#totally sloshed

[cherbearsz]

ive gone through 2 boxes of tissues but at least sonics always there for me

[nullshocked]

Keep getting an ad that's like "THIS IS HOW WE FIXED ALCOHOLISM" which is tremendously annoying. I usually keep things like that blocked, but I guess the mobile app doesn't give a shit and ignores that. Extremely cool. I don't want these.

[ratcandy]

oh there’s so little in the monch tag this is so sad……… it’s ok I can change this

[anything-viva]

time to fistfight a corpse

[tenshindon]

I think if Tien started getting more social and less hermit like he’d be a very loved person… he already kind of is his students like him well enough. He is very sweet and I feel like if he started learning how to act like a normal person he’d be like the best person ever.

i dont think tien should change himself to be a liked or loved person- as ya said, his students are enough to prove his personality and own personal charisma can draw people in

[windrunner]

if i ever talk positive or even neutrally about my birth mother you need to correct me

[soul-likeasecretinyourthroat]

So today I sent him a message on snap : “hey, I would still like to be friends with you no matter what the decision is. You’re a cool person and I would hate to lose a good friend over a couple of late night words.”

He replies : “No it’s just that I have never been in a relationship.”

My reply : “I haven’t either :/ whatever you decide on will be cool. Take your time”

And now its been a good almost 2 hours and at like the 1 hour mark when he opened it he kept typing stuff then deleting it. Idk but he’s thinking hard over there. I really hope I’m not making him uncomfortable or pushing him away. And advice on how to continue living until he responds to me????

[stopthefeeling]

The only thing that could've improved the reunion episode would've been Priya and Kerry hooking up and then it never being mentioned in the show ever again

[creamflix]

gojo satoru x female reader; established relationship, you're married. mentions of alchohol, getting drunk, gojo is drunk. fluff and crack. featuring suguru geto. inspired by this dream i had. — masterlist here ☆

you opened the door to find suguru holding up your completely sloshed husband, gojo satoru, by the shoulders. gojo's bright blue eyes were glassy, his face flushed, and a huge grin spread across his face when he saw you. he nearly toppled forward, but suguru steadied him just in time.

"look who’s back," suguru sighed, rolling his eyes playfully. "he kept talking about needing his 'wifi.' you were the only person i could think of."

gojo lit up even more at the sight of you, slurring, "my wifi! babe, my wifi’s here!"

"your wife, satoru," you laughed, stepping forward and grabbing his hands. "but yes, your wifi’s here."

he threw himself into your arms, clinging to you like you were the last thing tethering him to the earth. "mm, see? knew my wifi would always come back for me," he muttered into your hair. "you’re… so fast, like 5G, even."

"wow, i didn’t know you married a router," suguru snorted, gently helping him settle against you.

you laughed, rubbing soothing circles on gojo’s back. “and here i thought i was just his wife.”

gojo’s eyes suddenly went wide with shock, and he leaned back, looking you dead in the eyes with absolute sincerity. 

"you’re more than wifi. you’re... you're the whole internet." he grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together. "like, fiber optic. unlimited data."

"okay, okay, i get it," you chuckled, kissing his forehead. “unlimited data and all.”

gojo grinned, totally triumphant, and turned back to suguru with an exaggerated, wobbly point. "see, suguru? i told you she’s the real deal."

"yeah, i got it loud and clear, buddy," suguru said, looking at you with a smirk. “he's all yours.”

“thank you for escorting my data-deprived husband home,” you said, shaking your head with a smile.

“no problem. he spent the entire cab ride showing the driver pictures of you, actually,” suguru replied, amused.

gojo’s face brightened even more, as if he’d just been handed the greatest compliment in the world. “she’s… my favorite picture. no, wait.” he blinked, trying to gather his thoughts, swaying a little. “she’s my wallpaper. like... my home screen.”

you couldn’t help but laugh as suguru tried (and failed) to hold back his own amusement. “you’re a lucky home screen, then. good luck with him.”

after suguru left, you guided gojo to the couch, where he immediately flopped down, reaching for you like a kid needing a hug. you obliged, settling beside him, and he buried his face into your shoulder.

“satoru,” you murmured, gently running your fingers through his hair, “you’re so dramatic when you’re drunk, you know that?”

"it's not drama if it's real,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at you with the most sincere gaze you’d ever seen, despite the fact he could barely keep his eyes open. “like, i knew i wanted wifi in my life, but i had no idea it’d be this strong.”

“oh?” you smirked, leaning in closer. “and what does that mean?”

“it means you’re, like, the only signal i wanna connect to,” he muttered, sighing and nuzzling his head into your neck. 

“like… one bar, two bar, three bars — full signal, only with you.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his adorably drunk logic. “you’re too much, you know that?”

he just hummed, eyes closing as he settled against you. “but, babe? promise we’ll never lose connection?”

you held him a little tighter, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “never. as long as you don’t go dropping signals in my house.”

he grinned, letting out a soft, happy sigh. "perfect. ‘cause i’m… gonna marry you, wifi lady."

you held back a snort. “well, lucky for you, you already did."

he looked up, astonished. “i did?! really?!”

“yes, satoru, you already did.”

he flopped back, looking so utterly content that you could practically feel his happiness radiating off him. "best connection ever,” he whispered, clutching your hand in his like he never wanted to let go.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[sttoru]

imagine suguru putting us in a headlock while we're doggy and he praises us for taking him so well 🫠

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. dom!suguru x sub! female reader. smut, pwp. doggy style. choking ig. nicknames ‘darling, beautiful’ ; mdni

“you’re already doing so well, darling,” suguru softly brushes the hair out of your face. he wants to look down into your pretty eyes while he ruins you. his other arm is wrapped around your throat, keeping your head up.

you’re only able to let out small squeals as an answer. your body can barely keep up with the way suguru’s drilling your insides. the pressure on your throat and the sounds of lewd sloshing in your ears is driving you insane. you’re so wet—so turned on from him manhandling you.

“look at you,” suguru coos, long black locks tickling the back of your neck with each thrust. he can feel your drool run down his upper arm, making his girthy cock throb inside of you. he’s admiring every sinful expression and sound you make, “heh, i’m ruining my pretty girl and she looks adorable. so full of my cock.”

you’re glad that there’s a pillow put beneath your hips, keeping your ass up for your loving boyfriend. your body is not capable of keeping itself in one place. the pleasure is totally taking over. “s’guru! mkhh,” you nearly choke on your own spit, the lack of air in your lungs definitely adding to the thrill.

“aww,” suguru sees you struggle for a second and loosens the headlock a bit once he feels your hand weakly tapping his arm. after you’ve taken a few deep breaths, he tightens the grip of his thick bicep around your neck again.

suguru leaves encouraging kisses on your head before increasing the pace of his hips, molding you into the mattress like he’s never done, “keep taking it for me - beautiful - and i’ll give you a really nice ‘n sticky reward soon, mhm?”

[shotmrmiller]

(secret lovers but simon will not be kept a secret.)

you hadn't liked him from the get go. amongst the regulars that frequent the place you work at serving drinks, had been him; a burly, massive figure that commanded attention even though his clothes were nondescript and blended into the shadows created by the sickly, flickering lights overhead. his broad shoulders were squared, imposing, the fabric of his faded jeans stretched taut over his knees, tapering down to his scuffed sneakers.

him appearing a menace isn't what made him stand out. it doesn't even make him special, to be honest. one too many rowdy oafs call this hole in the wall a haven, seeking solace at the bottom of a thick glass.

it's the very air around him. it's heavy, muted, as if absorbing sound and movement. that one time you had the displeasure of personally handing him an beer, it'd felt suffocating, pressed down on you, made it hard to breathe. the stillness had been almost palpable, the usual hum of the bar nought but a distant buzz, even the clank of the chilled glass on the table had seemed muffled.

you'd felt the drink slosh over the rim in your haste to get away, retreat, escape. he hadn't even glanced your way and you'd been overwhelmed.

fucking hell.

and that's not the worst of it. the way he looks at people is unsettling. his beady eyes glint with a manic, rabid hunger, fixated on any bare legs that come into his field of view, as if he sees nothing but prey. that turns the discomfort that pricks at your skin into disgust.

revolting bull of a man is a pervert to boot.

(sometimes he comes in with others, 3 much more approachable, charismatic men that pop that personal bubble of oppressive silence he brings with him with their boisterous laughter and lively chatter. they're good folk except for when they want to act like your eyes are on your chest.)

so it's a true shame you spent weeks snarking about how foul he is when he's one of the best lays you've ever had in your life. (and continues to be.)

it's all discreet, of course. you can't be caught having a thing with the man you'd cursed up, down and sideways because he wouldn't stop staring at the tits you let him come on that same week.

you wouldn't even know how to explain how all of this started. that'd he'd been a surprised you and strong armed a belligerent drunk off the property for you a while back? that he'd happened to be around when your car got a flat, pulled out a jack from the bed of his truck and told you to sit your 'pretty arse' inside while he changed it? or that after the nth night of him being the very last patron, you realized he'd only leave after you were done with restocking and ready to close up shop?

you kept it all of it on the down low. pretended you couldn't feel his eyes on you, boring holes into the side of your head while at work then garble out his name through the fingers you're drooling over after work.

and it stayed that way for a while. he never stayed longer than you let him (not like that meant anything, he barely let you out the bed to pick up the door dash before he sat you on the countertop and lapped at your sore cunt until you came.)

he rarely used his phone so there was no worry about sudden texts while you had friends around.

it seemed a fine thing at the time. but then he started sitting at the bar top instead of his usual corner haunt, occasionally calling you over with a curl of his fingers (the ones he had you lick clean last night.) he stopped being a total lech, keeping his eyes glued onto you and you only, being so blatant about it that your co-workers offered to walk you to your car later.

embarrassing. you'd meant to give him a talk about laying off the intensity of his stare but it slipped your mind when he slipped into you from behind while fisting your hair.

when your boss is the one that gives you the stranger danger talk, even though you have said strangers love bites mottling the junction of your shoulder, you decide that enough is enough. so after your shift, you ask to speak with him.

only to have him snort in your face.

"don't think so."

before you get to say anything else, he's sitting you on the hood of his truck, legs hooked over his shoulders, eye level with your bare pussy because he'd stuffed your knickers into his pocket before work.

the first glide of his tongue between your folds is deliberately slow, tip catching the bundle of nerves at the top. your palm stings from digging your nails into it.

the second sends a shiver licking up your spine, his hands dimpling the soft of your thighs to keep you from squirming.

"look at me."

your body reacts instinctively at the low, grating tone of his voice and you're peering down at him before your mind can even catch up.

he nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "best get used to 'avin' me 'round." this was no conversation.

the tips of his fingers grazing over your wet heat, gently prodding the entrance. when he sinks them in, scissoring, thrusting, you realize he's not going to let you come.

this isn't a reward. this is about to be your punishment.

slick glistens on his knuckles under the streetlight as he undoes the zipper of his jeans, the sound of the metal teeth deafening in your prickling ears.

simon puts his hand close to your mouth like he's done in the bedroom, and you spit on it, like you've done in the bedroom.

the searing (but oh so good) burn is both familiar and not when you take him to the root, a shuddering breath escaping your quivering lips at the sensation of him filling you until the seams feel like they're becoming undone.

he lowers his head to nose your sweat-slick temple, large hands flat by your sides. his breaths warm your throat as he speaks.

"i won't be your dirty little secret, pet."

a hand creeps up to the nape of your neck, claiming a fistful of hair. simon pulls a sibilant hiss from you when he tugs hard enough to ache.

ouch.

"can't shove me in a closet and pocket the key." he rolls his hips once, twice before widening his stance.

oh.

oh no.

"now be good and let me take what's mine."

there'd been no arguing with him before he fucked you in earnest, and certainly not after when he takes you home, spend dripping onto his seat on the way there, where he makes you ride him on the driveway, only letting you go inside once he felt he got his message across.

(message understood.)

the next morning you wake to sore thighs, a throbbing pussy, a dry mouth and a text from your boss.

i've got cameras outside the place, by the way. go home next time.

at least you didn't get fired 🥴

[maxlarens]

⭐️ oscar + one has an obvious crush, the other is totally oblivious orrrrr secret relationship + someone finding out

hehe okay i did obvious crush but i do love secret relationship

“You’re not subtle,” Lando bumps against your shoulder as he sidles into your space.

You feel something warm spread across your cheeks, you try to hide it by scowling as you take the drink that Lando offers. You tear your eyes away from Oscar, pretending you weren’t watching him talk to Max with an intensity that rivals your focus on track.

“Can you fuck off,” you gripe.

“Nah,” then, he’s shouting, “Hey! Oscar!”

You’re going to kill Lando Norris, you decide. You’ll run him off track during the next race and pray he goes careening into a wall, you’ll put rat poison in the next drink you hand him, you’ll— and oh my god Oscar’s coming over.

It’s not that you can’t be around him. You can. You’re friends. It’s just that lately, your crush is turning into this unignorable thing. You can’t stop watching the way his expressions morph, exposing what he’s feeling so clearly, as if he’s not even controlling it. His teeth on his bottom lip, the freckles on his neck, the stubble on his chin. And he’s wearing this black t-shirt that you hate so much because of how he looks in it.

It makes you angry. It makes you want to claw your hair out of your head. But you also kind of don’t want to ever leave his side.

“Hey,” Oscar greets, smiling with his teeth in a way that makes you a bit woozy, “What’s up?”

“See,” Lando nudges you, sending you careening to the side, your drink sloshing over your hand, “No idea.”

You whip your head around to glare at Lando, you jab him sharply in the arm with a knuckle, briefly forgetting Oscar in your rage, “You little arsehole.”

Lando makes a noise halfway between a giggle and an exclamation of pain, “Don’t punch me, you shit.”

“Huh,” Oscar furrows his eyebrows, laughing a little at your antics, “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” you snap, before realising you sound like a total freak, “Nothing. Lando’s just being a cock as usual.”

Oscar’s eyebrow goes further up and you’re biting the inside of your lip to stop from smiling, to stop from reeling forward and kissing him right then and there.

“Okay,” he says slowly, a bit amused, a bit baffled.

You know you’re staring at him, but you can’t seem to stop. He’s looking at you with a soft squinty smile and your head feels light, like it’s going to float right off your body and up into the rafters—

then Lando snorts. Loud, obnoxious and totally obvious.

You’re really going to kill him one day.

join in on my 1k celebration

[appocalipse]

heyy if ur taking requests could u maybe do like bestfriends steve + reader where steve, eddie, nancy and robin have to pick up reader from a party and she’s like REAL drunk and just idk super clingy w steve and doesn’t wanna not be touching him. maybe eddie, nancy and robin all make fun of him for it but they acc find it rly cute.

thank you for your request! ♥♥♥ | 2.2k words

"Stevie!"

You collide into him suddenly, nearly knocking him back a step or two with the force of your momentum; there's a smile on Steve's face when you look up at him through eyes that are more than a little hazy with inebriation. You're drunk. Probably way past drunk, if the way the world won't seem to hold still is anything to go by, but you don't care. There are other things vying for your attention—like how warm he feels against you, how safe he makes you feel, how pretty he looks from up close...

"Whoa," Steve says as you lean even further into him and loop your arms around his waist in a tight hug. "How much did you have to drink, exactly?"

He doesn't mean it in a mean way, which is why you grin up at him from where you've got your cheek pressed firmly to his chest. You can feel his heart beating under the palm of your hand now, a steady and calming rhythm that soothes something inside of you.

"Dunno," you reply, grinning stupidly when you catch sight of maybe three copies of Eddie Munson standing off to Steve's left; all of them have identical amused looks on their faces. "Might've had, like, a couple..."

Steve sighs deeply, though there's no exasperation or disappointment to be found in his expression when he tilts your face upwards to look you over properly. You just beam dopily at him, because he's so pretty right now you don't know what else to do.

"Dude," Eddie speaks up, drawing Steve's gaze away from you while your own attention goes back to pressing yourself even more snugly into him, "she is totally sloshed."

You frown, shaking your head in fervent disagreement.

"Am not!"

"Sure you aren't, sweetheart," Eddie agrees placidly, but you get the impression he doesn't really mean it.

Before you can point this out, however, the blurry shape of Robin Buckley steps forward. The room is dark with flashing strobe lights and smoky with incense and cigarette smoke, but you'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"Who let you drink this much?" Robin asks as she lifts a hand up to brush some hair back from your forehead.

It's oddly soothing and so you lean into the contact with a happy hum. Robin and the others laugh — but then again, it sounds kinder than mean, the kind of laugh that bubbles up when you find something unexpectedly endearing, and so you don't mind as much as you maybe should.

"Nobody," you mumble as you press your face into the side of Steve's neck and take a deep breath in; his scent is the same as always, earthy and warm with an underlying hint of that stupid spray he likes to use sometimes. "I'm here alone. 'Cause Steve here blew me off for you guys, but that's okay," you say, even though, to be fair, it sort of isn't true — he didn't blow you off.

"Hey," Steve starts, sounding half-indignant and half-apologetic all at once. He's got an arm around your shoulder now, supporting you and keeping you upright, which makes you want to tangle yourself up in him completely. "You didn't tell me you wanted me to come hang out with you tonight!"

You sigh mournfully against his skin, feeling wistful all of a sudden. It's true. You hadn't told him. That was partially due to the fact that you had been trying to prove to yourself that you weren't so desperately and helplessly infatuated with him that you needed his presence constantly, but that plan had obviously backfired on you spectacularly.

"No," you mutter unhappily as Steve moves the two of you towards a nearby couch. "But I missed you. Don't wanna miss you."

Nancy, Robin, and Eddie, who are watching the two of you with expressions of varying degrees of amusement, exchange looks. Steve pretends not to notice, probably because he knows he won't like what they have to say if he hears it, and instead guides you down onto the cushions next to him. "You're drunk."

"You're pretty," you reply without hesitation, even though you're very clearly changing the subject. "It's unfair, y'know?"

You hear Robin snort, followed by a quiet thud like someone's just been slapped on the arm, and you know it's her who laughed, and that it must have been Nancy who'd shut her up. You don't know where Eddie is; you're not even sure when he wandered off, to be honest. You're too focused on Steve and the way his face looks under the colorful flashing lights.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too widely at your comment. His eyes are bright with laughter when you meet his gaze and nod confidently. "How do I get 'unfair', exactly?"

"'S all in the face," you say matter-of-factly, your own fingers trailing down his cheek in an almost absentminded gesture. "Kinda makes it hard to think about anything else sometimes, if I'm being real here. Like, it's not really fair, 'cause then what are we supposed to talk about? Oh, oh—and then there's your hair!"

"My hair?"

Robin wheezes somewhere behind you, which would have made you giggle if you were still paying attention to the people in the room besides Steve, but you're not.

"Mmhmm," you hum, your eyes running over the soft brown locks on top of his head. "Love it. Wanna touch it all the time. Y'see, Steve? You see? This is why it's not fair at all. And, and—" you trail off here for dramatic effect, squinting at him theatrically before leaning closer with your hand cupped to the side of your mouth, as if you're about to share something private. "—the way you make my insides feel? So, so unfair. Totally your fault, buddy."

"Wha-" Steve croaks out, looking alarmed and caught off guard by your drunken confession. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh," you regain your serious tone, frowning at him in a somewhat bemused manner when he continues to gape at you. "Not 'sposed to tell you. S'not the rules."

Eddie barks out a laugh somewhere off to your left, but Steve ignores him. "Rules?"

"Yeah, 's against the rules, dummy," you say, like he should've already known that. "Gotta follow the rules! Duh. Steve."

"Yeah, Steve, duh," Robin pipes up, earning herself a glare from Steve as well as a smirk from Eddie. "Oops, sorry. Please, continue."

"Can I touch your hair? Like, please, 'cause I might die if I don't, 'kay? If that's okay. Gotta test the theory. Just a little bit, though." You can tell by his expression that he wants to laugh, and that he's also mildly worried that you've lost your mind. "Please?"

Robin, Eddie and Nancy have their hands clapped over their mouths to contain their laughter. You're too drunk to notice, but Steve narrows his eyes at them in warning. "Yes," he says. "Just—yeah, go ahead."

With a little noise of excitement, you reach out to card your fingers through his hair. He smells really good — like clean laundry and fresh pine trees — and the feel of his hair in your palm is exactly what you had imagined, though you're loathe to pull your hand away now that you've felt it.

Steve goes unnaturally still as you press your face into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, a move he should have expected but didn't, and you sigh happily when the scent of his cologne hits you full force. He's like a living, breathing, cuddly teddy bear, you think, a combination of warmth, softness, and comfort all rolled up in one gorgeous, handsome, unobtainable package.

"You're warm," you mumble, feeling like you could fall asleep right now. "So, so warm. 'S like you've got a space heater in your chest, 'n that's like, so awesome."

He blinks a few times, momentarily speechless as he tries to come to terms with the fact that you are, in fact, drunk enough to be saying whatever the hell comes to your mind. "Uh, thanks?"

"Smell nice too," you murmur, hugging him tighter to you. "Like, wow. Love your hair, like, love love."

His cheeks are burning hot now, his heart beating erratically in his chest when he notices Eddie staring at the two of you with a knowing gleam in his eye. "That's—thank you, but, hey, come on now," Steve says, his voice faltering a little. "Let's get you home, okay?"

"I don't wanna."

"Don't you wanna sleep in your bed?"

You pause, considering his words, and eventually concede that, yes, your bed does sound lovely right about now, so you give him a brief nod in response. "I guess, but can you come too?"

He chokes on air, but manages to play it off by clearing his throat. "What—to your bed? No!"

"Why not?"

Steve shifts a little under your intense, alcohol-addled scrutiny; he feels strangely guilty, as though he's letting you down by saying no. "Because you're drunk?" he says, feeling flustered and unreasonably nervous all of a sudden.

You scrunch up your face in a pout. "Oh, that's a dumb reason."

Steve chuckles and you sigh happily again, because you love his laugh and everything else about him, and he seems to realize this, given the way his expression softens. "Come on, you drunkard. Let's go home," he says gently, tugging on your arm in an attempt to get you to stand.

You resist at first, shaking your head stubbornly as you hold onto him. "Can't. My legs don't work anymore. They're all wobbly."

Steve closes his eyes for a moment, huffs out a soft laugh, and you can't help but grin up at him. He's so pretty that, like, how is that even allowed? How can you be around him and not spontaneously combust or something?

"Well, what if I carried you?"

"Like a princess?"

Steve looks at you with an expression you can't decipher — it's halfway between incredulous and endeared, and it makes your heart feel too big for your rib cage.

"How romantic," Nancy observes.

"So long as she doesn't throw up on him," Eddie adds, nodding sagely in agreement.

"Oh, I hope she does," Robin says, with a devious smile, "he'd deserve it for being such a coward."

"I'm...right here, guys, and I can still hear you." Steve finally says, throwing them a scathing look that only makes them laugh. "If you're not going to be helpful, you can wait in the car."

"As if," Eddie counters.

Steve opens his mouth to tell him where exactly he can stick his opinions, when you grab the front of his shirt and drag him closer.

"Steve," you say, the smile falling from your face as a sudden thought occurs to you. "Are you mad at me? Because I can go home by myself. That's okay."

"Hey, no," he replies softly, "I'm not mad at you, sweetheart. Not ever."

"'Sweetheart'? Really?" Eddie mutters to Nancy, who elbows him in the ribs when he doesn't lower his voice in time. "Ow, okay, okay—just saying. Don't want them to keep dancing around each other forever, is all."

"I'm not dancing," you tell him, completely unaware of Eddie's snickering, "I don't have any shoes on, Eddie. Wouldn't be able to dance without shoes on. Silly."

"My bad," Eddie says, his lips twitching with badly concealed laughter, "forgive me."

Steve scowls at him before turning his attention back to you, his face so close to yours that you can momentarily feel the tickle of his breath against your skin. "Okay, come on," he says, "up we go."

And then, in one swift movement, he slides his arm under your knees and scoops you up into his arms. You let out a squeak of surprise and automatically wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

"Oh, oh, oh," you say excitedly, "you really are gonna carry me."

"Told you so." Steve adjusts his grip on you and makes his way towards the exit. "Are you good? Am I hurting you?"

You shake your head slowly, grinning as you stare at him from a whole new angle. "No," you tell him, feeling much more awake than you were moments before. "This is...this is like, actually kinda cool."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you repeat, smiling shyly back at him. "Feel like a real life Cinderella now. Whoa, you're, like, super strong."

"Yeah, Stevie, you're 'super strong.'" Eddie teases, waggling his eyebrows when Steve sends him a quick glare. "Aw, don't look at me like that. It's cute. The two of you."

Nancy doesn't tease like Robin and Eddie do. She walks behind Steve, making sure to stay a couple steps behind to give the two of you some privacy. Even so, when you look over your shoulder to make sure nobody's listening, she gives you a wink and a small thumbs-up that makes you smile.

The parking lot is filled with teenagers all wandering aimlessly in groups, so it takes Steve a while to navigate his way through the crowd. By the time he finds the spot where he parked his BMW, you've grown drowsy enough to rest your head on his shoulder.

Eddie immediately pops open the door to the backseat, slapping it a few times as he looks over at Steve and grins. "Hurry it up, lover boy," he drawls out, "she looks half-asleep already."

"She's fine," Steve shoots back, frowning in annoyance when Eddie and Robin both pretend to yawn exaggeratedly, "shut up. I hate you guys."

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

Small acts of love from skz

Chan, who sneaks into your bathroom while you're taking a shower just to trace hearts onto the steam-covered mirror.

Minho, who hides love letters in random areas of the house while he's away, so when you open your vanity at 6 o'clock in the morning, you’ll remember just how beautiful you are.

Changbin, who gets sloshed at a boys’ night out and does nothing but gush about you until the guys want to pull their hair out.

Hyunjin, who creates a portrait of you in your rawest form, the strokes of the paint reflecting the very essence of your soul, every edge and curve perfectly represented on the canvas.

Han, who hides messages in every song he produces, from simple I love you's to metaphors you both came up with during your late-night conversations.

Felix, who will actually wither away if he doesn't fold an origami heart out of every gum wrapper he receives and give it to you.

Seungmin, who bought you a bouquet once for your one-year anniversary and now refuses to let them die, buying you a new bouquet as soon as the other ones show any signs of wilting.

Jeongin, who just happens to know all the books you want to read and coincidentally has a notated version of all of them (totally not because he stalked your Goodreads profile and spent half his paycheck at Books-A-Million, annotating reading them every night before he goes to bed).

Liked this? Read the drabble version here

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

Random NSFW headcanon please? (If you do nsfw...)

alrighty roo, buckaroo, lets discuss kinkage - thank you so much for the request

Random Kinks They Deffo Have

They: Iruka, Kakashi, and Itachi (with additions of Sasuke and Shikamaru) (f!Reader)

Warnings: whew! Swearing, explicit smut, power play, somno/free use, auralism, names of authority, praise kink, spit/blood/cum play, idk just please be 18

Notes: This one is for the freaks, obvi Boruto!Sasuke and Boruto!Shikamaru, I'm begging for everyone's thoughts and opinions - be prepared for Shikamaru's to be nasty

Masterlist💿

Iruka

Power Play

He just fucking loves when you take control

Anything you tell him to do, Iruka will do compulsively, and he's absolutely twitching when you tell him how good he is for doing so

All! About! Your! Pleasure!

Iruka's favourite encounters would be when he's not allowed to touch you, though, funnily enough

You're riding him, and all he can do is watch your sultry smile and feel your pussy hugging him tight - he wants to feel you, to run his hands all over your body - but he can't - or else you'll slow down to a halt and sometimes even pull him out, just to give him a beration of sorts

Now, that said, Iruka does not fuck with demeaning talk - you better love on this motherfucker, he's trying his goddamn best for you, and if you should negate that, it would allow a dark cloud to form over Iruka's mind

You don't want that, right? Exactly. So you keep it sweet, you give him stupid, little commands then fan the flames of his ego when he completes the command in spades

Lowk gets boyfriend-brain when he's with you, so kinda does need to be told what to do

Iruka is a sweetheart!!! He's always going what he can for you, all the time, even if you don't explicitly ask him to every time

Kakashi

Free Use/Somnophilia

When you said you would be okay with giving it a trial run, Kakashi was elated, and fucked you four seperate times that night, and began again before you woke up in the morning

He fucks you slow, almost trying not to wake you up, but the stretch is unmistakable

"Good morning, pretty lady. Have any good dreams?" He would ask, noticing your quickened breath, making you instantly relax into the situation

You love it - you stop sleeping in any amount of pant, just so Kakashi could have you as he pleased

When you got home, he would be pressing you against the door, when you try to start chopping vegetables for dinner, he would bend you over then pop you up on the counter when he just couldn't get enough

Kakashi's condition is that everything spontaneous happens within your shared, lovely, little home

He might sneak you away occasionally while the two of you are out, finding a small cache in the forest, but Kakashi would be asking for permission, assurance, consent at every step of the way - public is just different, but he's not entirely opposed

Kakashi just can't believe he's got you, and every time he looks at you, he needs to have you

Itachi

Auralism

He needs to hear you; the way your voice quakes, the way your nails rake across the skin of his back

Itachi's favourite sound though, is the harmony of your bodies meeting, skin smacking skin, squelches and a slick plunging sound, filling the room

Yeiff - let alone fucking outside - my god - Itachi wants your encounter to be so loud that the whole world knows what's going on

With his shit eyeslight, Itachi would prefer to close his eyes while fucking you, letting your beautifully wanton sounds paint a picture in his mind

In a perfect world, he would totally love to get tied up with a blindfold on - just to be at the mercy of your light touch and the intoxicating sound of your pleasure - Itachi would break the binding eventually, desperate to have his hands on you, needing to fuck you hard enough to hear the smacking and sloshing

Itachi is also the primo dirty talker, insisting you reply to him through your stinted pants, sharp gasps and breathy moans

His whole arousal around the subject of sound is cranked up to ten the second the two of you are in public - your little yips when he squeezes your ass, or the biting 'Itachi' that slips out of your mouth when he corners you to cop a feel

Oh, he fucks with names, you can call him whatever the fuck you want, so long as he's the one you're screaming about - but he likes it when you speak to him with more authoritarian honorifics (sir, daddy, lord)

Sasuke

Praise

Ooh, tell him he's hitting the spot and Sasuke would lose it, only trying to hit the exact same spot again

If you're ever out, singing his tune to another party, about anything, and Sasuke catches wind, he's taking you home immediately to prove he can provide more than you bargained for

Y'all, lets be real, and acknowledge that sweet Sasuke craves praise in any and all capacities, but most fervently in the four walls of your bedroom

Again and again, it doesn't matter how many times you tell him, he wants to hear it again

"Sasuke, your cock is so fucking big," you gasped as he slid in slowly.

"Louder. Tell the neighbours."

Loves, loves, loves to be able to hear the affect he's having on your body, every wave of pleasure, every jolt from your orgasm

Even if it's visibly clear that he's got you like putty in his palm, Sasuke will demand that you tell him how good he is, how deep he can reach, how much your pussy loved him

You're a blabbering mess, and it strokes Sasuke's ego to no end that he can bring you to this point, absolutely drunk with pleasure

Shikamaru

Spit/Blood/Cum Play

Anything Shikamaru can ingest that comes from your body (not excretions, sickos), he will

It's insane when you two hit the trifecta - Shikamaru cumming all over a patch of knicks on your stomach then spitting on the pile of liquid, he would mix it all together with his index finger, on top of you, before he would lean down and lick it all up, shoving the finger covered in the rose-tinted mixture into your mouth

Mm mm mm, and your cum, my good Christ, does he ever love your cum

Nothing brings Shikamaru so much joy as pulling his fingers out of you, being coated in a shiny slick

There's also something about the way your face screws up every time he brings a kunai into the bedroom - Shikamaru goes weak in the knees when he sees your crimson blood, glinting on the tip of the knife, losing it even further when you lick it off without hestitation

He's going to cum on your face, just to see you try to open those pretty eyelashes of yours, beads of white weighing them down

Shikamaru had no clue he was into fluids, until you randomly asked him, one day, to spit in your mouth - it's been a done deal since then, spitting just comes with the territory eventually

He always loved seeing your body get painted with his cum, but it's a whole different ball game to watch you play with it, to watch you lick it all up without wasting a drop like you used to do (honestly, Shikamaru can't even remember why he used to wipe his cum off of you)

[toxycodone]

SEX WITH DAISUKE DRUNK ON MOUTHWASH.

JUST HEAR ME OUT. Both of you thinking you’re gonna die. Might as well fucking go out with a bang, right? Literally. you don’t wanna die a virgin, right? (idk if that will make it in the final fic but—)

awkward touches. Daisuke’s too fucking sloshed to get it up at first so he just buries his face between your thighs and humps the floor pathetically until he’s rock hard. The two of you being loud as fuck because who gives a shit about discretion and going at it totally raw because it’s not like you’ll live long enough to see the results come into fruition…

Daisuke’s drunk ass is so hammered he gets a little too curious and eats you out while you’re full of his cum. yeah.