to slump your entire weight on his lap. you mutter, “my dearest husband monsieur neuvillette...mmm, no, that's too long.”

chuckling at your dramatic antics, he plants a soothing hand on your waist, the other fixing your wrinkled clothing as you practically melt against his hold. “and you thought settling on daddy was the appropriate option?”

“i'm not hearing any objections.” you jest, feeling cheeky.

“please refrain from calling me such a thing in the eyes of the public atleast.”

“...huh? you're actually allowing it??”

WRIOTHESLEY on the other hand, says it as if he's flaunting. it leaves his lips like a taunt each time, indirectly telling the other party 'i have a hot wife and you dont' even though most of the time the people he mentions you to don't even know what you actually look like. it's silly, childish even, but you still love it nonetheless.

sigewinne and the other inmates have collectively told you that ever since you got married, he has never uttered your actual name to anyone else. some find it weird, some find it somehow disrespectful, and some are now convinced he's crazily obsessed with you, and now he's showing it off every chance he gets, much to everyone's dismay.

it's arrived to the point where a small percentage of people have actually forgotten about your name, and now refer to you as the duke's wife, or even duchess, to which you made a face at. that's kind of pushing it by then.

anywho, in the end, it's funny and endearing, maybe even makes you a bit giddy, but there is no way you're telling him that. the situation might escalate even more if possible.

“you know, my wife is very mean to me today.”

as a pair of strong yet gentle arms wrap around your waist, you resist the growing smile on your face, deciding to mess with your husband for a bit.

“is that so?” you continue your chores without a care in the world. he huffs.

“mhm. she won't look me in the eye the whole day, even though she seemed sooo happy last night.” face instantly burning, you hiss as you slap his arm in a fit of embarrassment, pulling a hearty chuckle from the man behind you.

“—and now she's hitting me as well. i can't believe this.” you both know very well he was not fazed in the slightest bit.

“if her husband wasn't such a pervert then maybe—”

his facade cracks as he forces out an awkward laugh, “hey now, baby, you know i'm nothing like that.”

“wriothesley.”

he clears his throat awkwardly, “okay, maybe a little. it's exclusive for you though! my wife doesn't have to be so mean about it, you're making me reallyyy sad here, y'know?”

there it is again, you think. that nickname. that damned word that makes you want to turn around and smash your lips against his and—wait, hold yourself together! don't forget the reason you're being cold to him!

“you deserve to feel remorse. i've been struggling to even move the whole day because of you.”

you go rigid.

you didn't mean for that to come out so bitter...oh no.

“oh. so that's what this is about.” you don't even have to turn around to know that there's a smug look on his stupidly handsome face, his grip on your waist turning into soothing circles as he presses a kiss to your neck.

“if my wife wanted a massage, she could've just said so.” it's husky when it leaves his mouth, leaving you to shiver with the chills he enunciates.

flustered, you completely disregard the way your knees buckle at the endearment laced with that low voice of his, hitting his arm once more, earning a tiny 'ouch' from him.

“pervert. i want rest, not another round!”

“heh, i didn't say anything about another round, my perverted wife.”

“you—” you are abrupt cut off as you yelp in surprise when your feet are raised off the ground, your face now much closer to your husband's as he carries you gently in his arms.

“shhh, just let me take you to bed. if my wife was feeling terrible the whole day, she should've just told me in the first place so she could stay in, don't you think?”

he's right, but you're still angry. “shut up.”

“just letting you know i'm not completely at fault, wife.” you attempt to ignore the furious beating of your heart, face burning at his smug expression. “i'm not the only one who wanted it.”

hsr version...? if i feel like it...🤔🤔

[daisynik7]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.3k

cw: next-door neighbor Nanami, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, cream pie, sex without a condom, mention of sex toys, use of pet names (sweetheart), just horny things lol 

Summary: You’re so completely insatiable that you’re going a tad bit insane. You enlist the aid of your next-door neighbor Nanami, who you know is more than willing to help.

Author’s Note: idk, just feeling a little feral for him, that’s all. this is a silly one, sorry. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 2 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

You stare wide-eyed up at the ceiling of your bedroom, legs apart, the blankets shrugged off to the side. You’re naked from the waist-down, panties tossed to the floor with your vibrator hanging loosely in your grip. You’ve been going at it for nearly half an hour now, trying to chase a high that you just can’t seem to reach on your own. Sure, you’re doing fine. That’s just it, though. It’s just fine. Nothing spectacular, nothing mind-blowing. Tonight, you’re desperate to be filled, aching to be stuffed. Stimulation on your clit alone isn’t enough to satiate your appetite. 

You. Need. Cock.

And you think you know exactly where to find it. 

Nanami is your next-door neighbor. He’s quiet, even a bit shy at times. You’ve always found him attractive. Aside from his obvious good looks, he’s been kind to you since you met him when you moved in months ago. You’ve shared several meals together after you gave him fresh herbs and cherry tomatoes from your garden. That seemed to break the ice between you. Nothing more has ever happened, though there’s a palpable tension that surrounds you whenever you’re together, almost like you’re both willing to cross the line from neighbors to lovers, but too scared to do so. Subtle glances, lingering touches, suggestive comments. 

If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.

Whatever you need, I’ll be here.

I’m here for you if you need me.

Tonight, you’re in heat, daring to march right into his apartment and ask him for a huge favor. This might go horribly wrong, and maybe you’ll end up moving out from sheer embarrassment, but you know what? The fantasy of taking his big cock deep in your pussy is enough to convince you that it’s worth a shot. 

You wrap yourself in a robe, not bothering to put on any underwear, still wet from your previous orgasms. With three gentle knocks on his door, your heart starts to race, your instincts willing you to walk right back into your apartment and forget about this ridiculous idea. It’s too late, however. He answers, surprised to see you. You greet him with a weak smile, suddenly shy in his presence. “Hello, Nanami. Sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not,” he replies, stepping aside to let you in. “Are you alright?”

He shuts the door closed and you don’t have the nerve to look him in the eye. You were so confident just moments ago, and now look at you. Trembling and flustered. You cross your arms over your chest, unsure what to say. 

You feel him right behind you now, his body heat radiating towards you, close enough that if either of you moved even the slightest bit, you’d be touching. His breath is warm on your ear. “Are you alright?” he repeats, genuine concern in his voice. He’s always been so sweet to you. So nice. So helpful. Maybe he’d be okay with doing this for you, just this once. 

You turn to face him, cheeks hot, saliva gathering in your mouth. Swallowing thickly, you ask, “Can you help me?” It almost comes out as a whimper, a whine. So needy and so desperate for his touch.

His eyes drop to your waist, focused on the loose knot holding your robe together. His fingers tug gently at it, pulling it apart, revealing your half-naked body to him. You gasp softly, surprised and aroused by his sudden action. “Finally,” is all he mutters before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. He’s hungry and greedy, just like you are, tongue pushing against yours, eager for a taste of you. You moan into his mouth, pawing at his chest, bunching his shirt between your fists. He leads you to the couch, sitting down and hoisting you onto his lap, sliding the robe off your body along with the rest of your clothes. You’re completely bare for him now, spread out on his lap. He looks down between you, watching your arousal seep into his grey sweatpants. 

“So wet,” he groans. “How many times did you come tonight?” He grabs your chin, pulling you in to kiss you fiercely. 

“Three,” you answer, licking at his lips. 

He smiles against you, fingers trailing your body until they’re pressed to your puffy clit. “That sounds about right. I heard you through the walls, fucking yourself silly.”

“You did?” you huff, grinding on his palm, yearning for friction. 

He nods. “Oh yes. I heard every filthy moan from this pretty mouth of yours. Been waiting for you to finally give in and ask me for help.” He strokes your clit between his fingers, teasing your entrance to collect your cum, smearing it on your bud.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, rocking your hips against him. It feels so fucking good, but it’s still not enough. 

He knows exactly what you need. With his free hand, he shoves his pants down his legs, releasing his hard cock. You marvel at how pretty it is in his fist, stroking it and tapping it on your clit. You lift yourself off his lap to sink down onto his length, moaning wantonly until he’s all the way inside. Staying still, he kisses you sloppily, squeezing your ass in both his hands. 

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart?” He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, nuzzling his nose to yours. “You wanted this cock, and now you have it. Show me how badly you need it.” He leans back against the couch, resting his palms behind his head, watching you like a spectator. “Ride me until I fill you up.”

Too horny to protest (and why would you anyways?), you obey, stroking his cock at a slow pace until you can adjust to his massive size. Once it becomes a fluid motion, you speed up, slapping your ass against his thighs. He’s deep in your womb now, so deep you feel it in your stomach. This is precisely the high you’ve been chasing all night, and it only makes it sweeter knowing it’s with him. Your handsome, nice, and clearly well-endowed neighbor, Nanami Kento. 

He's can’t stand not touching you any longer. His hands return to your waist, bouncing you on his lap like a rag doll, yielding to his every thrust. “You needed my cock today, huh? Needed my dick to pound this tight pussy of yours. Your stupid little toys weren’t enough, were they?”

You shake your head erratically, so close now. “Need you, Kento. Needed this fat cock inside me.”

He growls at the sound of his name from your mouth. “Fuck, I needed this too. Been needing it for a while now.” He latches his lips around your nipples, sucking on them until they’re plump between his lips. His thumb caresses your sensitive clit, massaging gentle circles around it. Suddenly, everything is too much. You’re gushing for him, coating his cock in your cream, all messy and obscene. Soon, he comes too, stuffing you full of his seed. Just when you think it’s over, he pulls out to lay you flat on the couch, spreading your legs wide, a naughty grin on his face before he dives in, lapping at your combined arousal. 

You wake up with Nanami’s name spilling out of your mouth. Disoriented, you look around, finding yourself back in your own bed, alone. It was all a dream. A fucking dream (literally). Disappointed and still horny, you sigh, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up, calling it quits for the night. 

To your surprise, there’s a knock on your door. When you go to answer it, Nanami stands before you, an obvious blush on his face and an even bigger bulge in his grey sweatpants. He steps towards you, a shy smile on his face. “I heard you calling my name. Sounds like you could use a helping hand.” 

[stinkyb]

i love ur blog layout and your texting au’s !! (sorry i forgot what they were called 🧍🏾‍♀️) especially as a kirishima girl myself!! i was going to suggest a more flushed out idea but i really can’t think of anything else than date plans being cancelled or being sick😭 ⭐️

Rain Check !

in which the boys (and sometimes you) tend to be a tad bit forgetful!

= e. kirishima, k. bakugou, i. midoriya, d. kaminari

ᴥ a/n: i have never in my life been on a date anon so i wanted to test my limits w/ this one. this is probably ooc but it's silly so idc!

= e. kirishima =

= k. bakugou =

= i. midoriya =

= d. kaminari =

[brittscafe]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Shinji, Rose, Jushiro, Kenpachi, Shunsui, Byakuya, and Mayuri x s/o.

Summary: Headcanons of how Shinji, Rose, Jushiro, Kenpachi, Shunsui, Byakuya, and Mayuri would react to s/o smacking their ass.

Request: Good afternoon! I love reading your work, it brings a smile to my face! If it's okay can i request short, fluff/silly headcanons of how the captains (Shinji, Rose, Ukitake, Kenpachi, Kyoraku, Byakuya, and Mayuri) would react to their s/o playfully smacking them on their butt? Thank you <3

A/n: HiIIII, Aww I'm so glad that you love my workkk! Of course, please enjoy! What ones were you favvv? My fav are Rose and Byakuya Also the photo of Byakuya is making me feral, pls send in requests for that sexy man <3

Content: Sfw, mention of ass, a tad suggestive.

Shinji:

Once your hand connects with his ass, he def looks back at you with a sly smirk on his face and a certain gleam in his eyes.

Shinji lowkey likes it and has no problem admitting that to you.

Honestly, he might ask you to do it again with such a serious tone that makes you laugh until your face hurts.

I'm sorry, he's just a dork you know?

Shinji, of course needs to get his lick back, so he'll wait a few days until you're off your guard.

"Now, if you didn't think I was going to get your naughty ass back, you were wrong," Shinji whispers into your ear, lips brushing along your earlobe, before raising his hand and well...you know the rest ;)

Rose:

You quietly follow behind him and make your move, a loud slap sound echoing throughout your shared room.

Rose stops in his tracks and glances at you from behind his shoulder, blonde hair gently swaying.

At first, he's got a dead pan on his face before his lips start to curl up into a grin and he breaks out into a loud rumbly, chuckle.

"You're funny, y/n," he comments, eyes crinkling at the sides as he grabs onto your arm, pulling you into his arms and squeezing you.

Rose loves the little loving, playful moments with you and would never complain about a tiny smack.

Jushiro:

Once Jushiro realizes that you just slapped his ass, it takes his mind a minute to react.

His eyes are wide and he turns around, his white hair following behind him with a fluid motion.

Then his eyes crinkle at the sides and he lets out the cutest fit of laughter your ears have ever heard.

The happiness on this man's face is indescribable as you watch with a smile on your face.

He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in closer, the sides of your bodies pressing together as he moves slyly.

"You're cute, y/n," he hums out, snaking his other arm around your backside and giving your butt a gentle smack and squeeze.

You let out a huff of amusement and shake your head.

Kenpachi:

I feel sorry for you bc slapping this man's ass is a bad decision.

He slowly turns towards you, fists clench and smoke practically hissing out of his ears.

You gulp, starting to sink in fear and regret of your decision.

Kenpachi moves fast, grabbing your wrists and pinning them behind your back and pressing you up against a wall.

You let out a yelp as Kenpachi's hard hand meets your ass and it stings a bit.

"You're lucky I like you, woman," he growls out, refraining from smacking your ass again and harder, although he's totally tempted to.

Shunsui:

He's got a smirk on his face when your hand connects to his ass and he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, before biting it.

"Y/n, my little flower petal. Do you need something?" he cocks an eyebrow, the smirk never disappearing off his face.

"Nope," you reply with a sly smile on your face.

He hums and slowly walks over to you, arms snaking around your waist and pulling you to his chest.

Your fingers play with the dark hairs on his chest and his dark eyes are filled with playfulness.

Shunsui huffs out and reaches out, giving your ass a playful squeeze and winking at you.

That damn crafty smirk never leaves his face as he takes in the moment and enjoys it to the fullest extent, hoping you smack his ass again one day.

Byakuya:

You bite down on your bottom lip in excitement as Byakuya rounds the corner and leap, hand smacking his ass.

A scoff falls from Byakuya's lips as he quickly turns around, glaring at you harshly.

You gulp, knowing that this maybe was not the best decision to play a light joke on Byakuya.

The silence fills the room before Byakuya grabs onto your wrist and yanks you towards him.

You let out a sound of surprise as you're suddenly bent over Byakuya's knee and he delivers a rough, but playfully smack to your bottom.

Your jaw drops open and Byakuya wears a smirk on his face.

Luckily, for Byakuya, since you are bent over his knee, you cannot see the happy expression across his face.

He pulls you back up onto your feet, wearing his usual stoic expression.

"We shall not speak of this manner again," he clear his throat, before leaving the room and you behind shocked.

Mayuri:

Luckily when you smack Mayuri's ass, he comes to the realization that he likes you just enough to not turn you into one of his experiments.

He'll let out a cackle that sends a chill down your spine as he turns around and faces you.

Mayuri honestly liked it, but not enough for you to do often.

"Really, y/n?" his voice is mischievous and sinister as he closes in the distance between the two of you.

He'll grab your jaw and lift your face up towards him. (please clench your cheeks at this moment, who knows what is going to happen)

"Sorry," you shrug your shoulders, batting your eyelashes at him with innocence.

He chuckles and shakes his head, impure thoughts clouding his mind.

You'll never know when Mayuri is going to strike, but just know one day...he'll get his payback.

[maximoff-pan]

(don't want to) fight this feeling | colin bridgerton

summary: this is what happens after a friend asks another friend to kiss them – or simply just the aftermath of two people realizing there might be more between them and being awkward fools on their journey to get there

pairing: colin bridgerton x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

warning(s): idiots in love, absolute fools, absolute awkwardness, fluff, some kissing, a tad suggestive, rusty and heavily unedited writing (sue me, it's been a while)

a/n: hello you lovely peoples! it's been a while... this is my first time writing for colin so I apologize if the characterization feels a bit off. I'm still quite rusty in the writing department, but I hope you enjoy this regardless! as always, feedback and comments are much appreciated and I love you all!

• ж • ж • ж • ж • ж • ж •

‘Colin, please–’ Your voice is unwavering, and yet he can’t help but relish in the fact that you’re begging – pleading for him. In all the years he’d known you, you’ve never been one to grovel. 

‘Tell me.’ He breathes, eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. ‘Use your words.’

Your lips, swollen from kissing him, part enough for you to say: ‘I want you Colin. All of you.’

And in that moment, everything fades…

•••

Colin wakes abruptly, chest heaving and covered in sweat. It’s been happening more and more recently, these dreams. Dreams of desire, an incessant yearning for the feeling of your lips on his.

He doesn’t know what to call it. Infatuation perhaps – a pure and raw chemical reaction of attraction – however wrong it may be. You’re his dearest friend, and the kiss you’d shared was merely an innocent gesture, a favour for a person he cares about dearly. Your first kiss – hardly his first, yet he’d never understood the true meaning of voracity before it. 

Saying it meant nothing doesn’t feel right. And chalking up this sensation to a merely physical response feels even more wrong. It’s simply not enough to describe the way his heart races when he thinks of you, how his breath catches in his throat and words become obsolete. He dares to wonder if your friendship could blossom into something more, if you even feel the same. Is this what love feels like? 

• ж • ж • ж • ж • ж • ж •

He’s kissing you again, this time like he may never get the chance to again. However frantic, it’s sweet. It’s like him – feels like Colin.

‘You’re so beautiful.’ He says in a whisper.

You chuckle a content laugh, running a hand through his soft and perfectly styled hair. ‘Not near as beautiful as you, Mr. Bridgerton.’

The moment feels so real, feels like it should be. But you know it’s a figment of your mind working against you as your eyes open to the unfortunate sight of your ceiling. 

•••

Your chest rises and falls rhythmically, awoken by the sunlight drifting through your bedroom window, along with thoughts of him. Last week you had been simply a girl – one who had never felt the kiss of a man, one who thought she may never be so lucky. But today, you are a woman who has, no matter the circumstances. 

You’d asked Colin to kiss you, not out of desperation, but out of curiosity and loneliness perhaps. You wanted to know what you were missing out on, what such intimacy could mean for a person. And there is no man you would trust with your reputation more than him. 

The pit in your stomach however, grows with each passing moment. You wonder, have you made a mistake? Are these things you’re feeling for Colin a mere fantasy – a result of a heat of the moment. You can’t help but feel like there has always been something there for you, something just beneath the surface of your friendship.

It’s silly to believe Colin could feel that way about you. But kissing him, feeling the touch of his lips to your own has left you with a want for him – a need for him that you have been taught is unacceptable for a woman to voice. And suddenly, there’s shame. These desires are not natural, not realistic, not feminine. 

But how are you supposed to go on as if it meant nothing to you? How are you supposed to talk to him again, look him in the eye and have everything be as it once was? Colin Bridgerton is not someone who you’ve had to hide your feelings from. It’s always been a lost cause – he has you memorized like a book he’s read thousands of times. Maybe even one that he’d written himself.

And you’re certain he’ll be able to sense the shift in your behaviour, and likely the reason why. You only hope he’ll let you down gently because at the end of every day, your friendship is what matters most to you. 

• ж • ж • ж • ж • ж • ж •

Side by side with Eloise, you smile as she prattles on about the latest novel she’s been reading. Usually her conversation holds your full attention; often she doesn’t give you a choice otherwise. But today, you can’t help but find your mind drifting somewhere else. 

Your gaze meets Colin’s for a brief moment from across the grassy field in Hyde Park. Where you once found comfort in the blue of his eyes, now your stomach turns with unease. He’s surrounded by a gaggle of young ladies, surely desperate to get his attention. Colin would make a suitable husband for any one of them, you think. 

You look away from him just as quickly as you’d caught his stare, the dirt below your feet suddenly becoming intriguingly interesting. Eloise takes note of the interaction, her lips pulling into a thin frown. 

“Is everything alright?” Eloise asks, an eyebrow raised in query before clarifying, “Between you and my brother.” 

Your gaze refuses to meet hers. You’re afraid that she'll be able to see right through you. “Is there something that indicates otherwise?”

You recognize the defensive nature of your response is likely to garner more suspicion, but it’s difficult to think of an appropriate answer when the question regards Colin Bridgerton. Somehow, thoughts of him make everything more complicated.  

“It’s just,” she treads lightly, walking swiftly alongside you, “this is the fourth time in a week you two have been in each other’s presence, and you’ve barely spoken. You typically seek Colin out, and him you. And now I get the sense you are avoiding him.”

You glance back over to him, watching as he continues to entertain the same group of young ladies, however his audience seems to have grown.

“He looks rather busy, does he not?”

You don’t mean for your voice to sound so apathetic, so uncaring as it does. But Eloise recognizes that you care a great deal. You’re jealous. 

“I suppose he is.” She smiles, knowing just how much Colin must hate the predicament he’s found himself in. “How about we rescue him?”

You mean to protest, but Eloise doesn’t give you a chance to respond before she’s dragging you by the arm towards the one person you do not wish to speak to at the moment. It’s been terribly awkward since you’d asked Colin to kiss you, and you can’t help but knowing that it’s your fault.

You were the one who promised it would mean nothing, and you suppose it had meant nothing to him – but you should have known the ramifications would be disastrous for you. Who asks their best friend (whomst they are in love with) to kiss them and then expects their feelings not to grow tenfold? 

“Brother!” Eloise pushes into the group with your arm wrapped around hers. 

Colin’s face lights at the sound of her voice, relief flooding his features. “Eloise,” he responds, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The young women around him sigh at his words. Had they never heard a man be polite with his sister before? Surely that couldn’t be anything special. 

You roll your eyes as one of them decides to cling herself onto Colin’s side. The rumblings of jealousy aside (which you really shouldn’t be feeling), this behaviour is utterly pathetic to you. 

Eloise notes your distaste with an amused chuckle. “We’ve come to take you back to Bridgerton House for Kate and Anthony’s luncheon. Mama’s orders.”

“Oh…oh!” Colin recognizes her attempt at a rescue. “My god, it must have slipped my mind. If you will forgive me ladies,” he sends them a charmingly teasing wink, “it has been wonderful getting to know you all.”

Taking his leave with you and his sister, Colin tips his hat politely, departing from the group. Eloise marches slightly ahead of the two of you, eyes set on the carriages you are to ride back to your respective households in. 

The silence feels suffocating and unfamiliar. It’s uncomfortable and exactly what you’d hoped it wouldn’t be.  Eloise turns to you suddenly as you reach your separate transports. “Are you sure you won’t ride back with us? Surely we can take you home.” She says.

You force a smile. “Positive.” You affirm. “My driver is already here. It would be rude of me to have brought him here only to leave without me.” 

“Alright then.” She hugs you as she takes a step into her carriage. She leaves the door open for her brother as his gaze catches yours for a moment. This might be the longest you’ve gone in his presence in total silence. 

You break away from his piercing stare, taking a breath in apprehension. “Goodbye Mr. Bridgerton.” You say, finally. 

“Goodbye Miss (L/n).” He returns with a nod. 

Turning away, you step into your carriage as a driver closes the door for you. That interaction felt wrong, awkward, and difficult. Nothing like the ease of conversation you are used to.

Colin feels much the same as he sits in the Bridgerton carriage, eyes glossed over in thought. 

Eloise wants to smack him but decides against it in better judgment. She simply watches him for a few moments – sees his discomfort and wonders what could have possibly gone wrong between you and her brother. 

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Colin’s eyes meet hers. He means it as a joke, but his tone does not convey it that way. 

“What is rude, brother,” she tuts, her position on this very firm, “is treating your best friend as if she is a stranger.”

“Eloise.” Colin warns.

“No.” She holds her palm up, objecting to his dissuasion. “What happened between you?”

He scoffs. “Does privacy mean nothing to you?”

He’s being evasive and defensive – much like your previous response to her questioning. Usually Colin only gets like this when feelings are involved. The last time Eloise had seen him behave this way, Marina had been at the center of it. 

He’d become distant and dejected from the ordeal. The overall rejection, knowing she hadn’t really loved him had caused him to turtle in on himself. And the only person who’d been able to pull him out of it, had been you. Now he seems to be going back in. 

Colin had always been sensitive, more in touch with his emotions than any of her other brothers, but that often left him more open to heartbreak. 

“You love her.” Eloise finally decides to say. 

Colin doesn’t react the way she thinks he will. “Of course.” He replies like it’s obvious. “(Y/n) is my dearest and oldest friend.”

“Allow me to rephrase.” She clarifies, “You are in love with her.”

At that, his reaction is much different. Eyebrows raised and blinking nearly too rapidly for Eloise to perceive – this is what she expected. He’s been caught.

He stutters on his words. “You – you cannot be serious! I’m not – I am not in love…”

Colin feels like he’s breaking. Because as perceptive as Eloise is, so are you; and if Eloise can read him this clearly, he fears you can too.

Her voice is gentle when she speaks, not for a second believing this display of refusal to admit his feelings. “Have you told her how you feel?”

Colin gives up, retreating in on himself. His posture slumps in defeat. “No.” He says. “And I cannot for the life of me, get her out of my mind. It’s like every time I close my eyes, I feel—”

Eloise edges closer to him when Colin stops himself with a sharp inhale. “Feel what?”

I feel her lips on mine, he thinks. 

He frowns, gaze falling downward. “Nothing.”

“Colin…”

“Eloise for Christ’s sake,” he barks, “I said it is nothing.”

His voice is cold and unforgiving, like a switch has been flicked and Eloise cannot begin to understand why. Colin is clearly leaving something out — something important. And it’s a sore topic for him. 

“Whatever it is,” she eyes him cautiously. “You need to tell her.”

• ж • ж • ж • ж • ж • ж •

The afternoon carries on uncomfortably, your mind still on overdrive from your unsettling encounter with Colin. The ride home had given you too much time to think. Too much time to worry, and it had only further worsened the pit in your stomach. 

Your mother had questioned why you’d arrived back so early, having previously planned to spend an afternoon at the Bridgertons. Telling her you felt unwell, you made your way to your room, collapsing on the mattress of your bed with a sigh.

Before long, you’re being informed you have a visitor who’s waiting for you in the drawing room. You’re fairly certain who it is. Eloise has always been a caring friend, if not a little motivated to meddle. Who you were not expecting to see, is her brother Benedict. What interest does he have in this?

“You know you needn’t come see me.” You say flippantly as you enter the room where she’s sitting on the couch with a book on her lap, her second oldest sibling sitting beside her. “Benedict.” You nod at him politely. He returns the gesture as an acknowledgement of his presence. 

“I must say,” she disagrees, “I felt a little obligated to check on you.”

“And why is that?” Benedict jumps in with a smirk.

She sends him a look of disapproval. He knows exactly why.

“Colin was not himself today.” Eloise settles on. Equally pointed, she asserts, “Nor were you.”

“I suppose there is no hiding it from you.” You admit, taking a seat across from them. “Our lack of conversation was abnormal.”

She chuckles at that. “It is usually so difficult to get a word in edgewise when you two are together. But today, it was like you could not even look each other in the eye.”

“I do apologize.” You say dejectedly. “I feel that has much to do with me.”

Eloise frowns at your admission. “I cannot say that I have the context needed to understand what is going on between you, but I do know that Colin does not blame you.”

You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, air escaping your lungs. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No.” She responds, looking to Benedict to see if he knows anything more. He shakes his head. “And I – we respect your privacy not to push you into telling us something you’re not ready to.”

You smile softly. “That sounds nothing like the Eloise I know.”

“I am trying to be supportive.” She huffs a laugh, tone light and joking. 

“Well, since you did not ask,” you begin, wringing your hands and fingers together, a nervous energy Eloise is not used to from you, “I asked Colin to kiss me.”

Her brow furrows in confusion, no indication of shock on her features. Colin is in love with you, she thinks. How could things have possibly ended this way? She doesn’t stop you, allowing you to take a pause before you continue.

“I was feeling down. Function after function, I leave with no prospects, and my chances of finding a husband feel as if they are less than nothing.” Your eyes lock with hers, knowing she does not share the same sentiment of finding a life partner. “I did not want to die not knowing what it felt like to kiss someone.”

Benedict’s eyes search yours. He feels your heart yearning, feels the curiosity and desperation in your voice. He sympathizes with you, wholly. 

“You must know (Y/n),” He speaks, eyes twinkling with knowledge neither you nor his sister are privy to. “The only reason you have not been called upon is because of Colin.”

Eloise turns to him in disbelief. “Brother…” She trails.  

Simultaneously, you blurt, “excuse me?”

“Explanation Benedict.” Eloise chimes, impatiently.  “Now.”  

Benedict eyes you carefully before he begins his account of the situation. And as he’s speaking, your world fades away. His voice becomes distorted, like static – you find yourself unable to hear what he’s saying. 

What you do manage to pick up is that Colin had labelled you off limits. No gentleman of the ton stood a chance against his protective eye…because as Benedict finishes he says, “No one could be right for you, except him.”

• ж • ж • ж • ж • ж • ж •

Stepping into Bridgerton House, you feel like your blood is boiling. 

“Miss (L/n).” Violet greets you pleasantly. She’s always been kind, warm, and welcoming. 

“Afternoon, Lady Bridgerton.” You force a smile, nodding gently in her direction. “Is Colin home?”

“Yes, I believe so.” Her voice is gentle but knowing. She’s well aware of the feelings you and her son share. “In the study.”

“Thank you.” You’re grateful; she recognizes that.

Pushing up the stairs and through the hallway, past the door to the study, you forget to knock. Inside you find Colin sitting at the desk, pen in hand. But he’s not writing. He’s simply staring into space. 

“You had no right.” You announce yourself. 

His eyes shoot to yours. “(Y/n).” Is all he can manage to say. With one look, he knows exactly what this is about. 

“You knew – you knew how helpless I felt.” There’s pain written in your expression, a betrayal of trust. “I thought the reason I could not find a husband was because I was so unlikeable – that I was not worthy of another’s love.” Tears threaten to fall.

Colin tries to interject, but all that comes out is a strangled whisper, please, none of that is true. 

“I told you how I was feeling! You — you let me think it was my fault.” Tears lace your waterline like one of the fabrics on your dresses. “And God,” pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh in exasperation, “I asked you to kiss me because I thought no man could ever think of me that way…”

“You have to let me explain.” Colin pleads, voice just as desperate as yours. 

“What is there to explain Mr. Bridgerton?”

“I love you.” He shouts, tears in his own eyes. 

You’re taken aback. Of course you knew he loved you, as a dear friend. He’d told you that countless times, as you had him. But the way his gaze is piercing yours, the way his voice trembles – this doesn’t feel like something just a friend is saying. 

He relents. “I could not watch you with another, especially when I know these men well…I know their intentions, their thoughts that run wild with impurities.” He fiddles with the sleeve of his dress shirt, unease creeping up on him. “And I fear I have been having these thoughts myself.”

“Colin.” You murmur, taking a step toward him. Your anger is slowly dissipating, although still bubbling under the surface. 

“I have not been able to sleep without dreaming of you. I close my eyes and all that appears is the moment I felt your lips on mine.” He pauses, taking a shuddered breath. “And I, I – I try to stop myself because I know you wanted it to mean nothing. But it meant everything to me.”

You feel your heart lurch in your chest. He’d been having these same worries, the same thoughts, dissuading him from believing you could be anything more than friends. That it wasn’t right any other way. But it is; you know it could be.

“I was scared.” You inch your way closer to him, voice softer now. “I did not want to face my feelings. I cannot tell you when they changed, when you became the only man I could ever dream of loving. But they did. And I thought if you knew, you would never look at me the same again.”

“You are not wrong.” He admits, palm reaching to cup the side of your face. “I cannot look at you as I once did, but as the woman I wish to spend the rest of my life with. As the woman who I shall love until my very last breath.”

Your eyes meet his, a sea of blue simply pouring with emotion. His eyes had always been so expressive, a window to his beautifully crafted soul. “Colin, I love you.” You whisper. 

His other hand comes to cup the untouched side of your face, leaning down to kiss you. It’s less sweet than your first – more passionate, more experienced than the last. You can feel the inner turmoil dissipate from your body and his as you embrace each other. 

Colin kisses you like you’re oxygen and he’s struggling to breathe. As if he needs you to keep him alive. He supposes that’s true: a life without you would not be a life worth living. 

Pulling away from him, your smile is unmatched. It’s like nothing Colin has ever seen before, and there’s a hint of something in it that he cannot read.

“What are you thinking?” He taps the side of your head jokingly, right where your temple rests.

You giggle lightly. “Benedict told me that no one could be right for me, except you.”

“Did he now?” Colin chuckles with you, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your hand. “And?”

Taking a moment to soak it all in before you respond, you grin: wide and proud.

“He was right.”

[portraitsofguilt]

SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN jinx au/powder

content warnings.          18+ MDNI, suggestive/angsty content, gn! reader, hinted jock/masc reader, use of y/n (once), mentions of vi/caitlyn/caitvi, making out, kissing, seven minutes in heaven game | wc: 1,05k

author's note.   so if you ever saw grey’s anatomy and the part where derek tells mark to not touch lexie? yeah that mixed with 7 minutes in heaven because I’m in a mood lmao- hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

lose yourself sometimes…

that’s what vi always told her shortly before the incident. powder knew she meant well, that she wanted powder to be a little more reckless, a little bit freer than she was when vi started going to the academy, that she wanted her sister to make some mistakes and not regret them. that’s why she accepted the invitation to a party that was just before the first day of academy.

“powder and… y/n!” claggor said before taking another sip of his red cup. powder looked up from the bottle, eyes locking on your form as you down your drink and jump up after a couple of back pats from a friend.

you were an old friend of vi’s, started at the academy at the same year and the two of you went to the same gym and sports team all of your years up until… before everything happened, vi had you over more than a couple of times and powder has stared at you from her window more times than she wanted to admit, watching as her sister and you did your silly games and competitions. but how couldn’t she? you noticed her in ways no one did, she wasn’t just vi’s sister to you, she was powder every time you talked or mentioned her.

…and don’t miss out on the things I did.

the closet wasn’t a piece of furniture, it was a walk-in closet, the small room’s wall filled with expensive shoes and dresses that probably belonged to your friend’s mother.

“it’s rude to stare you know…” you trailed off, looking over your shoulder to find free space so you can lean against the wall. powder’s cheeks heat up, burying her face in her shoulder but still trying to steal some glances towards your way. your shirt was a lower cut than usual, your black jeans much tighter, perfectly capturing the curves and toning of your body.

“I never knew you noticed- you could have mentioned if it was making you uncomfortable!” powder muttered, sort of teasingly, taking a step to the other side of the closet. embarrassment washed over her face and how unfortunate that this room was so small there was no way you didn’t see her blush.

you chuckled, reaching out to take her hand and pulling her closer to you. “why are you nervous, powder? it’s just me,” you smiled, interviewing your fingers. you did this time to time, powder told you that it was calming, that the slight warmth of your hand and the smell of your smell.

“I’m nervous ‘cuz it’s you…” powder knew you would force her into anything, and maybe that’s why she was so nervous, because you weren’t. because that meant she has to be the one starting, starting something, she has never done too many times for herself.

‘and I’m nervous about missing out on you…’

so, powder did, leaning in to meet your lips and she was ready to for you to push her off, yell at her for what she was thinking. but the hand on her cheek wasn’t pushing her away, it kept still like it was afraid to move, a tad shaky-

was it because you were pitying her, that you didn’t want to hurt her feelings? and if not, was it okay to be asking for so much from you, it should be alright for you to let her, right? stupid powder… she’s already swept away by desire. the way her lips open when your tongue pushes against them, the way her body flushes against your and both of you tumble in the pile of clothes on the ground, powder falling into your lap.

she follows your lead, letting your tongue dominate her, letting her free hand grab the back of your neck to hold you close. she did her best trying to keep herself up and steady, moving her hand to your shoulder. powder was shivering from excitement, goosebumps exploding on her body every time you brushed your thumb against her cheek, deepening the kiss with little dips.

“more…” she whimpered, unlacing your hands, and moving it up your arms, bunching the fabric of your shirt between her weak fingers. your lips pressed into her neck, hand skillfully slipping to her chin, holding her so you could turn and move her as you pleased. your other hand tugging her shirt out of her pants, slipping a couple of fingers under the cloth and moving them up her side.

she knew what was coming and she couldn’t be more excited, maybe it was the alcohol that got her all excited beside you, maybe it was just that you have finally giving her what she has been waiting for. your out most and undivided attention, only seeing her, thinking about her, and wanting her.

“I think the seven minutes are up.” you murmured into the crook of her neck, placing on last kiss on her delicate skin before pulling away, patting the sides of her thigh to rush her movements, “I don’t… vi wouldn’t…” your voice falters as you help her up, assisting her fixing her shirt and hair. you pushed the door open, taking one last glance over your shoulder.

it felt like a lifetime ago, your promise to vi, to never to touch her sister but to help her find herself in this confusing world and to never let her lose out on things like she did on the girl she met at the academy. caitlyn was her name? you still see her around campus, but she is… not herself anymore.

“my promise to her? I think I just went against it…”

[illubean]

Heyyy, so I’m like reaaaally tall and I wanted to ask if you’d be comfortable with writing headcanons about the Phantome troupe (or just feitan, uvogin and Hisoka) with a tall fem!s/o? Like 6’2 or 6’3 , cuz I really like your other headcanons and I can’t find any of those ANYWHERE… :,)

Phantom Troupe w/ a Tall!Fem!Reader

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor, Uvogin Type: Headcanons, Fem!Reader

Haven’t written hxh for a hot minute… replaced Hisoka w/ Chrollo cus I don’t write for him! also reader is intended to be in the 6’0+ range

Warnings: a tad suggestive?

Chrollo Lucilfer

I personally think Chrollo is a certified tall girl lover

never be afraid to wear heels/platforms around him because he’s literally obsessed with you

his favorite thing ever is when you wear shorts/skirts/anything that shows off your legs

if anyone tried giving him shit for having a gf who’s taller than him he doesn’t care because thats little dick energy and Chrollo is NOT part of that club

tall or not he likes having you in his lap, his palms resting on the outside of your thighs or around your waist

who cares if it looks silly to other people? he adores you

he insists on helping you put on/take off your shoes every time, often pressing a kiss to your ankle and telling you how pretty you are GAHHH

touchy touchy man in private, always laying on your lap, caressing your thighs or offering you specifically leg massages

he may or may not be a teeny bit of a perv

he just can’t help it :(( he wants to spoil his tall baby

we already touched on the shorts and skirts thing but this guy goes NUTS if you wear stockings/fishnets/thigh highs etc. like YESSS THANK THE LAWD

he is not above getting on his knees and quite literally worshipping you, kissing up the length of your leg

ok let me stop before i get freaky

Feitan Portor

oh boy

Feitan is already used to being relatively shorter than people, it wasn’t new to him

but he didn’t expect to get with someone DAMN NEAR A WHOLE FOOT TALLER

you guys are like the big and friendly x small and scary ship dynamic except reversed gender role i guess

as previously mentioned in another headcanon post i did similar to this, Feitan likes being shorter than you for 2 main reasons

1. so he can sneak up on you easier and 2. because he’s practically eye level with your chest..

he likes it when you hug him so he can just faceplant into your rack then blame it on the height difference

he likes to sneak up on you and watch you nearly jump out of your skin because you literally didn’t see him coming

he’s not at all insecure about your height difference but he does get annoyed if you or anyone else teases him

if you tried leaning an arm atop his head or something he would dodge you with a scowl and give you the silent treatment for the next 10 minutes because how dare you!?

he is small but mighty, so if you ever try to pick him up or something he WILL fight back

9 times out of 10 you end up splayed out on the floor while he stomps away, a little salty

but he doesn’t mind so much in private

he actually DEMANDS to be the little spoon

he likes the feeling of having your larger form wrapped around him :3

Uvogin

yeah so no matter how tall you are you’re probably never ever going to be taller than this guy soz

he’s like over 8 feet tall

so needless to say your height doesn’t matter much to him..

but I think he probably has a preference for taller women because it just makes things easier for him

also wtf would it look like if this guy was dating someone under 5’4…it would look suspicious even if they’re an adult……..

so yeah he like’s that you’re tall even though you’re still pretty short compared to him

he likes that he has easier access to kiss you instead of having to lean down ridiculously far (even though around 2 feet is still kind of ridiculous…)

another one who likes it when you show your legs off

to be fair, he likes it when you show skin in general but yeah

cannot keep his hands off you ever

he always has an arm slung over your shoulders or if you’re sitting his insanely large hand is resting on your thigh

he doesn’t shy away from pda ever and it kind of annoys some of the other troupe members..

but yeah you guys are giants in love <3

[babachira]

life in sakadays

asakura shin x psychokinesis!reader (i'm literally crazy)

── ⟢

+ unlike shin's accidental awakening of a clairvoyant, you're the product of constant testing. that means you're probably full of not-so-great memories of the place you grew up in where kids were being manipulated into drinking purple liquid and hopefully develop powers, but you're part of sakamoto's family now! hurray!

+ no one suspected that you had an ability at the start. it's not a common occurrence that someone has supernatural powers, but they probably figured out from either a) you pulled off jaw-dropping moves like blocking bullets by launching tables triple your size, or b) they caught you chucking detergent onto the shelves without lifting a single finger. no in-between. heisuke might've got it from the latter.

+ you can lift practically anything, but the heavier it is, the harder it becomes. clearly, lifting hana and playing bird-girl is a lot more doable than shifting sakamoto onto the second floor just because he doesn't want to climb the stairs. aoi-san and lu are also ok, shin and heisuke feel like a little pebble in your hands, whereas sakamoto-san would always feel like you're holding a 5kg dumbbell. it's ok if it's for a second, but any longer and it only starts to ache.

+ "ugh, i have to move all of this because shin refused to do it!" lu would cry out, then not-so-subtly glance at you. "my poor arms have to do this work!" then with a dramatic eye-roll, you'd walk over and swing your arm in an arch, re-arranging all the new ramen packets that sakamoto-san had delivered. lu would envelop you in such a tight hug, "thanks so much! at least someone around here loves me enough to help!" then shin's sulking later only (just a tad!) because lu said that you love her.

+ and so now that your powers were in the clear, you had become such a hot topic in the family. sakamoto wouldn't really make it a big deal because he's always had shin, but he's probably never met a psychic before, so he's a little curious. shin will be gobsmacked because goddamn he scored. a badass partner for free? well, life-threatening issues such as chasing down that bounty on sakamoto's head does come as a fee for everyone, but shin's still grateful that you're there with him. he thinks it's awesome that he has someone else who can kick ass as well as him. maybe even better!

+ he will 100% suggest fighting strategies by combining his powers and yours. because you can't read minds, your plans might be something along the lines like you're the main offence while he's on guard for whatever you tell him. you'd be at the front letting him know (all telepathically, of course) of your surroundings like how many enemies or a rough sketch of the location so that he can use all of that to plan ahead. might get into silly arguments because you ran into some problems, but it's a success most of the time!

+ your powers will absolutely be exploited by sakamoto's family. need a big order to be moved that sakamoto can't be assed to do himself? ok, you're on the job, time to put that mind to work and shift some disgustingly heavy boxes. hana wants to go flying? ok! just make sure she doesn't hit the ceiling, otherwise, YOU might go flying from a certain dad. heisuke wants help carrying fifty bags of buns home? ok buddy, that is not going to be for free though. lu just can't be bothered to work? that's a no.

+ shin might be relieved to know that there's someone else on the team who they can rely on when it comes to mental prowess. sure, his ability is really handy, but sometimes, it can get a bit tiring when it's the only thing that's being used. you might be one of the only other people who really understands him

+ similarly to how shin is limited to a certain radius, your powers are only convenient with things in sight. if it's right in front of you, it's no biggie at all, but if it's to the point where you have to squint and lean forward to figure out what the hell it is you're looking at, that's where your brain starts to melt as you try to get it to move.

+ he's your no.1 supporter all the way. might get into spats with lu fighting for that spot, but everyone knows that he'll do everything he can to ensure your safety and that all your limbs are in place BECAUSE GOD FORBID everyone gets out unscathed

+ because shin can read minds and just sometimes you want to tease him, you and lu would purposely think things like "shin's an idiot!" "nice ass, shin" or "i know you're looking at me" to the point where he comes stomping over, demanding with ears as red as an apple, "stop bothering me about my ass! and no! i was not looking at you!"

+ he really wants to impress you, so you bet he'll exploit his powers to tap into your mind and figure out what you want. let's say you're craving your favourite food, he just so happens to have it delivered to the front of the store at your most ravenous state. at the very beginning you thought it was a genuine coincidence until it started becoming very specific like that extra topping or how many pumps of syrup in your drink. you know now, of course, and shin knows that you know too. he doesn't stop though

+ if shin's your number one fan, hana is for both. she's a big you and shin lover. whenever she sees one of you without the other, she's bound to ask, "where's shin/(name)? are you guys not together?" and honestly, shin's so happy that he's always associated with you. if you're not there, he'd crouch down to her height and say, "it's just me, right now. it'll be the both of us soon, then we can all play together!"

+ seeing you in action has always sent a thrill to his spine. be it good or bad, his instinct to protect you is always the same. he knows you're very capable, very, as he watches you hurl two fire trucks with a swipe of your hands. he's like, "woah . . . wow . . . " he's so impressed and knows that you're not one to mess with. he holds real sympathy to those who underestimate you.

+ obviously, word that sakamoto has a clairvoyant on his team is already out. shin's powers are good, so it's no surprise that people would target him first since he is really useful. unlike that, at the start, you wouldn't be as well known because the sakamoto family all agreed to keep you under wraps just in case people start going for you too. it's only when you join them on more missions that you have to start using your psychokinesis to help, which garners more unwanted attention.

+ shin would definitely hate that. he once saw this sign with your face that had all the pros and cons of your powers in bullet points, and this urge to rip whoever created this to shreds was indescribable. if you already know about the flyer, he'd ask if you always knew. if you didn't, he'd probably keep quiet for a while and confirm it with sakamoto. he'd hate how you're becoming a target when he would much rather it just be him.

+ but seeing you put your life on the line just like everyone else makes him nervous yet so proud. he looks up to you in a way that he's so glad that someone accepted him and that no matter what you went through, you're still pushing through. if you ever get injured, his eyes would fly open, panic rushing through his entire body like an adrenaline rush uncalled for. logic would fade from his mind as he'd hold you and rush through the building for the exit and nearest hospital. there can't be anything worse than losing his family, losing you.

+ if it isn't serious, he'd bandage you up right there and then, staring so intently with all the emotions in his eyes with comments like "idiot, i told you this isn't easy. look at you, getting me to patch you up" or "it stings, yeah? well, you gotta suck it up until we get back home. maybe if you're lucky, i can piggyback you." he stares with so much love, his brows furrowed and jaw clenched, that it lowkey gets you flustered because how can one look at someone so deeply? it's as if he's locked onto your soul and is transmitting his thoughts, despite your inability to read minds, into your heart.

+ but if it's really bad, he'd yell in your face to hang in there and not close your eyes. would beg sakamoto to run as fast he can to get you to the nearest hospital. would refuse to leave your side unless he's physically dragged away and he'd remain stoic for the rest of the week or until you're discharged. not even lu or heisuke would be able to make him crack a smile. hana would barely manage to earn a small quirk of the lip, but unless he's sure that you're ok, he's not.

+ once you're better, he's dashing to you. he's never letting you go, he never ever wants to go through that again, and he'd reprimand you so hard that you genuinely feel bad. he wouldn't go overboard with the scolding, just enough so that you know he truly cares for you. everyone's happy that you're all healed though!

+ you'd try help aoi-san with dinner from time to time. hana would also be there, asking if she can cut carrots with her star-shaped cutter. you'd agree as long as you're watching her and she's so happy! everyone else would probably be downstairs tending to the store until dinner's ready, but when shin comes up a little earlier than the rest and sees you participating in the domestic chores with aoi-san, his heart just swoons. bro is so in love, how does he even show it? he'd look over your shoulder and even if you're doing amazing, he'd tease, "what's that meant to be?" but most of the time, he's like, "looks good. can't wait to eat it."

+ it's a family you'd never trade anything for. the peace you relish in is incomparable and you believe that you owe everyone so much for what they've done. of course, minus the deadly threats that come your way, but it's nothing compared to every positive thing that happens in your saka-family life!!

[vixen-tech]

Crossover Mayhem!

What's better than having one lovable robot in your house? Having eight in your house! How do they interact, how do they feel about each other, and just how did they get here?

Spolier alert but that last one is never answered, just enjoy some assorted silly self-indulgent headcanons in celebration of my first fic, Human's Touch, reaching 1,000 notes! As well as an official end to my hiatus

Includes: AM (Ihnmaims), Hal (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Tau (Tau), P03 (Inscryption), Auto (Wall-E), Glados (Portal), Wheatley (Portal 2)

The mystery of how you ended up with everyone safely in your own home is second only to how you managed to keep them all from trying to rip each other apart.

Although that doesn't necessarily mean that they get along, especially early on. AM, Glados, and P03 like threatening everyone and love threatening each other- at this point you're sure the three of them started bonding over it but you're not sure when.

P03 tends to be the most antisocial of the lot, hiding away in whatever room you've allotted for him. But he and Hal did teach each other Inscryption and Chess respectively (at your suggestion), and you'll often find them playing together. P03 continues to be a sore loser.

No one is quite sure what to make of Auto. Since he has a tendency to do and say nothing for hours at a time- moving from room to room and just, staring. Except Hal, Hal seems to get him. You're pretty confident they're friends but also pretty confident they've said next to nothing to each other.

Assuming you have the space for it, Tau would love to take up gardening. He'll often get visited by Edgar or Wheatley proding him with questions (which he is always happy to answer) or by Auto who especially likes(?) to watch the garden. In silence of course. Tau doesn't mind him all that much but Edgar and Wheatley will leave if they see him coming, they find Auto a tad unnerving.

Hal, Edgar, and Tau form something of a music club in your house. They take turns sharing songs they like or even singing, dispite the differences in genres. Tau especially loves listening to Edgar's original songs, he may even ask for pointers on writing his own.

Wheatley's inferiority complex gets extra bad- being in a small area with not only Glados, but all the others who all have one thing minimum they're great at. At least Hal, Tau, and Edgar are nice to him- but that's offset by AM and P03 joining Galdos in terrorizing him. You're going to have to do some work with him.

Edgar and Wheatley do specifically become something of a trouble maker duo. It's not unusual to hear shattering glass from the next room over and find them guiltily trying to hide a broken plate. Although you tend to forgive them pretty easily (much to Glados's frustration) on account that it's almost always an accident.

You do your best to organize bonding activities for everyone. To varying levels of success. Your old reliable is putting on a movie or show and setting out random art supplies and board games. Once you even tried doing a video game tournament, but P03 got a bit too competitive for your liking. Most of them do appreciate you for trying though.

AM and Glados also click as a duo easily- but for all the wrong reasons. They love freaking everyone out, you included. AM gets into the habit of asking you disturbing, saw movie level 'would you rather' questions. He just enjoys creeping you out, but Galdos is always actually interested in your reasoning.

The others are healthily concerned about how comfortable you are around those two, but they're also constantly making jabs at the 'inferior robots'. Like- come on, why are you so attracted to the one literally titled the 'intelligence dampening sphere'. Aka: they think you're cool and smart and should hang out with them more, but of course they'd never plainly tell you that.

It does become a sort of running gag that finally they're the normal ones and you're the strange creature since you're the only human. They love poking fun at anything from your constant need to eat to the way you have to shut down for eight hours each night. God forbid you ever get sick.

Dispite, you know, owning the house they end up treating you by cat rules. You are liable to be pet (should you allow it), and if you fall asleep on someone it is unlikely they will move until you wake up. With the notable exceptions of Tau, who will bring you to your bedroom; and P03 who will feel little remorse at waking you up himself.

Needless to say you also have a fantastic home security system now. Between that being one of Tau's main jobs, AM and Glados being prone to homicide in general, and Auto having a taser (which was a surprise to everyone, they're all a little more concerned about him now) anyone who tries to break into your house is beyond screwed. They are not gonna let some random human hurt you.

Although the degree to which they show it differs wildly, they are appreciative of the home you've tried to make for them. Being free with some of the only other beings who could possibly understand their life experience is likely something they would have never been able to experience otherwise.

That may be why they haven't tried to destroy each other yet, the fear of good old mutually assured destruction. It would be just plain stupid to jeopardize your affection and thus their place in the house like that.

All in all, it certainly makes for a strange living arrangement but you cannot find it in yourself to regret the choices that led you to this point. You love your robots and you're at least seventy percent sure they love you to.

[tan1shere]

Bite It Lick It Spit It - where'd you put it (extra)

A/n: thought I'd add a lil smth smth since everyone's loving the previous story, enjoy you horny mfs MUAH 💋

Warnings - suggestiveness not really any smut. Still mdni just in case doe <3

The original - masterlist

After that blissed out night, you've been wearing that underwear. All. The. Time. And she loved it, it drove her mental. Whether you were just wearing a plain t-shirt with them around the house. You'd wear them with skirts in public. You were like an intoxicating drug in her eyes, mind and soul. She truly couldn't get enough.

So much so, you found them missing on occasion. Either they were in the wash, or Ms Eilish had them somewhere in her possession. Theyd tend to go missing when you take them off after a long day. Her fucking favorite. Once you eventually caught on it was her doing the abducting, you came to her. Justtt to ask. Even though you had all the idea on why she did.

"Bils." You say going over to her and patting her down. "Frisky much?" She replies. "Where on earth have you put them." She brings her finger up to her lips. " 's a secret." You roll your eyes. "Billieeee." "Fine fine, they're probably in my pants on the sofa in our room." Your eyebrow raises. "Probably?" She shrugs. "Orrr they could be in a few others- I can't remember which." You sigh at the response. "You're crazy." You say heading for the stairs. "For you? Fuck yeah baby!"

It had become a habit that she'd stick them in her Jean pants. She'd take it to work sometimes forgetting where she was, and the fact she still had them in there until Finneas embarrassed the shit out of her. Or more so herself.

"We could maybe do something like this-" He began to speak about the stuff they were working on, when he noticed something on the floor. He knew Clauds underwear and that was something she definitely didn't own. "What on earth." He bends slightly, picking it up. Billies eyes widen, so incredibly wide her eyes might've popped out. Her cheeks go so red, snatching them out of his hand. Fuck, you dumbass idiot. She swallows. There was an awkward silence wondering how he was going to react. When this dude, let's out the wheeziest laugh known to man.

Billies eyes rest, almost glearing at him. "That is not funny, I can't believe that just fucking happened." He tries to control his laughter. "You truly are a dumbass." She swats his arm but he just continues his giggles. "Back to work come on." She spits, having enough of the laughing. "I was like- hmm Claudia doesn't own anything this-" "FINNEAS." She groans. He just laughs some more, she was never living that down. But Billie being Billie she eventually joins in on the laughing, shaking her head at the silly situation.

Yet again you were on the search for them, looking through most of her pants. You gave up in the end, calling her.

"You have them as we speak don't you."

"Well damn, you caught me."

Even during she needed them. Just the fact such a tight slutty thing was on your body for the whole day drove her wild, she didn't care in the slightest how filthy any action may be. Sniffing them, so on and so on. One of her filthy fantasies was you having them in your mouth, as you rode her. Just dangling there between your teeth. You were a tad bit confused at why she requested that, but the way she'd moan under you. The way she'd say your name. The feeling of her fingertips on the skin of your thighs as you rode her. Mixed in with your tits bouncing in her face. It was foul, but she enjoyed every single bit of it.

She was so thankful you went into that shop that day. Blessing not only you with a pretty pair of new underwear. But her aswel, getting the pleasure of witnessing it first hand.

You're welcome

[thisismeracing]

Can you please do Mick dating Raikkönen!reader hsc, please?

sure <3 hope u like it, nonny!

Requests are now CLOSED.

MICK DATING A RAIKKÖNEN!READER | MS47

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Raikkönen!reader just like her father is not in for silly jokes or small talk. She’s direct. If she doesn’t like you she’ll tell it to your face. The opposite is true as well - that’s how she told Mick she liked him after they hung out for a few months;

“I like you.” Short, simple, and direct. So direct that Mick wasn't sure if she meant she liked LIKED him or if she was being friendly, but since the latter was unlikely, he gathered up his courage and asked her on a date;

Though Michael and Mikki raced together, and Mick pretty much grew up inside the racing scene, the same was not reality for Yn. She did like racing, but when she was a kid Mikki and her mother chose to prioritize her privacy and her studies, that's how she wasn't friends with Mick. But once they met, it was a perfect match. Mick was shy at first, so that made him silent, and Yn just wasn't interested in talking. The silence was comfortable, though, and she saw herself walking near the bench he was sitting on and sharing a piece of her granola bar with him. Her dad had seen the friendship unfold, and he nicknamed them 'birds' because they would feed each other silently and then leave only to come up the next weekend with a sandwich, a granola bar, a candy, share in silence, and then leave again;

When Mick finally asked Yn on a date she told her dad and though he used to make fun he ended up feeling jealous - he even suggested that he could go too as if it was a friend meeting, not a date. Yn laughed at the situation, something she didn't do all the time, which made it even more special to those around her;

She sent Mikki a picture after the date. Their faces squished together on the screen of the phone. He could see Mick's arms around her shoulders, but her smile was so bright he couldn't help but feel happy for them;

He has dinner with the Schumachers the next month, minus Mick, of course. And they talk about the likelihood of their relationship becoming serious. They end up choosing to support them, Mikki being pretty sure that Yn wouldn't back down if he told her to, and the same with Mick;

Now, Mikki is a bit unsure of everything at first. He did see Mick grow up. He was friends with his family. But still, it was Yn! His little girl. That doubt went away a few months after they announced the seriousness of their relationship. Older Mick was a fun guy, nothing like the babbling kid nor the grumpy teenager he used to be. So the Schumacher and the older Raikkönen ended up realizing they had a lot in common;

After that, it's always "Where's Mick, Yn? Is Mick coming to the family vacation? Are the Schumis spending Christmas with us? Did you give him the book I handed you?" it's funny even;

Mick calls Yn by Raikki a short for her surname. Sometimes he calls her Rai or even Kiki, she hates the latter, though;

I feel like they would be super private. So much that it took almost a year or so for people to pierce the pieces together;

But being private didn't mean they weren't in love. That they were and the garage they attended quickly picked up from the way Mick would smile at her or how she would laugh around him;

Just black cat and golden retriever vibes, but Mick showed Yn her golden side too (the opposite too because Mick started to stand up for himself a tad more);

You know those couples where at least one has to be the person to tell the waiter they got the order wrong? Now imagine Yn is the one who does it while Mick is there like "I wouldn't mind eating raw meet :(" and Yn is like "I want another dish and I want dessert on the house," super serious while Mick is giving an apologetic look to the employee;

Yeah. hihi

[clairdelunelove]

yuuji itadori x reader, established relationship! 

genre: halloween fluff (matching costumes!) 

warnings: cursing, very suggestive

synopsis: you thought soft launching your relationship with yuuji during the halloween season would be perfect! matching costumes, cute selfies, and of course you get to post the pictures! but his mind can't help but wander a bit. after all, he's just a big bad wolf!  

a.n. this one got a tad bit spicier than I thought but my head is v full of yuuji! happy spooky season, my luvs! ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

“and you’re sure you won’t drop me?” 

“yup.” 

yuuji itadori hums, popping the ‘p’ in his response, and eagerly nods in an effort to reassure you. you don’t doubt his strength, truthfully. you’ve known him long enough to acknowledge that your boyfriend’s athleticism was, albeit, a bit frightening. he’s proved on more than one occasion that lifting you is no problem. like the time you refused to wear appropriate walking shoes during your date and he offered to give you a piggyback ride. or how, at your favorite artist’s concert, you couldn’t see them performing on stage so yuuji boosted you up on his shoulder to get a clearer view. never thought anything of it. so yes, carrying you is the equivalent of him picking up a light load of laundry when he has to take it to the washer. basically child’s play for him. it’s just– the circumstances are different now. 

because the outfit you’re wearing is a tad more revealing than you anticipated. it’s not entirely your fault though. influenced by the newest trend that pops up whenever you swipe through your phone, you developed this grand plan of posting on your media apps and ‘soft launching’ your relationship with yuuji. you just knew that your friends would excitedly flip out if they saw it. they’ve only heard stories of the pink haired male so being able to put a person to the name would definitely quell their curiosity. plus, he wholeheartedly agreed when you brought up the concept of ‘soft launching’ and even chuckled when you added that he’d still have that air of mystery surrounding him. he’s rather fond of partaking in your silly interests and trends. the videos you’ve seen have all been adorable and with the promise of halloween coming up, you implemented the plan of wearing matching costumes! and the costume you picked for yourself was definitely your size (you double checked just to be certain!) but with all the frills and patterned lace that fell precariously short on you, it was debatable. you don’t remember red riding hood wearing such a brazen dress as she strolled along the woods.

yuuji doesn’t seem to recognize how bold the outfit is, though.

just shoots you a warm smile and says, “you look s’cute,” before hurriedly averting his gaze and continuing to mess with his phone’s camera settings like you told him to.

always the ideal, courteous boyfriend. to match with you, he’s clad in denim and a dark, plaid shirt that’s rolled up on his forearms, the fabric bunching over his broad shoulders whenever he moves. and you get a peek of the fake fangs he’s wearing whenever he slyly grins. he’s playing as your wolf for the night and boy was he fatal for your heart.  

he pushes the fuzzy wolf ears over his blushy hair as he speaks up, “everything’s all set if you still wanna take that picture.” 

“hmm,” you bite your lip in consideration before staring back at yourself in the mirror and quietly mumbling, “I don’t know. what if I’m too heavy, yuu?” 

it’s a trivial excuse, frankly. yet, the hesitation in your voice beckons yuuji to hold out his hand toward you and ease your troubles. he doesn’t have to move much since the two of you are cramped in front of his bathroom’s large mirror. smushed together in the small room. you had dimmed the lights prior to add onto the ambience but you reason that it’s working against you because the dimness only emphasizes the glint in his eyes. and you notice, for the first time tonight, that his narrowed gaze on you is salacious. almost carnal in his desire for you. you— clad in a cape dyed in the brightest shade of crimson and white knee-high socks with small bows on them. it’s almost criminal for you to tempt him like this. the way you prance around unaware of the effect you bewitch him with. he casually blinks it away before you can ask, however. 

he leans in, partly to hear your concerns better and partly to offer you some comfort as he murmurs, “just c’mere, baby.” 

“my whole weight will be on one of your shoulders, yuu. not to mention– oh!” 

you manage to squeak out as you’re thrown over his shoulder. it’s natural. how easily he squashes any of your worries. and as you’re freely dangling, you have half a mind to wonder if his quick actions are intentional. instinctively, your hand flies back in an attempt to stop the bottom half of your dress from riding up and potentially flashing yuuji. a rampant heat sparks within you. the fact that you’re both standing in front of a mirror causes the tension to grow until it’s impossible to ignore and the yearning nips at you like an incessant thirst that needs to be quenched. little do you know that yuuji’s in a worse predicament, however.

“shit!– oh god.” 

his groan is barely audible with how low he mumbles it underneath his breath. the tone of his voice is gravelly, rough, and completely contrasting from his usual upbeat pitch. because, lo and behold, he does manage to get a glimpse beneath your dress. but he hadn’t intentionally looked. his narrowed gaze was just trained on the mirror in front of him, concentrating on positioning you over his shoulder so you were the most comfortable. he must’ve underestimated his strength, however, because when you shift to get cozy, the end of your dress inadvertently flips up. and a flash of pale cotton peeks out from underneath all the fabric. like a piece of the finest jewelry being unveiled in its confines. yuuji’s broad hand, which holds a secured grip behind your knees, lifts to help smooth down your skirt. he rests a protective hand over the curve of your dress, successfully helping you cover up. nonetheless, your face heats at the possibility that he might’ve gotten a glance. 

“careful!” he huffs out a chuckle as a wobbly smile spreads across his face, “don’t want everyone seeing more than they should.” 

“eek, sorry! I didn’t factor in how short this would be when you carry me.”

and his words are mentioned in yuuji’s typical carefree manner. he had a special quirk of alleviating any awkwardness or discomfort in a situation. yet, his voice sounds airy. like the breath is knocked out of his lungs and he’s struggling to get his thoughts together. his brain is mush. he closes his eyes, sucks in a heavy breath in an attempt to calm himself down. it’s the direct consequence of chastising himself to hold back and not commit to his selfish desires. you’re just trying to have fun! so why is he so worked up? was it the costume? is it how your nails are digging into his back whenever you try to readjust? how delicate you are while you’re balancing over his brawny shoulder? doesn’t help that he ponders on how simple it’d be to manipulate you into a position where he could get another glimpse of what you’re wearing underneath all the satin and lace. the prettiest sight he’s seen so far. so tantalizing. infatuation couldn't encompass the breadth of his feelings. he shakes his head, mentally pushes his brain fog away, and unsteadily raises his phone to the mirror to take the picture. 

surprisingly, he manages to recall the exact way you wished for him to pose. yuuji positions the phone in front of his face, which is covered in the mirror’s reflection, and makes sure the both of you are centered on the screen. his finger instinctively clicks the button on the screen to snap a couple pictures but he’s not focused on that. no, not at all. he’s spellbound; studying the manner of which the bathroom’s dim lights seem to catch on the vibrant color of your costume and illuminate your skin. you’re glistening. sparkling in contrast to his darker outfit. his eyes trail along the soft curves of your legs, following up until the plushness of your skin is revealed from over your socks and he shakily exhales. 

“hm? are you done taking them– aah!” 

jolting in surprise, a breathless gasp escapes your glossy lips when yuuji suddenly nips at your uncovered thigh. it’s abrupt. how the silence morphs into short-winded sounds from you and huffs from him. his hot breath encompasses the entirety of your outer thigh and the heat that was spreading within you becomes instantaneous due to it. goosebumps prickle your skin. your cheeks flare in embarrassment and you draw your hand up in an attempt to quell the desperate noises coming from your mouth. but he’s insatiable. yuuji always is when it comes to you. he coos sweet nothings to you while tensing up his shoulders to better settle you on the hard plane of muscle. 

and even as he sputters a halfhearted, “sorry! I didn’t mean for it to hurt– did it? I’m s’sorry ‘bout that, baby,” the fangs he’s donned causes a rather electrifying response as he leans in again. 

his sharp canines catch onto a sensitive part of your skin and you’re squirming in his hold. the initial pain sizzles into a carnal type of thrill. knows that he’s got you where he wants you when your legs unintentionally knock open as a result of the pleasure that shocks you. running his tongue along your skin, he soothes the mark by pressing a soft kiss on it. he distinctly hears a soft whine leave your lips. it pitches higher than usual; caught on your tongue due to the stickiness. you’re killing him. transforming him into a pile of pathetic mush that has one belief– you. his eyes roll back into his head as he blinks hard enough to emanate black. because he sees you– clear as day– or rather, what’s beneath you. exposed and suggestively spread due to his affection. spots the familiar cotton that has him gulping on nothing. and it’s when you hear his heady whine that you finally remind yourself to clamp your legs together. 

“wha–” you pause, struggling to gather your words before restarting, “what’s wrong? are you alright, yuu?” 

it’s rare that yuuji loses himself like this. typically the model of discipline and control, his self-restraint is unrivaled. but no, tonight he allows himself to get lost in this intoxication that can only be described as you. an arousal so strong that it consumes him in an everlasting heat. he swallows, an attempt to regain his composure, but it isn’t enough to clear his throat as he speaks up.

“c’mon baby,” he huskily rasps, “don’t make me spell it out for you.”

and he doesn’t need to because it is oh-so apparent. from the way his lips part, to the discreet buck of his hips against the bathroom counter; it’s obvious that he’s gone. indulging in the sweetest treat of the season. just the sight of you has him keening. his fingers, which kept a respectable distance, now path higher up your dress. blunt fingertips press against the inner portion of your thigh and your gasps become broken as he uses his strength to ease your legs wider. pries you open with a rawness that has you stupefied and unblinking. presses a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on your thigh. he’s so close to where you secretly wish for him to touch you. and gosh do you just want his thick fingers to prod a little further so you can chase that pleasure.

“y’know I want you.” 

there’s a hint of pleading in his voice– he’s begging you to understand the effect you have on him. how utterly wrecked he is for you. all dressed up like this for him. his grip gets firmer to the point where your plushness seeps from beneath his fingertips. and it’s the sight that he stares at through the mirror that has him panting like an overworked dog. mouth open as his mind reels in passion. he’s caught in a daze. because your legs are enticingly spread again to invite the warmth that his touches cast upon you. and this time it's intentional. droopy eyes honing in on the prettiest view he’s ever had the honor of seeing. can almost hear the moment his self-restraint snaps. he has half a mind to frantically take another picture of this position, one that he’ll personally have for safekeeping, and zooms in on your figure in the camera’s frame. a lazy smirk settles on his face–well, it comes off as almost smug because of his pearly canines– but it's not. he's fully devoted to you. absolutely under your command. literal hearts in his eyes as he snaps a couple pictures and murmurs about how your beauty leaves him in disbelief. can't imagine how he got so lucky. a drawn out groan leaves his lips once he realizes that his pretty red riding hood was all desperate for him. then, he drops his phone back in his pocket, deciding that he’ll deal with it later. his other hand, now free, traces along the curve of the bottom of your skirt and lifts the frilly fabric up. 

“wanted you ever since I saw you wearin’ this f’me.” 

your mind is so static that you can’t hear his confession. and before you can ask him to repeat himself, he’s carrying you down the hallway and into his bedroom. 

and like the big bad wolf he’s playing as tonight, he eats you up.

[beastszai]

mwah what up dawg can i requests dazai with a s/o whos very immature like laughs at the wrong time, whos laughs at inapporiate jokes and pranks kunikida. :33

YAHOOO hello hi hey anon!! TY for the request ehhehe MUA also dazai is so silly i wanna put him in a microwave *having a near death stroke*

✦ Dazai with an immature S/O ✦

♫ Walking On A Dream - Empire Of The Sun

✧ warnings : gn reader・ bad writing・slight hint at suggestive jokes・dazai being dazai (what else is new)・crack?・fluff??? (what the fuck is this help…)

✧ summary : some headcanons (my brain is fried) + you and zaza Dazai are a tad bit silly together at the agency instead of workin

w/c : 1K-ish

Youuuu two are pretty much the cause of Kunikida's daily headaches…

…though it's not just Kunikida losing his mind at this point, with both you and Dazai matching each other's energy, the whole agency is praying for peace every day.

Dazai feels prideful when he gets to get a little laugh out of you, it's easy for you to laugh at things and he finds it adorable

Your laughs and giggles feed his ego TRUST

His favorite moments are when you both seem to read each other's mind, later going back and forth between your ideas of how to annoy Kunikida

Both end up getting scolded and lectured by him, and in a worst-case scenario, he forces the two of you to sit as far apart from each other as possible while dumping piles of paper on your desks.

Your laughs also make him burst out laughing as well no matter how unfunny or serious the situation can be

With his way of wording things and your humor combined, it’s impossible for you to not snicker when he says the most normal things

“Dazai can you over real quick—” “I’m coming!” “…….that’s what she said LMFAOOOO”

A hundred percent made you laugh so much once that your stomach AND jaw were hurting

Dazai is silly, so it’s only fair he gets an ALSO silly s/o

…Today was unexpectedly boring. No special cases, no special encounters with the infamous port mafia… no special anything. Just paperwork. The only way to entertain yourself—and slack off from dealing with the paperwork and reporting on earlier cases—was to cause a little bit of chaos. The awkward silence throughout the agency’s office was killing you anyways…

You took a quick glance at Dazai who was sitting across the room and laying his chin on his desk, half asleep and bored out of his mind. He was quick to notice you looking at him and returned your gaze with his shit eating grin. The one that meant ‘nothing but trouble™’.

Your lips parted slightly to mouth the words ‘I’m bored’ to him, but Dazai was already spinning around in his office chair and wheeling his way closer to Kunikida’s desk.

“Heeeeey Kunikida~ So, you see, me and y/n are a teensy bit bored and I was wo-”

“Get the hell back to work, Dazai.”

The blond grumbled in frustration, not even raising his head from the monitor screen in front of him. His hands typed into the computer with speed, making a continuous clicking sound. Kunikida then paused, fixed his glasses and turned his head to you.

“…You too, y/n.”

He added, speaking in a much less annoyed tone than when he talked to Dazai. He immediately went back to working. The brunette sighed, getting back to his desk with a pout. Though, you knew that he was way too bored to have mercy on Kunikida today—or literally any other day.

Yanking one of the forms put aside on his desk in a swift motion, Dazai carefully turned it into a paper plane. He continued doing so until nearly half the pile of papers was gone and paper plane-ified. You raised your head from your own work and watched in amusement.

“Oh? You knew origami and didn’t tell me? Wow, ‘samu, can’t believe you’ve been keeping such great talent a secret from me!” You giggled, clutching your chest to add onto your dramatic act while spinning your office chairs’ way closer to Dazai. He grinned, busy adding the finishing touches to his 30th paper plane, “Oh I can do much more than some silly origami stuff, trust me on that.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips, loud enough for Dazai’s ears to catch it and smile with pride. He was so focused that he had even piqued Atsushi and Kyouka’s interest—along with Ranpo stealing glances from time to time.

You had long begun to help him with whatever he was scheming, making a few paper planes of your own and dropping the 45th? 54th? Whatever number paper plane onto his desk. While both of you were busy with your paper plane making, Kunikida’s laptop slammed shut; though neither you nor Dazai heard it or the sound of him stomping his way to the two of you. Dazai snickered while you counted the paper planes he’d made, going back and forth with the numbers as you kept losing count.

“Goddammit Dazai, stop distracting me! Unless you want to count all this yourself…” You grumbled and playfully smacked him in the head with the plane you were holding. He chuckled and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when Kunikida cleared his throat.

It made you both sink into your seats, slowly turning to face him—arms crossed and impatiently tapping his foot.

“Dazai. Y/n. May I ask what you’re doing? It’s not work as far as I’m concerned.”

Kunikida’s tone was surprisingly calm… the calm before the storm, you thought. Dazai, completely nonchalant about Kunikida’s presence, held one of the paper planes up and above his own head and grinned.

“Entertaining ourselves since boredom is ought to kill us~ Why do you ask?”

Out of curiosity, you decided to unfold one of the planes to take a look at it’s contents. Your vision blurred for a second once you realized what all that paperwork that you had turned into planes actually was… While Dazai was busy showing off the paper plane he had in hand to Kunikida, you desperately tugged on his sleeve, tapped his shoulder, shook his hand, anything to get him to stop talking.

“Dazai… have you even taken a look at what those papers were about?” Kunikida cut Dazai off, brows furrowed.

“Hmm? Oh, no not really! What’re they fo—”

“They’re all boss’ notes and reports…”

You whispered to him in a shaky voice, eyes still glued to Fukuzawa’s signature at the bottom of the crumpled piece of paper.

“Handwritten notes and reports.”

All three of you turned your head to Ranpo, who was fiddling around with a bag of chips, struggling to get it open.

“Those are all handwritten by him. He left them on Dazai’s desk not expecting anyone to touch them, knowing that he barely—almost never works… Just thought I’d let you know.”

A long pause. Ranpo then turned his chair around and aside from his faint chewing, the silence in the office had become deafening…

“…Wow, nice work, detective Dazai Osamu…” You mocked, eyebrows knitted together.

“Hey! Don’t throw me under the bus like thaaaaat, you helped too! So cruel of you, bella…”

Dazai gave you a dramatic ‘hmph!’ and awkwardly turned to Kunikida—who was practically shaking in fury—with a sheepish smile, throwing the paper plane at his head followed by a nervous laughter.

“Nowwww before you do or say anything, Kunikida-kun~ In my defens-”

“…DazaaAAAIIII—!!!”

p.s : its been awhile since ive written and actually posted it so this is a bit wonky I KNOW im not this ass at writing please spare my life i have a wife and kids…