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#alcohol makes you stupid and inappropriate
e-wills-afterhours · 2 years
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Glögg
A/N: This takes place during the winter month, the year prior to HTTYD2. Hiccup and Astrid are 19.
Rating: Between Teen and Mature. Like...we're straddling the line here.
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If you asked a young Hairy Hooligan to list the better aspects of winter, food and drink might top list. The season was frigid, near-barren in its yields, but the toil of summer made for plentiful stores; and plentiful stores made for generous holiday feasts: Haustblot, Vetrnaetr, Disablot, and Snoggletog. While the dragons did migrate to their breeding grounds during the months of little sunlight--Ýlir and Mörsugur--Berk still found cause to be in good spirits.
Tables all but groaned under the weight of roasted meats, stewed vegetables, assorted pies, and pastries. The air hung thick with the alluring smells of the season. Beer and mead flowed freely, aiding the Hooligans to forget they missed their dragons for a while. The best wine was reserved for top of Berk's social order, not that Snotlout and Hiccup were above slipping coveted drinks to their friends when the older men of Berk were too inebriated to notice.
Astrid decided the premium wine was fine enough, for all its exclusivity--but she was partial to the glögg made from the dregs and spices. For hours, it simmered in large pots and barrels, making the mead hall warm, sweet, and intoxicating with its scent. Young children tried to sneak a taste when their parents were not looking, but adolescent dragon riders imbibed without scrutiny. Mug after mug went down easy, warming the fingers and toes.
Two mugs in and they all forgot how to speak without shouting.
Three mugs in and Fishlegs nodded off against a post, the twins were fighting, and Snotlout could very well be naked.
Four mugs in and Astrid had Hiccup up against the wall. They were not in the mead hall anymore; she did not know where they were, but her head was too full of glögg and recklessness to care. She liked the taste of cloves and cheap wine in her mug, but it was far better on her boyfriend's tongue.
They kissed with abandon, hot, open-mouthed, and unhurried. His hand was up her tunic, beneath her undergarments, setting her skin ablaze with his touch. Her hand, meanwhile, was down the front of his pants, drawing noises from him that no one else was privileged to hear.
Everything swirled to the delightful melody of the glögg. Theirs was an intimate dance, choregraphed by notes of honey and cardamom. Wherever they were, it was cool and dark, particularly in contrast to the warmth and glow of the mead hall. That did not stop their clothes from hitting the floor apace, with a desperation only augmented by the drink in their blood.
At some point, Astrid ended up with her back against the wall, legs tightly around Hiccup, while he supported her weight with a vice-like grip on her bare thighs. She was pinned between him and the cold wall; and there was nowhere else she wanted to be--not with the exquisite way they moved together. Nothing was better than the sweet sensations of him against her, and inside her. She could smell the mulled wine on them both, mingling now with the heady scent of sweat and sex.
"Mmn, love you," Hiccup murmured into the crook of her neck, holding her closer, pushing impossibly deeper.
Astrid bit her lip, head falling back against the wall. "I love glögg!"
Hiccup just laughed, good humored enough not to take offense. He paused only long enough to kiss her tenderly, making sure she savored just one more taste.
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onlyseokmins · 11 months
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size matters • l.c.
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Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬
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"I'm worried my dick's too big."
Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.
He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.
And no one wants that.
"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."
Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 
He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.
"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"
"You're drunk."
"So are you." 
Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.
"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."
You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."
"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."
"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."
Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 
"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 
You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 
He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."
"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."
"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."
"You know I'm not!"
"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."
Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"
"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."
Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.
Or maybe that's just the alcohol.
Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 
"Are you flaccid right now?"
"What's it to you?"
"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."
He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."
"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 
"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.
"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"
Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 
"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"
"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."
"Then you should try harder."
He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 
Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 
Like always.
Except it's not.
All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 
You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.
"Am I boring you, baby?"
"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"
He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"
"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."
"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."
"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."
"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"
Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."
"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"
The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.
You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"
"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 
That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.
"Ah, well, so do I!" 
Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.
Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.
Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 
While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 
"I wanna go home."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just feel like leaving."
He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."
"Ooh… are you jealous?"
"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."
"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."
His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.
Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 
Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.
"You want to go to my place?"
"Yeah."
He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"
"Sure. Maybe condoms too."
"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"
Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 
There's no one there, of course.
"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."
"You do? Good."
"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"
Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"
"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"
"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."
His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"
"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"
One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."
"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."
He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"
"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."
"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"
"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 
Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 
"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."
Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 
But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 
He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.
"You've been thinking about me?"
"Uh-huh."
"Your pussy has too?"
"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."
"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"
And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.
Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.
He needs to get home fast. Now.
The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.
"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."
The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 
"No. You have to wait."
"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."
"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"
You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 
He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.
"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."
His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 
"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.
"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."
"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."
Neither one of you care. 
In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 
Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 
"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."
Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 
Oh, you cannot wait.
He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!
Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.
Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 
"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 
Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.
"C'mon bestie, please."
"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."
"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"
Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 
"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"
His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 
"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.
And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.
The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 
Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.
"You can't make me cum."
"What? Why? Need to stretch — "
"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"
"God, yes."
You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."
Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.
It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.
He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.
Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.
There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 
It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.
And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 
The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 
Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.
You're on the brink of climaxing.
And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.
Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.
He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 
"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.
"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."
"Can't believe you didn't rip them."
"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.
"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"
"Huh?"
It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."
With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.
"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."
"You love it."
"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."
You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.
"Someone's full of surprises."
"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."
Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "
"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 
You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.
"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.
His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.
It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.
"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.
You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.
It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 
Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.
He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.
It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.
"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."
"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"
"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"
You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 
"Mhm… yeah."
"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"
"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"
"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"
"Mhmph! More… more!"
A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 
Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.
He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.
Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.
"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"
Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.
"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."
"All… all for you!"
Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"
Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.
That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 
His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.
"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."
You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."
"That's not how it works."
Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 
You're honestly a little offended. 
He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 
Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 
You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 
"Good thing I'm flexible." 
"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 
"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 
You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 
"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."
What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 
To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 
Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 
But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.
Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 
It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"
And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.
White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 
Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.
"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."
He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.
Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 
Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.
It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.
"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.
He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 
Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"
You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.
There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."
"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."
"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"
"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."
"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."
"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."
It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.
"So, you're mine now too?"
"If that's okay with you."
And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.
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onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©
3K notes · View notes
willowser · 6 months
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katsuki blames the alcohol for making him stupid.
really stupid.
not that he's had a lot, but his tolerance is low for a guy of his size, and he can feel the edges of his inhibitions dulling with every drink of whatever denki has shoved in his hand. it doesn't taste like absolute shit, which is rare enough to have him indulging, just a bit, for the agency halloween party.
another sip has his head feeling a little swimmy, and before he knows it, his eyes are trailing across the room until they find you. again.
whatever the hell you're supposed to be tonight—a witch, or something else in a pointy hat—is really fucking with him, and has since you walked in. the costume isn't revealing in a sense that it's inappropriate for a work event, but it's...hugging you in all the right places. in every single one of them.
without tights, it would be on the too-short side, but—and no, katsuki can't fucking explain this—something about them is making everything worse. and your calf-high boots ain't helping, either.
it's just—your fucking—hips.
katsuki couldn't tell you what song is playing, but you're swaying back and forth to the tune and one of his canines digs into the plastic of his cup, so deeply that it makes a terrible creaking sound and dents beneath the pressure—and that's when a sharp elbow is delivered to the center of his chest.
mina is at his side when he looks, and her wide, freaky eyes scan his face before narrowing in her little shit-eating way.
"you're a pig."
katsuki chokes, and the little freak takes that as an admission of some kind.
"oh my god," she gasps, mouth falling in all her disgust and awe. "you can't even deny it!" and then she laughs, high and chirpy, and there's no way you can't hear her. "oh, you're down bad."
"cram it," he snaps, sinking his scowl into his cup. "i dunno what the hell you're talkin' about."
"you know i really thought better of you," mina sniffs effectively, turning her face up and away. "not the type to be blantly checking out somebody's ass."
katsuki bristles, and his aggrivation growns until the plastic in his hands starts to melt. "i wasn't—"
"i'm kidding!" mina snorts before flicking him in the nose, narrowly dodging the hand he swipes out at her. "quit being a baby and go shoot your shot already."
"piss. off."
but the hero is unaffected by him, simply scrunching up her face in response before turning on her heel to disappear further into the party.
she's wrong, katsuki thinks, because he's not a pig like sero or fucking dunce face or even kirishima, from time to time, who gets red in the face over a low cut shirt and a pair of tits.
fucking ridiculous, katsuki thinks, because he's way better than that.
it's just—the alcohol. that's making his lids heavy and his thoughts dark and his face hot. has him peeking at you over the lip of his cup, has him picturing you in his head when he's forced to look away.
and, well, maybe, the short cut of your dress has a little something to do with it, too—but he's keeping that shit to himself.
taking it to the grave, even.
1K notes · View notes
fushic0re · 4 months
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❝𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃❜𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒❞
⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢, 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢, 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜, 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢, 𝗔𝗢𝗜 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗢, 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗨 𝗞𝗢𝗡𝗚
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𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟎 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. alcohol consumptions. drunken antics. smut; penetrative sex, sex in a public space. slightly cracky. 
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ in true hallmark movie fashion, the holiday party ends with your crush getting so drunk that he spills professions of love. 
꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡
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SATORU GOJO 
Whiney. Clingy. Horny. 
First of all, we know this man is a lightweight. Don’t even be surprised that he’s easily swayed by the influence of alcohol. 
At some point (for his own sanity of course) Nanami tried to curb him whenever he wanted another drink…but he gave up. 
So now you’re stuck with a very drunk Satoru Gojo 
One minute he’s being his usual irritating self, the next he’s practically slurring as he blurts out really, really stupid shit. 
You’re desperately trying to reel him in because your students are literally in the same room as you and do not need to see their teacher drunk or hear the inappropriate things he’s saying. 
But Satoru Gojo cannot be stopped. 
He also cannot for the life of him contain any of the feelings he has for you in his body. So despite the fact that he would probably benefit more from throwing up all the sake bombs he’s had, he throws up drunken confessions. 
Though it’s no secret that the both of you harbor feelings for each other, neither of you has explicitly acted on them…until now. 
“My GOD. You are so pretty. Like, I wanna take off my blindfold to appreciate you fully but your beauty just makes my eyes huuuurrrt!” “...Thank..you? It’s definitely your Six Eyes though–” “No, it’s all the pretty.” 
“Heyyyyy, dance with me!~” 
Yelling “I WANNA HAVE SEX WITH YOU PLEASE–” across the room. 
Nobara for sure gets it on video. Megumi and Maki are appalled. Yuuji and Panda standing there with no thoughts behind their eyes. Toge’s lowkey entertained but will continue to remain to look unbothered. Nanami is rubbing his eyes and sighing deeply. Shoko for SURE eggs him on. Masamichi is ready to throw them both out. 
You take it upon yourself to try and see if someone can get him home while you continue to celebrate with the kids, but Shoko is too drunk. That leaves…
“Nanami, can you–” “Absolutely not. Have a good night.” 
And that’s how you end up hauling that man back to your apartment…because he caused a scene when you tried to take him home to his. 
Literally just clings to you and cannot be detached from you for the life of him. 
You set up a bed for him on the couch, but the second you turn around–
“I wanna sleep with youuuu!” Satoru whines, hugging you tightly from behind as you wash your face for the night. “Why are you kicking me out?”
You sigh exasperatedly before shooting him a stern look. 
“Satoru. Couch. Go.” 
You go to lay in bed and after having your eyes closed for only five minutes, your door opens and he’s crawling into bed behind you whining.
“Wanna stay here with you. You have more pillows.” “I can give you extra pillows if you want som–” “Boobs. I want your boobs :D” 
At that point, you literally just give up. He’s spooning you from behind, clinging to you so tightly that you literally feel his dick hardening against you as his large hands knead your breasts. 
His mouth is pressed right to your ear, murmuring promises as he begins to finally fall asleep.
“I swear…when I’m more sober, I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you. Promise.” 
You both take work off the next day. Everyone knows why. 
SUGURU GETO 
Seductive. Suave. Charming. 
When Suguru gets enough alcohol in him, he turns into such a romantic. 
Everyone thinks you guys are together and have been together for a while solely based on his body language. 
Without any inhibitions left to deter him from fully expressing his fondness for you, he allows you to be his center of gravity–when you move, he moves. 
His body naturally leans towards yours. He adjusts his body so that it’s clear his attention is only on you even when you’re not speaking. No one else exists to him. 
Very put together. If it weren’t for him being more flirty than usual, you wouldn’t even think he was under the influence. 
Whisks you away shamelessly away from other people when he feels like you’ve been giving them more attention than them. 
You’re talking to a group of coworkers when suddenly Suguru comes up from behind you and places a hand on your waist. 
“Excuse me, ladies. You wouldn’t mind if I stole this beauty away for a dance, would you?” He purrs. 
But he’s not asking. By the time he’s done speaking, you’re already being swept away by him. He doesn’t even wait for a response, nor does he care to notice the way said coworkers gawk at you jealously. 
This man literally twirls you around the dancefloor with a big smile on his face. His eyes never leave yours. 
“What’d gotten into you?” You laugh softly as he dips you. 
He simply shakes his head and chuckles. 
“Nothing. I’m just really in love with you and there is quite literally nothing in the way to get in my head or stop me from saying it anymore.” 
It’s a simple, straightforward, and intimate confession that is oh so Suguru. 
KENTO NANAMI 
Our main is a heavy drinker who can handle his liquor expertly, so…you’re the tipsy one. 
You, Satoru, Shoko, Utahime, and Kento are all at a sushi bar celebrating a successful semester and the steady growth of your kids. 
Too swept up in the good vibes, you don’t stop yourself from having a drink of choice with Shoko each time she orders a sake bomb. 
Little by little, your laughs increase until they’re filling the room. 
Kento is the first to notice, glancing down at you with a barely noticeably softened expression as all of your worries are alleviated–even if it’s just momentarily. 
The two of you worked more closely than the others knew. Yuuji had taken a close liking to you, so naturally, you and Kento convened often to discuss his progress and needs. 
Of course, these little meetings extended into ones of a more personal nature like grabbing lunch, a bakery run, or even a simple walk. 
It was safe to say that Kento Nanami, the adult of all adults, had developed a soft spot for you. 
Which is why he can feel his face heat up and his heart begin to pound against his chest as your head falls against his shoulder, giggling as you stare up at him. 
Unable to help himself, he gives you a gentle smile, placing a hand on your cheek. 
“You’re really warm.” He comments. “Would you like to get some fresh air?” 
“Yea! I wanna see all the twinkly lights the stores have put out!” You chime, tugging on his sleeve. 
The blond affectionately groans before helping you into your coat and slipping his on, stepping out of the booth. 
“I’m taking her for a walk. We’ll be back.” “Ooh! Can we–” “No.” 
With that, he helps you up and out of the restaurant, your hand clasped in the crook of his arm. 
Your friends are suddenly sobered up at the table, shooting each other shocked expressions. 
“...You guys saw that right?” 
Meanwhile, you and Kento are walking down the street leisurely as you literally babble nonstop. 
“I wanna take Yuuji here for dinner one day, we should go together! It’ll be really nice for us both to spend time with him, since we’re basically like his parents right? You know what parents do? Kiss! Why haven’t we–” 
Kento halts your runny mouth with a finger pressed to your lips, the most honeyed expression on his stupidly handsome face as he gazes at you. 
“As adorable as you are at this moment, I really want to have this conversation with you when you’re mind is clear enough to remember it.” He whispers, pulling your coat around you tighter as a gust of wind blows by. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Okay?” 
TOJI FUSHIGURO 
Toji literally cannot get drunk, so guess who's spilling their guts? You.
You’re out with some girlfriends for a Friendsmas dinner when the sangria hits you all a little too hard. 
Your best friend is left with no choice but to take your phone and call the guy you’ve been seeing to come pick you up. 
While you loved Toji, admitting it yourself–but especially him–was a terrifying concept to you all because of a certain little sea urchin-like haired toddler…Megumi. 
God, you loved that kid. You loved him to absolute death. He practically felt like your own child. Which was even scarier because what if things didn’t work out between you and Toji? What if one day he decided that his late wife couldn’t be replaced? Would he resent you? 
All of that reservation flies out of the window when you’re carried into his apartment and are greeted with a sleepy Megumi in the doorway, having been watched by a neighbor. 
“Mama?” 
You literally sob. It’s quite embarrassing considering your inebriated state, but the emotions cannot be contained any longer. 
The toddler frowns, his father’s expression mirroring his own. He had never seen you so…fragile. 
“God, I love you guys.” You confess tearily. “I’m so sorry that this is how you have to hear it but–” 
Your interrupted by two forces against you; muscle arms around your shoulders from behind and a small body hugging your front tightly. 
“Silly, mama.” Megumi giggles. 
Toji’s deep laugh fills your ears alongside his deep, adoration-laced tone. 
“Yea…silly mama.” 
AOI TODO 
Friendsmas gets a little too lit when the great Aoi Todo is around. 
Yuuji playfully insists on trying every flavor of Soju and of course, his brother tags along.
But in true Aoi Todo fashion, he does things with a little too much gusto….he’s drunk as shit now. 
Eventually, the girls decide to break off and convene at your place for a sleepover, having had enough of the boisterousness for the night. 
You’re literally minding your business having a conversation with Mai, Maki, and Nobara while Momo and Miwa make everyone some late night noodles when suddenly a love song by Takada is being blasted from your balcony window. 
“This that…?” Miwa squeaks, clearly caught off guard. 
It definitely is. The flow of the cursed energy, Takada blasting, there’s no questioning who the hell is outside of your window. 
Nobara already has her phone out to document the moment, the Zenin sisters are snickering as they stare at you, Momo is actually floored. Miwa…beyond floored. 
“You have so much shit to tell us.” Nobara laughs. 
“Yea, what did that happen? You and Todo?” 
“NOW apparently!” You whisper frantically. “What do I do–” 
“TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IN APARTMENT B347, THIS IS FOR YOU!” 
You’re literally shoved outside to confront a drunk Aoi Todo singing along to his idol as Yuuji holds a Bluetooth speaker in the air next to him. 
“You guys…” 
“Y/N I WANNA MARRY YOU, REMEMBER THIS MOMENT WHEN IT’S TIME TO TELL OUR FUTURE KIDS HOW WE MET–” 
“Please come inside!” You hiss. 
“DO YOU SHARE THESE SAME SENTIMENTS OF LO–” 
“Yes, for the love of god, I love you too, but please come inside before I get evicted.” 
“SUCCESS, BROTHER!”
SHIU KONG 
 Horny. That’s it. 
You’re with him at some fancy restaurant dressed to the nines for a business dinner with colleagues of his. 
Every person at the table is shady at very best. Hell, yourself included. 
But there are no thoughts of right and wrong when a tipsy Shiu whose lips taste like the smoothest, finest whiskey assault your own as he thrusts into you vigorously from behind. 
“Good girl. I knew you’d get us that deal…you’re too damn pretty for anyone to say no to, sweetheart.” He purrs into your ear, words slightly slurred. 
Your hands grip the edge of the counter tightly, letting out a breathy laugh in between hushed moans. 
“How is it that you fuck better after a few drinks in you?” You tease, earning you a deep chuckle. 
“Because you’re my woman and I love you. And I wanna keep doing this with you, living this life with you. No matter how messed up it is.” He pants against your ear. 
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vaisoric · 19 days
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ꨄ︎ bsf!jj taking care of drunk reader
warnings: emetophobia, fingering, praising
the more i read this, the more insecure i get about my writing style. i’d really appreciate it if you guys could send me some tips & feedback!
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saying you’re drunk would be an understatement. you were wasted, completely gone and you could barely talk as jj carefully guided you up the stairs of your front porch.
luckily your parents are out of town for the weekend so nobody could hear the way you are bumping against a plant or the umbrella holder as soon as jj loosens his grip on you to close the front door.
“think i’m gonna puke,” you inform the blond and his head snaps up to wrap his strong arms back around you, “i gotcha.”
he carefully maneuvers you through the dark hallway into the bathroom and sits you down in front of the toilet. as soon as you lean forward and start to get the alcohol out of your system, his left hand reaches up to grab your hair and quickly pulls it into a makeshift ponytail. his right hand rests on your back, soothingly stroking up and down, “s’okay, y/n. just get it out.”
after moments of him comforting you, because your body refused to stop shaking, you finally calm down. he flushes the toilet and leans back against the wall, keeping his hand on your back, “feel better now?”
nodding you slowly get up, supporting yourself on the toilet, “i need a shower,” you mumble, stumbling towards the shower. “careful,” jj rushes to stand up, ready to catch you in case you trip and fall.
as soon as you reach your destination you start to pull off your shirt. the eyes of your blonde best friend widen and he quickly turns away, clearing his throat, “i’ll wait in the living room.”
but right when he closes the door, ready to get some rest on the couch after such an adventurous evening, he hears you call out his name.
it’s almost 1am so you can’t really blame the little exhausted sigh that escapes his lips. he’s been running after you all evening just to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. stopping you to drink more beer, fixing your clothes and protecting you from weirdos that kept looking at you for a little too long.
he turns around to open the bathroom door again, peeking inside just a bit, he answers, “yeah?”
“i’m stuck,” your voice rings from underneath your shirt that’s wrapped around your head. huffing out a little laugh and shaking his head at your helpless situation, he steps back inside the messy bathroom.
jj quickly helps you out of your shirt and turns you around to cup the cheeks of your tired face with his big hands. “my knight in shining armor,” you slur, barely managing to keep your eyes open.
he pushes a strand of hair out of your face, “hmm… think you can tame the shower yourself?” he asks, making you giggle before slowly shaking your head no, “can you help me?”
and in a matter of seconds he helped you out of your clothes and into the shower, keeping his eyes off your private parts like a real gentleman. he strips himself down to his boxers, stepping inside the shower too.
he starts rubbing the pink bottle of wild cherry blossom shampoo onto your back, careful not to touch anything inappropriate.
after what feels like an eternity of him rubbing your back, and it seriously started to feel like he’s trying to rub your skin off, you speak up, “you do know my front needs to be shampooed, too, right?” you ask, looking down to your exposed flesh.
“i know.”
“then why do you keep rubbing my back?”
“because your front is not for me to touch.” he states simply, shrugging his shoulders.
damn, maybank.
you’ve always had a thing for him, but you were too afraid it’d ruin your friendship if you’d tell him. so, instead, you just started silently melting at everything nice and respectful he threw at you.
but right now you’re drunk. wasted. so, maybe...
you spin around, his eyes glancing down towards your tits for just a millisecond before settling on your eyes again, “what–”
“can’t do it myself, j. need your help,” you plea, pushing your bottom lip out to a slight pout that you know he can’t resist.
you see him swallowing a lump in his throat before catching his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on it.
“please?” you gently grab his hands, guiding them up to your tits. He palms your warm flesh almost immediately, which sends a comforting warmth shooting through your body – straight to your core.
“god, you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” he croaks out and can’t resist the temptation to give your tits a little squeeze.
his words make you lower your head, catching a glimpse of the bulge beneath his boxers, but he quickly draws your gaze back to him with his fingers on your chin, “y/n.”
you apologize and keep your eyes locked on his as he starts to shampoo the front of your body, trying to not pay any attention to the fact that your nipples are standing fully erect under his touch.
when he rubs his hands back over your chest he accidentally grazes your nipple with your thumb, eliciting a quiet moan from you. now he’s the one to apologize, “sorry, didn’t mean to–”
“it’s okay.” you interrupt him, giving him a little innocent smile.
“no, it’s— it’s not. i shouldn’t be doing this, i— god, i should go, i—” he panics, looking around frantically. when he was about to step out of the shower you grab his wrist, “don’t go, please.”
his blue eyes dart around your face, he can’t take it anymore. all these years of friendship, all these years of torture. of desire to touch and take care of you in other ways. it was too much, he needed to finally——
kiss you.
his lips crush against yours, pushing you back against the cold and wet tiles. his tongue props into your mouth, tangling with yours.
you kiss him back, feeling almost like a weight is being lifted from your shoulders as your lips finally connect. you don’t hesitate to slide your hands up his tanned abs and into his wet blond hair.
your breaths grow heavier as you continue to kiss each other as if there’s no tomorrow. when you suddenly feel his fingertips slide between your legs you pull away, gasping for air.
“shhh, don’t worry. i’m gonna take care of you, alright? just relax, princess. just relax,” he soothes you, lowering his lips down to your neck where he starts to plant soft kisses along your sensitive skin.
never in a million years could you have imagined this day would come. your best friend, the guy you’ve been crushing on for so long now, jj motherfuckin' maybank being all over you, kissing and exploring your body.
but it did. it came. you are experiencing it right now. you’re feeling every bit of his skin against yours. every suck and kiss on your neck. and most importantly: his fingers between your thighs.
he’s sliding his fingertips along your slit, parting your labia to hear your soft hums, “mmm, jj… please, i need you.”
and he couldn’t wait anymore, either. he already waited too long and now he finally has the chance to show you exactly what it would mean to be fully his. mind, body and soul.
jj raises his head back up to look into your eyes and presses his forehead against yours, a smirk playing on his lips. torture takes it’s end and he pushes two fingers inside you, enjoying the way your mouth falls agape, releasing a satisfied moan.
“there you go,” he grins and starts thrusting his fingers rhythmically in and out of your tight little pussy. “that’s what you wanted, right? me fingering you like this?” he asks huskily, licking his lips.
you nod quickly, eyes shut tightly as he continues to penetrate your needy cunt, “yeahhh, that’s what i thought. goood fuckin' girl.”
you grind your clit against his palm, heavy breaths and soft ‘ah, ah, ah’s leaving your throat. you feel his own arousal press against your thigh but he doesn’t seem to care. he’s to focused on taking care of you.
a genuine smile spreads across his face when he looks down at the way his fingers disappear and reappear between your legs. he’s finally able to make his dreams reality and it drives him fucking crazy.
his cock throbs against your thigh, and as much as he wanted to fuck you against these white tiles with them cute little flowers on it, he can’t. at least not yet.
“so fucking sexy,” he groans, his free hand cupping your tit to twist and knead your nipple between his thumb and index finger – earning another moan from you.
his steady thrusts inside you and the way he stimulates your nipples one at a time, makes your stomach tighten and your walls clench around his digits. “j, ‘m gonna cum…” you warn him with ragged breaths.
“cum for me, y/n,” he encourages you and it’s everything you need to let go and coat his hand in your sticky cum.
he places a loving kiss on your temple before you press your head against his shoulder. “such a good girl for me, hm? cumming all over my hand…” he hums into your hair and pulls his fingers out of you slowly.
he gives your pussy a few gentle pets before withdrawing his hand completely. smiling up at you as you open your eyes to look at him, he asks, “feel good?”
jj raises his clean hand to brush the messy strands of hair from your forehead and you reciprocate the smile, “never felt better.”
cleaning his other hand from your cum under the stream of water, he cups your cheeks once again, “guess i really am your knight in shining armor, hm?”
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rougepancake · 9 months
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Just My Type
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FT. Jonathan Joestar, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Josuke Higashikata, & Giorno Giovanna
WARNINGS: Sexually explicit content under cut. Minors and ageless blogs dni. Fem!Reader. Stalking, panty stealing, inappropriate use of stands, pervy jojos, masturbation, accurate to their individual timelines. Don Giorno and Cop Josuke. NOT PROOFREAD!!
SUMMARY: Perv headcanons for the JoJo’s up through part five. Might make one for the JoBros-
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JONATHAN JOESTAR
Out of all of them, he feels the most guilt
He’s a gentleman, after all
First it starts out with him eyeing your body, taking subtle peeks throughout the day
It then escalates to him brushing against you gently, and it kills him
There’s not much he can do outside of watching you and getting off to you before bed
SPEAKING OF THAT-
He humps his pillow
God he’s so desperate and needy too
Especially when you have no idea. For whatever reason, it makes his heart swell
But he feels so bad about it. What if you ever found out? What would you do? Do you feel the same way about him??
Once saw you riding your horse and was genuinely never the same after that
There was something about how determined you looked, with that wistful look in your eyes that just turned him on
He’s so down bad that he asked Dio for advice
“Get her drunk and convince her to stay. She’s stupid enough anyways.” “Grope her… duh…”
Dio does NOT give two shits about wether not his advice is legal
However, Jonathan follows through with the alcohol one
It’s his only chance to get close to you outside of studying alongside you
And to his surprise, you come over and share some wine with him
Thankfully, you wind up getting tipsy first, which gives him the chance to make his move
“Ah, y/n. It’s not safe for you to travel back to your estate in such a condition. Allow me to provide you with somewhere to spend the night.”
He lets you stay in his bed, and even convinces you to wear his clothes to bed
Snuck into the room while you were asleep and just watched you
Oh how he wanted to touch you, to feel you, but he couldn’t. It felt like he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for you and it bothered him so
Also practically ruined his clothes once he got them back. (Listen man sometimes it’s hard to get cum stains out-)
Dio never lets him hear the end of it and proceeds to give him shitty advice
JOSEPH JOESTAR
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- this man is a WHORE‼️
He has no shame whatsoever and refuses to keep his feelings for you a secret
In fact, you can barely tell if he’s kidding or not when he hits on you
He steals your clothing
Shirts? Gone. Bras? Never to be seen again. Panties? Oh he’ll steal them, ruin them, and then slip them back into your dresser when he’s over
He loves the idea of getting away with it, and it turns him on to know that you’re just as clueless as ever
Slips pictures of himself into your house, leaving them on the counter to make you think of him
Honestly thinks he’s so smooth (Caesar thinks he’s fucking weird)
Has no problem with smacking your ass out of the blue
Also really likes to pick you up and bury his face in your chest
Has collected various photos of you and gets off to them almost every night
Like it’s just a pic of you smiling and he’s hard as hell
While Jonathan whimpers and begs, Joseph moans and mutters
On the loudness scale he’s about 13/10
He does not give a flying FUCK about who hears him
Talks dirty while he fucks his hand, closing his eyes to picture your beautiful face between his legs, smiling up at him
Yeah he likes to take sneak peeks of you in the bath, so what?!
Does all of this with the mentality of “she’ll be mine eventually, so I’m entitled to a head start-“
JOTARO KUJO
Feels a little guilty about it at first, but never feels that way ever again once he gets ahold of a Polaroid of you in a bikini
Carries that shit around with him EVERYWHERE
He has also collected various photos of you, and has a mini photo album that’s dedicated to pictures of you smiling
Sorry but I think he’s into dacryphilia
Sure he loves to see you happy and enjoying yourself, but he just thinks you look so pretty when you cry
He fucking loves it when you come to him in tears, taking it as his chance to wrap his arm around you and bring you in closer to him
He constantly tells you that you’re annoying, but would smash you in a heartbeat
Enemies to lovers bs but he’s in love with you from the start
He prefers to steal your bras over anything else (he seriously has a thing for tits-) and DOES NOT give them back until they stop smelling like you
He also (occasionally) steals your shirts and replaces them with his own. The idea of you walking around in one of his shirts when it’s too big for you really gets him going
Loves to take you out for drinks and then escort you back home
Even better if you’re a lightweight
It gives him a reason to carry you back to your place and tuck you in bed
Once found your ‘special drawer’ while snooping around and fucking stole your vibrator
Granted, he bought you a much better one and snuck it into your drawer, but you were pissed when you noticed it’s absence
He has, and will continue to, use Star Platinum/The World to stop time and get his hands on you
Even if it’s just for a few seconds, he’ll be thinking about it all day
Oh god and Star Platinum loves you too
Grabs and holds you. 10/10 cuddler, even if Jotaro is incredibly embarrassed
You’ve always just seen it as ‘Jotaro’s lonely side’ and nothing more, so you don’t tell off Star
Star has been known to sneak away from Jotaro just to hang out with you
If you and Joot ever end up sharing a hotel room together for any reason, Star will hump you in your sleep
Now, Jotaro lets out low grunts and moans, but is typically quiet when getting off. STAR PLATINUM???? Fucking whimpers and whines like there’s no tomorrow
This man is hanging on by a thread
JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA
Man
On the guilt scale, he’s second place for sure
Feels HORRIBLE
But is also like his dad with the “yolo” mentality
Steals your shirts and shorts, sleeps in them (even if they’re too small), and refuses to give them back
Like your clothes just keep vanishing and you’re like ???
Has used Crazy Diamond to sneak into your place and has no real intentions of stopping
Has a shit ton of photos of you sleeping hidden away in his room
Really just wants to hear you call him a good boy
When he’s needy, he is NEEDY. Humps his pillow, whimpers, whines, the whole ass package
His hand just isn’t enough for him anymore
Unlike his father, he’s not brave enough to get close to you or touch you. My guy can’t even hug you without turning a bright shade of red
Oh and if you come over to play games with him, he’s a total goner
Absolute mess of a man
Can’t do shit without being embarrassed, so he’s a lot less weird than the others
But by god what he would give to hear you call him a good boy
It’s like his one dream
Rohan once used Heaven’s Door on him to get more dirt on him and has (some) no regrets. Will never let Josuke hear the end of it.
“Ohoho you like y/n? Josuke you good for nothing pervert. Give the woman a break.”
Prays that one day you’ll be in trouble and he’ll be the officer sent out to save you
GIORNO GIOVANNA
He’s one second away from going full blown yandere
You can’t change my mind
He’s got everything he needs at his fingertips, and could easily take you away without having to lift a finger
Openly flirts with you, but treats you with such respect that you can’t tell if he’s just being nice or not
Also spoils you
Buys you anything he’s ever seen you take interest in
Even if you don’t really want it, it WILL show up at your door eventually
Makes sure to sign his gifts to you so you don’t forget who it is that’s spoiling you like this
Kisses your hand and cheeks in a way that he claims is platonic
Loves it when you trust him enough that you can come to him for anything. Gossip? Do tell. Something bothering you? Just let him know and he’ll have it all sorted out in no time
I shit you not he makes you sit on his lap while you tell him about your day
You think it’s because the two of you are such good friends, but he actually just loves the sight of you pressed against him
His voice gets higher pitched when he gets off, and he begs a version of you that doesn’t exist to let him cum, pleading with you over and over
Eventually, he’ll start to feel bad about it, but he’d much rather live in the moment
2K notes · View notes
pennylanewrites · 11 months
Text
[love in the dark] levi ackerman x f!reader
cw + what to expect: angsty levi thinking he’s not good enough for you, self deprecation, talks of a family and kids, nudity (not sexual), brief mentions of battle scars, swearing, jealousy, alcohol consumption, eventual comfort
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levi hated everything he loved about you. you were so loud and talkative and bubbly. always smiling, despite the chaos around you. always caring and laughing and mumbling made-up melodies.
he hated that other people loved those parts of you too. he hated the way erwin would light up when you entered the room, that he somehow found ways to spend more time than needed with you, that hange would tease him playfully about his crush on you, a simple cadet.
but what he hated the most was that he couldn’t speak. he couldn’t kick the living shit out of erwin and punch hange’s stupid face, scream how much he loves you.
because you were a cadet. levi was a captain. it was so inappropriate, him breaking every possible rule and code of honour to be with you.
today was a very bad day. many scouts had lost their lives in an expedition to capture two titans for research. the remaining ones needed an uplift, erwin thought. and now squad leaders, captains, scouts and the fucking commander were sitting in a circle drinking wine.
you couldn’t handle your alcohol. levi was the first person to introduce you to wine, and then whiskey. that was also the first time levi felt old. how young were you that you had never tasted alcohol before?
he smiled to himself at the memory, but the smile faltered when he looked up to see erwin helping you to a couch. you gracefully thanked your commander, slightly embarrassed at how dizzy you were. petra, your friend, looked between you and the commander, giving you a suggestive wiggle of the brows. that didn’t go unnoticed by your captain, whose hand slipped as he poured wine in petra’s glass, turning her white pants a pale hue of red.
something snapped inside of levi as he drank glass after glass of sweet red wine. erwin had so much to offer to you. money, a home, a family. you were listening intently as erwin explained the rules of a card game to you, peering over his shoulder as you sat on the couch and he on the floor.
don’t let your head fall on his shoulder. don’t let your-
a gasp came from levi’s left. of course it was fucking hange.
“i must be boring you.” erwin chuckled when he realised you were falling asleep. “i’ll take you to your dorm.” levi reached the couch with two big steps, protectively standing between you and erwin as you got up.
“i’ll take her.” he was throwing daggers at erwin with his gray eyes, and erwin was surprisingly returning the gaze.
“you don’t have to, captain. take your rest today.” erwin was not giving it up. he gave levi a pleading look, as if saying let me have this, friend.
you’re not my fucking friend, replied levi.
“she’s my soldier, erwin.” you pulled on levi’s jacket, after making sure no one saw. a silent please stop. “lead the way, cadet. you can walk, i assume.” he was cold. more than usual, barely letting you say your good nights to the room.
was he mad at you? you weren’t the one making advances, it was erwin. you didn’t know how to politely turn your commander down, nor did the alcohol running through your veins allow you to.
“your room is that way, is it not?” levi stopped sharply, making you hit his back.
“levi,” when had you ever slept in your room the last two years? “are you mad at me?”
he sighed and turned around, still alert for any guards, or even worse, erwin and hange showing up.
“you’re drunk.” was all he said before walking again, signaling for you to follow. he was silent the rest of the way, silent as he stepped out of his clothes, silent as he grabbed a towel.
“can we take a bath together?” you asked hopefully. deep down you had a feeling he would turn you down. levi was always sour after failed expeditions.
“i want to go to sleep tonight, you take too damn long in the bath.” he was right, but the way he said it made it sound like he was accusing you of being a serial killer.
“okay. you go then, i showered before.” you smiled softly and started taking your clothes off to lay on the clean linen sheets.
levi thought about tonight over and over as he sat in the hot water. he didn’t mean to snap at you, or be so mean. he was pushing you away and into erwin’s arms.
erwin could give you the world. levi could not.
and you deserved the damn world.
he couldn’t help but smile when he saw you taking up the entirety of the bed, stark naked, like you always did.
he loved everything about your body. every curve, every dip, every beauty mark. he loved the healed pink scars on your legs and back, he loved kissing them and caressing them every time you cried that they were ghastly.
he hated what he was about to do.
“don’t you dare.” your voice was quavering. you didn’t dare look away from the ceiling.
“dare what?” levi put his boxers on and tried pushing you to the wall so he could lie down. why are you crying?
“do what you’re about to do, levi.” you moved so he could sit next to you and you both rested your backs on the cold wall.
“if you know what i’m about to do, you also know why.”
“oh, eyebrows is flirting with my girlfriend. time to ruin a perfectly fine two-year relationship.” you were mocking him. he was almost mad at you, but you were trying so hard not to cry.
“that’s not it.” he muttered. god, he hated talking about these things. “i can’t…”
i can’t give you enough.
“can’t what, levi? can’t love me anymore?”
“i can’t be what you need.” he sighed and turned away. why the fuck were his eyes burning and watering now?
“what are you talking about?”
“do you want kids, y/n?”
you let out a surprised laugh.
“levi-”
“do you?”
“well, yeah. not for like, ten years, but sure.”
“there you have it.”
“what, are you impotent or something?” you tried making light of the situation, because truly, you had no idea how to approach this. so you resorted to humour, hoping levi would snap out of it too.
“no, i’m just not cut out for that family crap.” he was standing up and walking around the room now, and he was making you dizzy. “erwin is, though. erwin wants a family and three children, did you know?”
you did know. you still shook your head no.
“and he has money to raise them. hell, he has a house in the countryside, and servants.”
“well, good for him. i hope he finds a wife soon.”
“are you fucking stupid, y/n?” you hated when he talked like that. “you’re 22 years old, god damn it!”
“so?”
“other women your age are already married and have a second kid on the way. not wasting their days away fighting titans, risking their lives!”
“i didn’t join the scouts to find a husband, levi!” you were crying. god, he hated it so much. what was he even doing. levi regretted ever opening his mouth.
“don’t you understand, erwin is your way out! you’re wasting your time with me. your life.”
“levi…” now you finally understood. it wasn’t that he was jealous of erwin flirting with you. well, that too, but he was jealous of the life erwin was living. “levi, i love you.”
“y/n, i really don’t know what you’re doing with me.” he was sitting down on the edge of the bed, his back to you. you shifted on the bed, until your legs were around his and your cheek resting on his back.
“i know you don’t get it, but you’re giving me exactly what i need.”
“and what is that?”
your hand fell on top of his, and you intertwined your fingers before he could take it away.
“you give me life, levi. and that’s more than i could ask for. i know you’re scared that you’ll die, or i will, but that’s our purpose. i joined the scouts knowing the risks.”
“i just want you to live properly. peacefully.”
“so be my peace.” you whispered in his ear and got up, sitting down again on his lap. “and don’t ever think you’re not good enough for me.”
“i know i’m not, y/n.”
“i don’t care, then. i love you, i don’t want to lose this, ever. i don’t care that i’m too young, or at child-bearing age or whatever other stupid crap you’ll come up with.” he smiled softly at you, letting his forehead fall against yours.
“promise you won’t die, then?” you giggled and kissed the tip of his nose before replying.
“i promise.”
“i love you.”
“good. don’t ever do that shit again, levi.”
“don’t swear.” he muttered and guided you to lie down, still on top of him. you could feel your heartbeats turn to one as you lay in silence. “i’m sorry, y/n.”
“that’s okay. just know i wouldn’t trade you for anything. for anyone.”
“really?” his arms tightened around you. a form of saying, me neither. you’re my everything.
“yeah, i like my men to have thin eyebrows.”
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lokischocolatefountain · 11 months
Text
Sundress
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader
Rating: 18+ (Fluff, slight smut, no angst for once, slutshaming but not how you think)
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She laughed freely at something his cousin said, all her nervousness from their journey to Texas leaving her little by little when his family embraced her as one of their own within minutes of meeting her. Oh and the alcohol helped too. He took her hand and played with her fingers as he sipped on his beer, smiling as he felt himself relax in the presence of the people who knew him the best.
It was unbelievable really, being back in Laredo not as the former sheriff who ran out on his bride but as a federal agent with a beautiful woman on his arm wearing his ring. She was here in a pretty sundress, sitting on the sofa in his home, laughing with his cousins as they shared embarrassing stories about him. Pops loved her, just as he expected and he just knew that if Ma was alive, she would love her too.
It could’ve just been his beer-addled mind, but he was so happy with her right there, right then that he would quit his job and just keep her right there in Laredo. He never liked the damn place, always wanted to break free and run off to explore the big bad world. But he also saw the appeal of a small town as he stared into the old picture of his parents on their wedding day. He wanted love like that. And he had it. He wanted to take care of the ranch with her, work where he lived so that he could slip into the house whenever he wanted to kiss her senseless. He wanted to wake up in the morning without worrying about going elsewhere for work and just bury himself in her warmth, make sweet love to her, have the big family he’s always secretly wanted.
“Why can’t I have a baby brother?” He recalled asking his parents, wishing to have a playmate at home. They’d tried. For many many years, they’d tried. But he didn’t know that. “It’s because you’re a naughty boy and I don’t have time for more naughty ones.” Ma said, pinching his cheeks before getting back to work with the newborn foal.
All his cousins had siblings and though he was close enough to them to not long for more kids his age to play with, he was jealous of them and angry at his parents. So he told himself all those years ago that when he was old enough, he would give his son a lot of little siblings to play with. It was stupid and childish really, but the sentiment hadn’t worn off over the years. He would like a big family someday. When they were away from all the dangers his job brought them.
Family and friends flitted out one by one, making Javier grateful that he didn’t have to kick them out to take his fiancé to bed. He loved his family and all but he had been around her for hours without being able to touch her inappropriately and that was getting to him. Kicking his family out to fuck his girl wouldn’t have been nice. And it wouldn’t have done well for his ‘Javi who left his fiancé at the altar’ reputation.
“I really like them,” she giggled as she cuddled into him on the sofa. He pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled back to find her smiling wide. He smiled back, unable to resist the infectious effects of her smile.
“Good. And they like you too. Especially pops.”
“Wooo!” She pumped her fist in the air, making him laugh. “‘S nice to have my future father-in-law’s approval.”
“Yeah well, let’s not rub it in my face,” he grumbled, recalling how unimpressed her father was with him. But he couldn’t fault the man. If his daughter came home with a guy who got shot at everyday for a living, he would be more than just unimpressed.
“Aww, Pobrecito,” she cooed before pressing wet kisses to his cheek. “He’ll come around. He’s just annoyed that you would be such a slut and have sex with his daughter under his roof before marrying her.”
“And whose fault is that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. She’d teased him all day, fucking grabbed him beneath the dinner table while carrying on conversation about work with her family.
“Whose fault?” She asked, making her eyes all soft and sweet just like the night she sneaked into the guest bedroom of her family home and begged him to fuck her. How was a man supposed to resist those sweet eyes and their filthy requests that contradicted their innocent act?
“Yours.”
“Mhmm?”
“Mhmm.”
“Okay then,” she said, smiling sweetly. Nothing good came out of that innocent act. “I’ll be a good girl tonight. I’ll take my bag to the guest bedroom. Sleep there for our entire week here.”
He rolled his eyes at her and snatched her bottle of beer before emptying the contents in one gulp. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easy.
“Rude!”
“Better rude than cruel, you absolute demon of a woman.”
“Cruel!? How dare you! I’ve been on my best behavior all day. I made your family fall in love with me faster than you made my family tolerate you. Miguel loves me so much that he would marry me if you didn’t. Linda invited me on a shopping trip and José didn’t move from me for hours.”
“José is two,” he said, laughing. Babies loved everyone, right? They were just innocent little creatures who loved everything. Or that was just what he told himself when his base instincts told him to take her to his room and put a baby in her immediately.
It wasn’t his fault. It was the goddamn sundress making her look all sweet and homely and just like something he’d want to put a baby in. He was going insane. Just the sight of her fitting in so well with his family and cradling his cousin’s kid while wearing a ring that declared her his was enough for him to stop thinking practically about all the things they needed to get out of the way before having kids.
“So? He loves me. I’m just so dang lovable,” she said, poking his chest with her index finger. “Not my fault that I’m perfect and you’re a big grump my father doesn’t care for.”
“He doesn’t hate me for being a grump. He hates me because he heard his innocent little girl screaming my name at night.”
“Asshole!” She gasped and shoved him away from her, but he returned right back and kissed her on the lips. Before she could call him more names, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, laughing as he felt her grab his ass immediately. Becoming boring was one of the reasons he didn’t want to get married, but with a girl like her who wanted him so openly, there wouldn’t be a boring day in his life.
“You make me fuck you in your family home, I get to have you fuck me in my childhood bedroom,” he said, carrying her to his room.
“Around all the posters of half naked women?”
“You offended, baby?” He asked, slapping her ass. He wasn’t the half naked women plastered all over his walls kind of guy anymore. But it made him feel giddy to think she might be…jealous?
“Nope! Just regretting taking down my John Wayne and Sydney Poitier posters. I had a John Wayne poster where he’s on a horse, wearing a cowboy ha—” she gasped as he dropped her on his bed.
“He was just a fake cowboy, baby. I’m the real deal. Got a ranch and all. I’ll put on the clothes if you want me to. Get on a horse, wear the damn hat. You want that?” He asked, hovering over her as she unbuttoned his shirt.
“I don’t know, Javi…” she tutted, twirling his hair around her finger. “You might look like a clown in it since you gave up the cowboy life to be a slut in Colombia.”
“I gave up the cowboy life to chase Escobar,” he corrected, giving her a pointed look.
“Yeah, but you spend more time being a slut than chasing Escobar.”
He pinched her ass, making her shriek and slap her hand over her mouth. “Javi! Don’t make me scream. I don’t want your dad to think badly of me!”
“Oh that’s one thing I can’t do, baby. Making you scream and making you cream comes naturally to me,” he said, making her gasp in horror. She had no reason to react so dramatically seeing that he’d definitely given her worse lines in the past. But it was fucking cute.
“Slut,” she chided, pushing him away but then pulling him down to her immediately. She gave him a peck on the lips before blessing the rest of his face with her kisses. It had him smiling like a kid, laughing like he used to when he was a permanent resident of this room.
“How many girls you fuck on this bed before me, Peña?” She asked as he shrugged his shirt off and got to work on her sundress. She looked pretty as hell in it, the white cotton with lemons printed on it giving her the look of the chaste woman she was not. But she looked the part in front of his family, hair down and neatly combed, pink on her cheeks and lips, and a pretty dress that made her look the part of a fiancée any group of Tias would approve of.
“You’re the first. The only one,” he said, pushing the elastic off her shoulders and kissing the swell of her breasts. He breathed in her distinct scent mixed with her sweat and took her breast into his mouth. She tasted salty from sweating, but he was not one to be disgusted by that. He came home to her sweaty and disgusting every damn night and she took him anyway. He buried his face between her breasts and took in her scent, groaning as his cock twitched in response.
Images of her with her knees bent by her head, still wearing the damn sundress as he drilled into her cunt filled his brain.
“Riiight. Totally believe that,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“You don’t trust me? You’re the only girl— woman, on this bed.”
“I don’t believe you. I know for a fact that you were a slut in high school.”
“Oh I was,” he agreed, hand diving beneath her skirt. “But I never brought girls back here. I sneaked into their bedrooms and sneaked out when we were done.”
“Of course you did,” she laughed, fucking herself on his fingers. It was sweet, having her in his family home, learning more about him and being delighted in what she found.
“It’d been a fantasy for a while actually, to bring a girl home, sleep with her on my bed. I just hated having to pull my pants up and run out before my girlfriend’s parents caught us and shot me.”
“You absolute menace!” She scolded and shook her head. He wondered if she would’ve given him her time of day had they gone to school together. He was quite the lanky kid with none of the muscles of his current body that she loved so much. He didn’t have much game either, not enough to impress her at least. She was a big city girl and all he knew at fifteen was Laredo and its oppressive walls. The Agent Javier Peña of now had slipped a diamond ring on her finger, but Javi from Laredo would’ve made a fool out of himself trying to get her to just talk to him.
Or not.
Maybe she would’ve liked him back. Maybe stupid boys with the worst pickup lines and too much confidence were her teenage self’s type.
“Would’ve sneaked into your room too,” he teased, bunching her skirt up at her waist before sucking her clit between his lips.
“Javi!” She squealed and not from pleasure. He apologized for hurting her with his desperation and placed a gentle kiss on the nub.
“My dad would’ve killed you for sure,” she said, running her hand over his arm. He flexed his muscles for her benefit and she took his offer, lavishing his arm with attention before moving a hand down his back as far as she could reach.
“Worth it for this pussy.”
He spent the night with his head between her legs, making her cry his name into her hand and then his pillow. In his head, he gave Javi from two decades ago a pat on the back. He’d gotten out of Laredo like he always wished, no matter the circumstance. He landed a pretty girl who wanted to fuck just as much as he did. He had love like his parents. He’d have a wedding he wouldn’t walk out on and someday maybe the grandchild his dad mentioned in passing.
Life was good.
.
.
.
Series Masterlist
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bug-is-snug · 3 months
Text
starved pt. 2
part one
plot: you're a zombie <3 CW: depictions of violence, depictions of obsession, gore, self-cannibalism (stay safe cutiepies!), blood, gore, eventual smut (That means Minors DO NOT INTERACT), self harm (I think? I'm not sure but I'm adding it to be safe!), military inaccuracies, dead dove do not eat kinds of stuff
A/N: let me know if I missed anything with the content warnings! Also please forgive me for the terrible accents, I am but a small humble person with the brain made of v8 juice- Also some of this was written on mobile so forgive me if there are any grammar errors ^^; banner by: @frostthecupcake (deactivated) and found by using "Find A Banner"
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You felt your face grow warm as your mind went back to the sight of your Captain's wrist. Well- mainly his veins...God, he had lovely veins... You imagined grabbing his arm and sinking your teeth in, tearing away at his skin and tendons with gnashing teeth...while you daydreamt you couldn't help but wonder; How sweet would his flesh taste? Shaking your head profusely, you let out a huff and continued to head off towards the barracks while ignoring the emptiness in your stomach. God, you could feel the blood running down your throat, warming you far better than any hard alcohol... "Stop it." You hissed quietly to yourself, as if you had any control over the thoughts that ran rampant in your mind, "Don't think at all, just shut up!"
Taking a moment, you lean up against the wall and desperately try to gather your thoughts. Your stomach growled almost angrily, making you let out a frustrated groan. "Hungry?" A familiar voice cooed playfully, their Scottish accent giving away their identity instantly. You look up to see Soap, your heart instantly beginning to race. Your eyes scanned over his body while your nose took in his scent, which allowed you to recognize that he had just gotten back from the shooting range, the smell of his musk and the gunpowder making your head swim. "Uh-" Christ, you sounded dumb, "Maybe? I dunno, I kinda skipped lunch today...though I do hear that your body can make you hungry when you're exhausted so- uh- maybe it's that?" ...WHAT? Where did that even come from?! What kind of stupid excuse is that?! Soap raised a brow, staring at you for a moment and giving away that he was also just as bewildered as you were over the shit you just said. "...I am going over here now." You quickly walked around him, attempting to make it to your room. "Hold on now, that dinnae make a lick o' sense. What's goin' on wi' ye?" A strong, calloused hand grasped at your forearm making your heart jump to your throat, "Ye alright, lovie?" You shuddered slightly, digging your nails into your palms as thoughts of tearing your precious teammate’s ribs apart and sinking your teeth into his heart while it still beats made you feel dizzy and your stomach ache. What would it taste like? Sweet? Savory? How much would you be able to devour before someone else stumbles upon the sight? You quickly interrupted your own thoughts as you blurted out, "I think I'm sick is all." Soap hummed and reached over, pressing his hand against your forehead. "Ye dinnae feel sick, ye feel cold to be honest, lovie..." He muttered. "Sarge-" You were cut off by his hands feeling up the scruff of your neck and under your jaw. "Sorry, mate. My mum used to do this to check if me or my siblings were sick..." His voice was low, as if he trying not to spook an injured animal. "Sarge, I'm fine, honest-!" You tried to reason with him. You knew he was telling you the truth, but you also knew how he was. To clarify, while the relationship between you and Soap was rather handsy it was usually a welcome action and when it wasn't, you would tell him and he would back off. The touches the two of you would share sometimes bordered on inappropriate, but it often didn't go much further than that. It was a very intimate relationship, one that could be missed if someone didn't have a trained eye. However, it wasn't quite romantic...just intimate and sometimes intense-
Looking into his eyes, you could tell that while he was indeed just checking up on you, there was a small sense of enjoyment at the fact you were letting him casually paw at your sensitive skin. You let out a soft hiss in pain when he pressed down on a particularly tender spot, "Johnny, too hard..." "Sorry, lovie..." Soap said quietly, letting go after a moment. "It's okay..." You assured him, "What's the prognosis, Doctor MacTavish?" He chuckled at your teasing and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, "Yer feelin' a bit stiff is all. Probably from yer god-awful posture." "Then I am going to do what I was planning to do and go take a nap. I should probably tell Gaz...I was gonna eat lunch with him today..." You said, disappointment heavy in your voice. "I can tell 'im fer you, lovie. Dinnae ye worry yer little head ‘bout it." Soap smiled, reaching over and giving you an affectionate pat on the shoulder. A sigh left your lips as you gave him a relieved smile, "You'd really do that for me? Thank you, Johnny..." He smiled back, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder. "Yer welcome..." You playfully nudged his arm with your elbow which made him chuckle and give you a wink before he walked around you, leaving you on your own as you finally made it to your room. You remembered the last time you retreated to your room when feeling unwell while you stared at your bed, closing your door behind you. It was a few days after the attack... Your body felt like it was on fire, especially where that damn doctor had bitten you. Your heart raced and your arm felt like your veins had poison coursing through them. You had refused to let anyone know, nor let anyone take care of you going as far as to barricade the door. Stupid? Yes, but what were you supposed to do? Let the teammates whom you trust your life with every single day know you're unwell? Ask them for help because they're your found family and you would drop everything to take care of them if they were in this state because you love and cherish them as people? Cringe- You groaned in pain, curling up in your little bed while digging your nails into the fabric, tearing them effortlessly much to your surprise. "What the fuck?" You huffed out, grimacing as you stare at the ruined sheets, "I just bought those..." Was that what you should have been worried about? Absolutely not, but you have to cope somehow. The pain was unbearable, but the worst of it was the fever and the fever dreams that came along with them. Well, you called them fever dreams; they actually appeared in your mind when you were awake. And most of them were really just...urges... Visions of ripping people apart filled your mind. It felt so real...you could feel your fingers digging into some faceless person's skin, tearing apart their flesh and ripping apart their ribs while they screamed and thrashed. The more skeptical part of your mind shoved it off as just an edgy little thought that you had as a courtesy of watching so many horror movies with Gaz, just a silly little spout of aggression. No, it was the thought of eating the person that got you to worry. It was the thought of burying your face into their warm body and sinking your teeth into their heart that scared you. The worst part of it was the fact that your stomach growled every time you imagined chewing and swallowing, like a forbidden fruit... Blood spilling down your chin like you had just bit into an apple after days of neglecting your hunger became a feeling you craved desperately. "Please just be a really fucked up version of the flu..." You whispered, "I swear to everything that is good and holy if it's not-" You were interrupted by a sudden sharp pain in your stomach, making you cry out. Burying your face into your pillow, you let out a quiet sob while you clung to it. Somehow, you felt embarrassed about how much pain you felt. You've taken bullets for fuck's sake! You have broken bones, dislocated joints-! And a little stomachache is making you cry?!
"What the fuck...?" You muttered, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Upon seeing the literal puddle of it in your hand you cringed, “Mm…that’s nasty…”
Sitting up, you use the headboard of your bed to keep you steady while your head pounds and begs you to lay back down. You huff, leaning your head against your arm for a moment. This fucking sucks. There is no denying it!
Your nose is pressed against your flesh, and you catch a whiff of yourself…Oh my…
Your stomach beckons you, and in that moment, you don’t even care. How can you? You’re starving!
So…
Without a second thought…
You sink your teeth into your wrist with a sickening squelch, tearing through veins and muscle. And, God, if it didn’t taste lovely…
Back To Current Day…
You sit down on your bed, running your fingers over the stitching you had done over the once torn sheets. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough!
With a sigh, you lean against the wall, staring at the ceiling as you reach over and gently touch your forearm, your fingertips sliding across the edge of the bandage. You didn’t really want to check if the wound was still there…but you didn’t want it to get infected either.
Your eyes glance down as you kicked off your shoes, scooting into your bed while your hand slowly peeled the bandaid off. You expected infection…a festering, pulsing and pus filled one…however, there was nothing. Your wrist was completely healed, like nothing happened-! How…?
You shake your head as hard as you can, as if it would shake the thoughts away. You ball the bandaid up and go to the trashcan, tossing it before going to your sink and rinsing your hands off. This isn’t so bad, right? It’s- er- not ideal, but it’s something! Maybe you should keep a journal of your changes- No. Too risky. If anyone found it…
Your eyes closed as you lean against the counter, inhaling through your nose while your leg bounce uncomfortably, “I can’t see a doctor…I really should but-! …What if I hurt someone…?”
You found yourself doing that a lot; whispering to yourself, fighting yourself…etc…
But that’s neither here nor there, it’s time to eat.
You started to head to your mini fridge, kneeling down before it and opening it up to take a package of raw meat out. You tear it open with your finger, feeling yourself begin to shake…
Shoveling raw meat into your mouth was not a good feeling. Did it scratch that lizard part of your brain? Yes. But social norms taught you to be disgusted with such bad manners-! However…as you sunk your teeth into the raw chicken breast, you ripped and tore away at it, feeling yourself grow more and more ravenous as it you continued. It tasted pretty okay for the most part, which is what surprised you the most.
Tasted like chicken, obviously, but the raw flavor added to it somehow? It was so hard to describe! But…then those thoughts came…
You were imaging the meat belonging to Soap, your beloved teammate. You felt so dirty and perverted…
‘This isn’t normal,’ You reminded yourself, ‘This is NOT. NORMAL!’
You didn’t even realize someone else had entered your room until they cleared their throat, making you snap your attention to whomever it was.
Oh shit.
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songmingisthighs · 1 year
Text
Pretty Cute
group : ateez
pairing : yunho × reader
genre : smut
word count : 3.4 k
warning : mdni, explicit smut, yunho and (y/n)'s kind of a perv, mutual pining, cnc ((y/n)'s a horny drunk), somnophilia, sex (not piv; fingering), slight hint of size kink?
a/n : happy late LATE yuyu day &lt;3 i wrote this impulsively and i was gonna post it on yunho's birthday but things got in the way and suddenly it felt weird writing smut in my state. but hey, i hope this makes up for my absence!
buy me coffee ?
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Both you and Yunho came home giggling through the door, courtesy of the alcohol you both drank earlier. Your steps were wobbly and staggered as you tried walking into your apartment with your best friend in tow, trying to catch up with you. Seeing this, Yunho giggled and pulled you by your shoulders so you could lean on him slightly as you both managed to take your shoes off sagely and proceed further into the apartment. "Okay, we gotta be careful because you're stumbling, mumbling, grumbling, tumbling, schcumbling..." Yunho's giggle made you giggle as well, thinking that he sounded both ridiculous and absolutely hilarious for some reason. But you just let him stick by you because you love his presence and even more so when you were drunk.
It had been a custom for Yunho to be very touchy with you both in public and in private as he was your teddy retriever and you were his... (y/n). Even earlier at the bar, you enjoyed the feeling of him with a hand behind you resting on the bar as his body towered over you, covering you from most of the people at the club. You sipped your vodka cranberry happily which gave you warmth from the inside while he provided you with warmth from the outside, your exposed legs didn't feel as exposed even after Wooyoung made a vaguely inappropriate comment about them. He might be one of your best friends but he was still a boneheaded idiot that you love so much.
People thought that it was weird how touchy and open you were to each other, some even thinking that you both had dated. Fact is, you wouldn't deny him if he asked you out, but you didn't know if he felt that way about you. Sure, he was nice to you, but so was he to everyone else. What makes you so special? Other than the occasional (very freaking often) compliments and remarks about how he would be so lucky if he was able to call you his wherever you show him your outfits or your accomplishments, you were doubtful that he would see you in a romantic way.
Plopping onto the couch, you both rested at each end with your legs propped on his lap and his hands resting on your shin. "God, we over did it tonight," the moan you let out turned into a soft hum when you felt his hands slowly caressing the skin under his touch as he chuckled, "Speak for yourself, I can still take a couple more beers in me," he teased. You narrowed your eyes at him in mock judgment, "Sure, Giggly Giggleson, you DEFINITELY didn't drink too much even when you started flirting with me." Yunho bit his bottom lip at the mention of him flirting with you earlier, giddy that you actually noticed that he was indeed flirting and wasn't just being friendly as he intended. "How can I not when you were sitting there looking so devastatingly beautiful and delicious," his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip and your eyes couldn't help but focus on its movement, sure that his bottom lip was not the only wet lip at that moment in time. But you shook your head slightly to prevent yourself from saying something stupid like blurting out how much you want his tongue shoved down your throat. To mask your inner turmoil, you rolled your eyes and snap your leg at him in mock annoyance to which he just chuckled.
The movement you made shifted the position of your mini skirt, not realizing that it had ridden up slightly. Thankfully, Yunho was gentlemanly enough to pull it back to its original position and length, of course after battling his inner urge to just pull it further up and expose your panties to him that he know for sure would be very adorable. "You're wearing a short skirt, (y/n), you gotta be careful," he pointed out, putting his hands back to where they were so his mind wouldn't focus on what was under the skirt. You rolled your eyes and moved to straddle his lap, surprising Yunho but his hands somehow found purchase on your hips in a secured grip. "There's no one here but you, Yunnie," when you draped your hands on his shoulders, Yunho was sure that you could feel his erection forming and was just screwing with him. But in case you didn't, he wanted to play it safe. "Which is even more reason why you need to be careful," Yunho leaned to peck you on the nose which caused warmth to bloom in your chest and a rosy tint to spread to your cheeks from the spot where Yunho planted his lips on. "And why is that?" You asked, eyes glimmering with slight hope, "Because you're my best friend and you're so irresistable in this skirt. If you shake your cute lil' butt at me one more time I might not be able to hold myself back from seeing what's under your slutty little skirt."
Hearing Yunho said that made you automatically wet and you had to feign rolling your eyes and pushing Yunho's face away as you got off him to excuse yourself to the bathroom. While you tried to calm yourself in the bathroom, Yunho defeatedly covered his eyes with his arms, totally embarrassed and slightly regretting that he said that in the first place. But he was right, though, he had sported a boner as a result from you sitting on top of him, knowing full well that your cunt was separated from his cock by a couple layer of clothing items. Fuck, he was so close to feeling you. With a groan, Yunho depleted into the couch, with his eyes closed, he thought of what he was going to say to you.
Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were screaming into your bunched up towel, absolutely wrecked by Yunho's words. Sure, you wore it because you remembered Yunho being so absolutely transfixed with the item when you both went shopping merely a couple days ago. Your plan was in motion and you don't know how to feel about that as you were sure your chances of success was no bigger than 32%. The occassional ass glancing was normal, but a full blown confession that Yunho wanted to devour your cunt made your arousal leak out of you like a broken faucet. So before you throw caution out the window, you thought it would be best to calm yourself down a bit.
Your inebriated state dulled your sense of time because when you finally got out of the bathroom, you saw Yunho on the couch, sleeping with his arms above his head. Pouting from disappointment, you walked over to him and stood by his side, thinking about what you're supposed to do now. Should you wake him up? Should you tuck him in? What if he thought what happened was just a dream and he forgot about it? But he looked so peaceful and calm and so so pretty, how could you even consider waking him up?
Yunho truly looked beautiful when he slept; his long lashes that you're so jealous of, his fair complexity, his plump lips. You had to remind yourself that Yunho was asleep and despite his confession earlier, you should try to hold yourself back from mauling him. No matter how hard it was for you. Though as your eyes trailed from his face to his neck, then his chest, then his shoulders and arms, and finally landed on his fingers, you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. It was long, pretty, and you know how some men have a severe case of man hands that made their fingers look stumpy and unappealing, but not Yunho. His fingers are just like his body, dainty and flexible yet they oddly enhances his masculinity. And for the life of you, you really do want to know how he would use them on you. Phantom feelings of Yunho's grip on your ass from earlier resurfaced and you shuddered at the memory, remembering how they were firm and possessive yet gentle and careful, it made you feel dangerous but provided a sense of safety as if telling you that you could trust him. And you do.
Without realizing, you had taken steps closer to his outstretched hand, standing so close to it that he was barely grazing you. For some reason, you could feel the warmth radiating from him even just from his digits. Your mind started wondering how exactly he would grab you and where. Your legs? Your knees? Your ankles? Or is he the type to spread you open by pinning your legs on the sides using his body? His wide shoulders would've definitely spread you open easily and it's not like you wouldn't open your legs for him. How can you not? It's Yunho for fuck's sake, your hot as fuck best friend who you sometimes (a lot of times) thought of whilst touching yourself.
As if he knew, Yunho stirred in his sleep which made you freeze in your spot, not wanting him to see what you were doing. He moved whilst still in his unconscious state and his hands moved slightly which unfortunately for you, pressed into your inner thigh with his soft palm making contact with the suddenly sensitive skin. Your body coiled from the touch and you couldn't help but let out a whimper. Everything felt so close yet so far all of a sudden and you wanted more. Though, you were fully aware that you shouldn't because Yunho was dead to the world and it would be wrong. But it felt so. so right and when else will you be getting a chance like this? Though, it didn't feel right as you weren't sure if he was okay with it or not. But he was just... Right there. Despite your better judgement, with your alcohol-soaked brain, your body seemed to move on its own before you could even make a coherent decision. The moment you realized what you were doing, you were already grinding against Yunho's arm with a lump forming in your throat. The guilt was making your stomach churn but you just couldn't stop what you were already doing. Even more so, you even moved down a bit so you could feel Yunho's long fingers directly on your covered slit. You had to cover your mouth with both your hands to suppress your moans because you didn't want him to wake up seeing you like that. Or you just didn't want any irrefutable reason to stop.
Unfortunately for you, your plans didn't go accordingly. Too busy with your ministration, you didn't realize Yunho slowly woke up with fluttering eyes and head slightly clearer than before. Ironically, the first thing that popped into his head was what you were doing as he had yet to realize that you were pleasuring yourself (or testing how you think he would pleasure you) on him. So when his consciousness finally came back wholly, the first thing he realized was something warm on his hand and something soft on his skin. "What the," Yunho craned his head slightly to see you with one hand covering your mouth and the other lifting your skirt as you ground yourself on his hand like a bitch in heat. A bitch with the neediest moans and the cutest pair of panties. God, was this a dream? Was this an imagination? Should he call on you and see if either you disappeared or he woke up in his bed with a raging boner? Or should he test the reality out himself?
Once again, your body froze when you felt something probing your cunt over the pathetic, flimsy excuse of a material. Your head snapped forward to see Yunho with his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes zeroed in on your crotch as if it was the most entertaining show ever. Or as if it was Fluffy, the three-headed dog as per his interest. "Yunho," the call made Yunho's eyes flit up to your eyes but his hand never stopped its movements on your, now that you took notice of it, sensitive pussy. You realized that you should have added something after calling him and you were sure you had the words at the tip of your tongue but when his damn middle finger slipped into your panties and started probing in your hole, you could actually feel your brain stalled and your tongue rolled into your throat.
It seemed like it would go on forever, the gaze you shared with Yunho, which made the fire that was starting in your chest grew considerably in a short span of time. From your perspective, you couldn't help but look at how lust-filled his eyes were, how he seemed hungry for you. He looked absolutely hot and maybe it was because you had never seen him look like that or look at you like that. It was a good thing though because even from just seeing it once, you know you couldn't get enough. From Yunho's side, he was taking his damn sweet time enjoying the way you look falling apart with only his fingers. Not that you knew about it, but he had a fair amount of experience imagining you under him, being used by and for him. He had even imagined you riding him like a cowboy making all sorts of noises from how good he felt inside you and also from the praises that he was giving you. Sure, he would like to praise you right then and there but by God, he was just so awestruck at how you looked and sounded. It was even better than his imagination, it was more than what he imagined. And he needed more.
Snapping you out of your pleasure-induced state, Yunho ripped your panties off easily and pulled you into his lap with a single gasp that escaped your lips. You barely registered the pieces of flimsy panties on the floor when Yunho pulled you so close that your noses were touching. "Don't worry, I'll buy cuter, frillier, and sexier panties for you," a chill ran up your spine when Yunho licked your bottom lip with a smug smirk on his face, "And you're going to do a little runway show for me then." With better positioning, Yunho was able to fully slip two of his thick and long fingers inside you with one swift move all thanks to your slick cunt. "Shi- fuck," you whimpered out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you felt your thighs tense up at how good Yunho's fingers were filling you and it was ridiculous because it was just his damn fingers. The sight of you on top of him was like a valuable renaissance art because it's dirty yet classy and he truly loved the physical proof of how he affected you so. Yunho used his free hand to flip your cute tiny skirt up to reveal the sight of your pussy absolutely devouring his digits. He loved it, he loved it so much, and he loved you so much. But that confession is for another time when his fingers are not up in you and he didn't want to make your arousal drip out of your cunt and drench his arm.
"I want to see you fuck yourself on my finger baby, make a show for me," Yunho felt his dick twitch in his pants when you let out a breathy whimper and your bottom lip quivered so adorably. "Show Yunnie how much he can make a mess of you," he demanded. Your heart dropped to your stomach when he used the nickname you used on him in a sexual way. Hearing that automatically made your hands move to his shoulders, anchoring your position as you began fucking yourself on his fingers. You were glad that he started with two because you didn't know how you were supposed to do it with three or more without your legs giving out. But you wanted to do your best to show him what you were capable of doing. Or maybe what he was capable of doing to you.
"Fuck I love your fingers Yunnie," you moaned out as your head dropped back, exposing your neck to Yunho which he utilized to plant his lips on your neck to begin marking you. Your grip on his shoulders tightened considerably when he delivered a particular suck and your mind immediately raced to imagine how that same suck would feel on your clit. Better yet, how he would look with his chin wet with your arousal between your legs. Just the thoughts made your pussy clench and your mouth drooled slightly, something Yunho didn't miss for even a second. With a chuckle sent through the skin of your neck, your body shuddered with the vibration that felt like electricity in your body. Along with your bouncing, as you fucked yourself on his fingers, your hips rolled forward when he pressed the heel of his palm on your clit, furthering your pleasure to the point that it was almost unbearable. "I- I wanna cum," you mumbled, biting your bottom lip to suppress a squeal when Yunho curled his fingers in you, accidentally grazing your g-spot. "Come on then baby, cum on my fingers and show me how much you're a good girl you are," he made a show of biting your upper chest through your sweater, dulling any pain but making your skin tingle. "You are, a good girl, right? A good, good girl in the tiniest skirt that you wear to tease any and all men that look in your way," he teased so smugly, loving how you seem to shrink under his words and he just loved it. He loves your tiny self (though metaphorically) in your tiny clothes that accentuate your everything and just drove him absolutely nuts. Your head shook quickly as you fucked yourself quicker and harder on his fingers with his palm still stimulating your clit, "No, no, no, Yunnie, just you. Only you. I wear this tiny, slutty skirt just for you," you spoke but your voice sounded small and breathy, exasperation beyond obvious to you and him. "Fuck, you'll be the death of me," Yunho grunted, thinking how much he was going to ravage you after this.
With a single push, Yunho managed to reposition you to be on your back with your head against the other armrest, legs spread open for him on his lap to provide easy access. "You better cum now, okay?" was all the warning you got before he fucked your hole even quicker than you were fucking yourself before. The slick you produced lubricated his movements effectively as well as letting out obnoxious, sloppy, sloshing sounds that told him just how wet you were. Yunho was definitely going to find a day (or night) soon enough just dedicated to eating you out.
You were reduced to a mess with your messy hair and trembling lips. Not to mention the pornographic moans you let out that may or may not cause you to receive complaints from the tenants on your floor or any other floors or even the next buildings. But you don't care, not at all, and especially not when Yunho made you cum so hard your hips were suspended mid-air, asscheeks clenched, and pussy leaking more of your juice onto Yunho's fingers. Though embarrassed at your situation, you found yourself incapable of moving whatsoever which was a contrast to Yunho who was looking at you with pure wonder and amazement, affection mixed with hunger. It was only when your hips rested back on the couch that Yunho took his fingers out of your cunt slowly, catching your attention. You couldn't deny that you almost drooled at the sight of Yunho sticking the fingers that were just in you into his mouth and sucking on them as if they were candy.
Distracted, you didn't realize that Yunho had begun unbuckling his pants and taking out his dick until you felt something heavy and hot slapping your cunt a couple times. It was only when you looked down that you saw his cock which was by far the biggest you have ever seen that you let out a soft squeak as your eyes widened. When you looked back up, Yunho was eyeing you hungrily like a predator.
"My turn."
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bratphilia · 5 months
Note
POOL BOY MIKE X WILLIAM’S BIMBO WIFE PLSSSS 😵‍💫😵‍💫
cw ; groping, cheating
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MIKE SCHMIDT who's had his eye on you from the second you set up camp by the pool, asshole husband putting the cabana on the room's tab. how could mike not notice you, after all? you were mr. raglan's — the asshole himself — wildly inappropriate young wife. yeah, mike didn't miss the way his hands had grabbed at your ass as the pair of you walked towards the cabana, raglan holding your stuff in his hand. he watched as he poured sunscreen all over your body, almost fucking sensually. it disturbed mike to his core, watching that creep smooth the cream in every crevice of your body, always whispering something in your ear to make you giggle. it made him sick; a stupid pang on jealousy in his chest. 
raglan eventually left to go back at the room. strutting away like he was the man — leaving you all alone for mike to swoop in. he casually advanced on you from afar. bringing you two margaritas — one "on the house," he explained. he almost winked, but that felt too creepy. you raised a glass at him and invited him to take a sip. you're just so sweet like that. of course he took you up on your offer to appease you, as he knew a sweet girl like you wouldn't leave him alone if he didn't. 
"you should join me," you say kindly, once mike makes his rounds back towards your cabana. he chuckles. oh, so you're playing into his game. 
mike makes a noncommittal noise. "i don't think my boss would appreciate that."
you put the glass of alcohol down, and it takes everything within him not to stare at the way your breasts move, your skin glitters in the sunlight. you move your large sunglasses so they sit on top of your head, beautifully pushing your hair behind your ears. "i don't really care what your boss thinks."
mike searches around the pool section of the resort. it's deserted. it's dinnertime; no one's here. he bends down to your level and leans in close to you, face near yours. "i don't think your husband would appreciate that."
you flash him a smile, closed-mouth. a gorgeous sparkle in your eye, too, he notes. your voice is real low when you challenge him. "i don't really care what he thinks either." 
"good," he says, mouth meeting yours quickly after the word gets out. 
your teeth clash, but you taste sweet. yes, it tastes like the margarita you've been downing, but it also tastes like something so uniquely you. it's delicious. he wriggles his tongue into your mouth eagerly, and you accept his advance with a moan. 
your hands reach forward to grasp his face. you smother his face in the sticky lip gloss you're adorned in and he fucking cherishes it. he can't wait to lick his lips after and taste you for hours. hungrily, he grabs forward to grope at your chest through the top of your bikini. in the center is a pretty white bow. it's so undeniably you that it makes the number even sexier. 
mike elicits a yelp from your mouth against his lops when his fingers come to pinch at your nipple through the fabric. he doesn't miss the way your hips are grinding downwards onto the cushion of the cabana to relieve yourself. fuck, just a little kissing and groping and you're this much if a mess. raglan probably has a field day every time he fucks you, mike thinks.
he suddenly pulls away. he makes a rash decision; he wants you to wait. he wants you to long for him. a long string of saliva connects between you two. "why'd you stop?" you whine.
"probably shouldn't do this in public." he shrugs, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. and it works. for some reason, you have less composure than he does. just how he likes it. 
"but no one else is here," you whine again, bottom lip sticking out in a pout.
he loves how much of a brat you're being about it. how much you probably need this. he knows a guy like raglan probably keeps you satisfied — there has to be some incentive to stand an age gap like that — but the way you're needy for him like you need him now is a real stroke to the ego. needy slut, he thinks. maybe not all his but he definitely started something within you only he can finish. 
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astarions-darling · 6 months
Text
An Indecent Proposal Raphael x FemTav/Reader
NSFW mdni tags: inappropriate touching, edging, panty sniffin', raphael is a dirty little pervert, clothed male, naked female summary: you barge into Sharess' Caress ready to give Raphael a piece of your mind. however when you get there, things do not go as planned. read on ao3 via source (this is pretty dialogue heavy because Raphael likes the sound of his own voice. and I don't blame him. this is also silly.)
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You don’t bother to knock when you reach the door with the little shiny plaque that says “Devil’s Den” in an ornate script. The door isn’t locked, so it swings open effortlessly when you barge in. The tirade ready to fall from your lips falters as the door closes with a soft click behind you and the hand you had raised in righteous anger pauses before limply falling to your side.
Raphael is lounging in one of the overly gilded armchairs that furnish the den, a glass of something that looks both incredibly alcoholic and expensive dangling from one hand as he regards you with that infuriatingly knowing smile. None of that is why the cat suddenly has your tongue; it's that he has shrugged off the outer layer of his clothing and sits there with his white shirt unbuttoned. The view of his bare chest isn't a particularly novel sight—after all, you share a camp with several people, and some—like a certain large elf—enjoy being one with nature on any occasion they can get. It's more of a shock to see Raphael in such a state of undress; it would be a lie to say you had never considered what lay beneath his neatly tailored clothes. But you would have bet all the gold in Faerûn that Korilla stitched him into them every morning to ensure they stayed perfectly in place. Right now he looked so...deliciously dishevelled.
“My, my," comes his amused voice, "does the squirming tadpole hinder your manners as well, little mouse?” The gentle timbre of his voice washes over you and it's enough to snap your attention to his face. “Or have you always been an uncouth little beast that flounces in without knocking?”
You frown at him, your irritation flaring up again. Your fingers flex—though not in a fit of pique but because your mind has been lost to the thought of running your fingers through the hairs on his tanned chest. That bloody distracting devil. Why did you come here again?
"Did you come all this way to gawk like a gutted fish or did you have something you wished to say?" He raises a brow, tipping his drink towards you. "If you wish to stare, I am, of course, happy to oblige—though that will cost you. This establishment operates on a quid pro quo basis, you know."
Quickly you shake your head, trying to wrangle your thoughts. The devil stands, unfolding himself gracefully from his chair and languidly striding over to a nearby credenza on which an array of bottles and glasses sit. He moves with care, never rushing, and with a deliberate air you can’t help but admire. He makes you feel clumsy.
You watch him carefully pour some rich amber liquid into his glass. It looks like steam rises and hisses above it for a moment before disappearing. The man turns to you, the corner of his lips quirked.
“I’d offer you a drink but I’m certain you’d decline.”
That presumptuous bastard. You’re too irritated to wonder if this is a trick on his part, which is foolish. But he too easily gets under your skin and so you open your mouth to retort.
“I would love a drink,” you say petulantly. You watch him take a sip, hating how you can’t stop yourself from watching his tongue flick out to catch the remnants of it on his lips. He fills up another glass before passing it to you. You watch the amber liquid swirl a moment before throwing it back quickly.
An incredibly stupid thing to do. Whatever it is, the liquor burns your throat and has you spluttering as you bend over coughing. You hear Raphael’s low chuckle of amusement before a glass of water is conjured out of thin air and hovers before you. You snatch it, guzzling it down just like the beast he claims you to be.
“What the bloody hell was that?” you ask, wiping at your mouth with the back of his hand. You catch his nose wrinkling at your lack of decorum. “I think my insides are melting!”
“Cease your melodramatic caterwauling,” he says, casually taking another sip of his own drink. Smug bastard. “It will pass.”
You cough again, feeling the liquor heat up your veins. You blink a few times before the alcohol simmers down, leaving just a pleasant warmth in your belly. Liquor and spirits had been few and far between while on your little adventure—well, anything half decent that is. The swill you’d managed to get was no better than vinegar. You’d stupidly agreed to let Astarion steal some expensive-looking vintage from the wine festival in the Lower City…which had ended up with you spending the night in a cell. Sometimes that elf was the clumsiest person you’d ever met. With that thought, you suddenly remember why you’ve come here.
“I would like for you to stop sending Korilla to spy on me,” you demand as the devil places his drink down so he can re-button the cuffs of his sleeves. 
Did he go deliberately tan on some beach, you wonder? That thought spirals and you’re suddenly picturing lying in the sun on some perfect beach while his skin glitters with salt and sea.
“You should be thanking me.” His lilting words are annoyingly pleasant and they drag you out of your daydream. “After all, if dear Korilla hadn’t been with you a few nights ago you’d probably still be a trapped little mouse in a cell.” He smirks, picking up his drink again and tilting the glass toward you. “Stealing wine, really?”
You decide to keep your mouth shut, something that you mentally congratulate yourself for. It was true that Korilla had been the one to free you from your dank cell. Which was a lucky thing; you didn’t want to hurt people while trying to break free, but it would have come to that if the warlock hadn’t intervened. Raphael watches you carefully, an easy smile on his handsome face, his confident casual air annoying you more than anything else.
“I will withdraw Korilla’s eye from your camp,” he says after a few minutes, his voice thoughtful, “if you give me something in return.”
Of course. You sigh. What did you expect?
“I’m not giving you my soul just for that, Raphael,” you scoff. “If I wouldn’t take one of your deals for the hammer then I certainly won’t trade it just to stop your little dog from following me around.”
“I wouldn’t dream of asking such a thing,” he says smoothly, ignoring your little jab about Korilla. “I desire a mere trifle. Inexpensive!” The devil laughs, a warm pleasing sound that has your lips twitching and skin flushing despite yourself. “I promise you won’t even miss it.”
You frown. What did you have that he would want? Soul coins, perhaps? But surely Raphael couldn’t know you had some in your possession, could he? But also they weren’t inexpensive…not in the least. What in Balduran’s name could he possibly want from you?
“What?” you ask, eyes narrowing.
He tuts. “You really do need to acquire some manners, little mouse. Too much scurrying around with scoundrels and vagabonds.” He sighs, taking a sip of his drink before grabbing a different bottle. You watch him uncork it with ease and pour the dark red liquid into a silver chalice. When he proffers it to you, your hands take it carefully. “Perhaps this may be more pleasing to your sensitive mortal palate.” You watch the candlelight flicker over the wine before you bring it up to smell. Inhaling, you let the notes of cherry and plum assault your senses, the sweet richness of it utterly inviting. When you take a sip, you let it sit on your tongue for a moment to savour it before you close your eyes and swallow. You hadn’t had anything that good in…well, you don’t think you’ve ever had such a decadent wine before.
When you meet Raphael’s gaze again, you shift on your feet. Your fingers grip tighter on the stem, remembering where you are and who you’re talking to.
“It’s nice,” you say, idly swirling the glass. “Well, what do you want then?”
“Your knickers.”
There is no hesitation in his words, he shoots them out quickly and effortlessly—like Astarion would shoot an arrow. You nearly spill the wine in your shock. You’re certain you’ve hallucinated his words or perhaps this is a weird dream. Maybe you are still tucked in your bed at the Elfsong Tavern, dreaming about devils and their insanity.
“You want my what?”
“Your knickers,” Raphael repeats, his easy stare watching you as a multitude of emotions flicker over your face.
So you had heard him correctly. The man doesn’t even act like he’s asked for anything unreasonable. Disbelief has you standing there with your mouth agape. Is he trying to humiliate you? He must be. Was this some sort of strange ploy to get you to agree to his insane deal of the hammer for the crown?
“Why?” The word falls out of your mouth gracelessly, but you aren’t here to cater to Raphael’s want for proper etiquette.
“Why anything?” His voice is low and tinged with amusement as he finishes his drink. He leaves the glass on the credenza to walk closer to you, his hands gesturing as he continues to talk. “Why does the fox chase the hare? Why do little thieves steal wine? For the thrill?” He pauses, head tilting to the side as he regards you. He grins at you. “For pleasure?”
You despise the way he inflects the last word. It sends a rolling shiver down your spine.
“If you’re trying to humiliate me, consider it done.”
He feigns hurt, or you think he does, as he sighs dramatically. You wish he would he would dress himself back in his tunic again, or at least do up his shirt buttons as your eyes can’t help but flick to his exposed throat and chest as his shirt shifts with his movements.
“I would never dare dream of humiliating you, my dear.” Raphael's words sound sincere, but you do not trust him. He’s a devil. It’s like a constant mantra you have to repeat yourself. You are aware that devils can’t lie, but they can certainly bend the truth—just enough—so that it won’t break. “How it claws at my heart to hear you even utter such a thing.”
“I didn’t know you had a heart,” you retort.
“You wound me again, sweetling.” Hand over supposed heart, Raphael smiles. “Indulge me. I do not ask for much.”
It was true, it really wasn’t much. A heavy sigh and then you hear yourself utter a resigned, “Fine.”  It was ludicrous but you couldn’t see any harm in it. And he hadn’t produced a contract to sign—just a gentleman’s agreement, as it were. You were not going to tell any of your companions that you had traded your panties for some freedom. Nine Hells, you hoped you could sneak back into the tavern without them noticing. Perhaps the alcohol has loosened your resolve and has you acting so stupidly but you can’t see anything wrong with the arrangement. With another sigh, you ditch the wine on a nearby table before you turn to leave, but Raphael calls after you.
“And where are you rushing off to?”
“To the tavern,” you say, turning back to face him, “to fetch you your perverse prize.”
“No.” He takes a few steps closer and you catch that hint of spice and musk that wafts from him. “The ones you are wearing, little mouse.”
You suppress a shudder. He’s never been so close to you before, he’s manoeuvred himself into your personal space. The heat and power that radiates from him is intoxicating, more so than any drink upon your tongue, and you’re suddenly reminded of what he is underneath his welcome facade. Yet that doesn’t stop your mouth from opening.
“There are plenty of boutiques around here if you’re that desperate for some new lingerie, Raphael. No need to take mine.” You stick your chin out, matching his stare as you can’t help but add, “As lovely as I think you’d look in pink lace.”
The man’s face doesn’t change, the easy smile remains but you can see the brightness of his eyes—as if you can sense their true infernal nature behind his human disguise. He seems pleased with your reluctance to submit to him easily. Something that you hate to admit makes you pleased in return.
“Pink’s not really my colour,” he muses, fingers tapping his chin thoughtfully, “though I am sure the flush of it against your skin suits.”
Those words do not help you’re suddenly racing heart but you try to ignore his silver tongue. Shifting on your feet, you try to get your mind back in order. Your eyes dart around the room, searching for somewhere to change though there doesn’t appear to be anywhere.
“How I do enjoy watching the little wheels turn in that pretty head of yours.”
You glare at him. “Where can I change then, devil?”
He laughs and then spreads his arms wide. “Right here.” At the look on your face he continues, “You mortals are so easily flustered.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Please, as if I have not seen bare flesh before.”
Later, when you are tucked in your rented bed, you will blame the alcohol. But for now, you simply begin to undo your clothing, starting with removing your boots. He takes a mere step back, those eyes watching you the entire time until you are standing there in nothing but your underclothes. Feeling self-conscious, you feel the flush begin in your chest and work its way up your neck but you refrain from trying to cover yourself up and stand there with your hands by your side as your body tenses. The look on his face hasn’t really changed, but again there is something behind the eyes. A reaching hunger. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you, can devil’s see a soul? Does it call out to him and do his hands itch to pluck it free?
Raphael walks behind you and instinctively you go to turn but his warm hands reach out to hold your shoulders, keeping you where you stand and your toes scrunch at the soft rug beneath to curb some of the tension now beginning to coil in your gut. The lingering touch as he holds you burns into your skin, not due to his infernal nature—though you do sense that he feels rather warm than a regular man—but due to the way your traitorous body reacts to his touch.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“I just want to remember you as you are now, before your flesh is torn asunder by writhing tentacles.” His hands slide down your sides, leaving a trail of gooseflesh and a horrible twinge of arousal. “Before your lovely skin is slippery with mucus and…” he leans in and you feel the tip of his nose behind your ear making you shiver, “you lose that delectable scent.”
You can feel the deep rolling timbre of his voice against your skin. You are too aware of him behind you, your muscles tense as you try to resist the entirely too tempting urge to step back into him. “I am not giving you the crown.” You manage to utter the words though they come out in a whisper. But you are still somewhat proud that you can utter them at all.
“You will.” His fingers touch your neck and you can’t suppress the shudder. “I see your little vampling has taken a bite.”
You twitch as the soft pad of his finger grazes against the puncture wounds on your neck. 
“It helps him fight better.”
His hum in response tickles your neck but you refrain from responding. What would you say? That you like letting the vampire feed on you occasionally? That the searing flash of pain mixing so deliciously with the heady feeling of Astarion drinking from you is unlike any sort of pleasure you’ve experienced before? No. The devil did not need any details.
“I’m sure it does.” Raphael's words float against the shell of your ear and you are momentarily aware that you have a literal devil hovering by your shoulder.
The pad of his finger once more traces the puncture wounds from Astarion’s bite. It feels like a bolt of magic whenever he touches you, though the shock of it is far too pleasant and it goes straight between your legs. Your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth but you manage to unstick it just as he pulls away.
Raphael moves around you until he is once more facing you. You feel flushed, far too aware of how your pulse is thudding in your neck, yet he looks perfectly calm and collected, breathing even and standing there as if you were merely discussing the weather. When he drops to his knees before you, you want to scream but you are too transfixed at the sight of him before you. You can barely think when his hands reach up towards your underwear. You stare dumbfounded, some part of you still blaming it on the alcohol, as you watch his long, elegant fingers trace the pattern of lace by your hip.
“They do look lovely on you, little mouse, a pity.”
You find your tongue again and manage to mutter, “I can undress myself.”
“I’m sure you can,” he purrs. You wish you could cast Silence on him. “But what sort of man would I be if I didn’t lend a helping hand?”
Quickly you look away, face burning in embarrassment as your mind easily imagines how helpful said hand could be. He really shouldn’t be allowed to speak in such a way. Did he cast some kind of spell on you? Did he put something in that drink? Or were you just simply this spellbound by him—perhaps not something to dwell on, you decide. You feel his warm breath against the top of your thigh as his fingers slide up under the band of your knickers at your lack of response. You realise you’re holding your breath as he slides the lace down your legs. You risk a glance down but quickly flick your eyes away—his face is far too close to your bare sex. If he moves his head even slightly you know you will feel his breath on your cunt.
Standing there, you wrestle with the idea of stepping back or just blasting him in the face with a spell. Not that you are very good with spells. But damn does his touch feel nice, his hands are so damn warm and soft as he oh so fucking slowly slides your underwear down. Raphael hasn’t said a word and it’s been at least a minute—that must be a record. The lace finally reaches the ground and he taps your ankle.
Wordlessly you lift a foot and his low response of, “Good girl,” has you desperately fighting to control your stupid dumb animal body’s response. Your fingers itch to steady yourself on his shoulder but you refrain…just. Luckily all your adventuring has improved your athletics and you’re determined not to give the devil the satisfaction of stumbling before him into a wanton heap.
His thumb slips under the fabric still hanging around your other ankle and tugs at it. You’d been staring at the wall straight ahead, eyes fixed on a portrait hanging in some ornate frame. But at the tug, you glance down and see Raphael staring up at you, that smug smirk plastered on his face. Could you get away with kneeing him in the face? Lords above, could you get away with yanking him by the hair (and it was such lovely hair) and between your legs? Both are tempting.
“Little mouse?” His voice is a long lilting drawl and he tugs again at your knickers.
You lift your foot quickly, again saving yourself from tripping over, as he slips it off your foot and stands. You stand there a moment, dazed. Your skin still feels like it is on fire, he must be able to smell your arousal…you can. And you can see the way his nostrils flare as he stands and you watch the devil bring the pink lace up to his face and inhale. Now would be a great time for the Elder Brain to try and shake free of its bonds, you think.
“Did you just—”
With a snap of his fingers, you're suddenly dressed. “Was that so difficult?” “Why didn’t you just do that to take them?” you ask incredulously. “Where would be the fun in that?” He straightens the lapel on your clothing and adds, “Remember, I will still be here when you are ready to admit you need me.”
You grit your teeth. “I don’t need the hammer.”
Those deceptively warm eyes regard you and he smiles again, making your hands itch. You can feel how wet you are between your thighs, and in that moment you realise that is not what he means. But you do not get a chance to speak as with a wave of his hand you find yourself disappearing in a flash of crimson-tinged ash before you are teetering on the steps of Sharess’ Caress in the warm evening air. That smarmy, panty sniffing, bastard. As you begin the walk back to the tavern, you tell yourself your frustration has nothing to do with the way he had touched you. Nothing at all.
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When you return to the Elfsong, you attempt to sneak past the group as they eat around a large wooden table. Of course, you can’t get past Shadowheart, the cleric spotting you and instantly dragging you to the table. You slide in, squished between her and Gale as she begins to question where you’ve been.
“Nowhere,” you say with a dismissive shrug, proud of how natural it sounds as you grab a bread roll and try to ignore the lingering throb between your legs. ”I just went for a walk.”
You feel eyes on you and look up into the knowing gaze of Astarion. “A walk, darling?” He leans in across the table and you see his nostrils flare. “An exhilarating one, I take it?” He sniffs again. “Climb any cherry trees on your…walk?”
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kitthepurplepotato · 2 months
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Chapter 3 - A wild Mama Dynamight appears!
Summary: Y/N gets the shove-talk.
Warnings: Bakugou drinks an alcoholic beverage, swear words, the chapter ends with a teeny-tiny cliffhanger (sorry)
First chapter Master List
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
It’s an hour after opening and Red Riot is nowhere in sight. You lay on the freshly cleaned counter with a sigh.
You got a little bit too used to have that ray of sunshine in your shop every morning. His pure existence makes your day better. Sometimes, you come in all grumpy, your mood heavily influenced by the lack of sleep, but one glance at the hero’s smile and the world is full of rainbows and unicorns.
Fuck, you miss him already. It’s really fucking concerning how quickly you developed feelings for this random guy. Okay, calling him a random a guy is quite rude as you literally grew up watching him in the TV, but he’s just a human, a human you’ve met only a month ago yet here you are, pining like a stupid school girl because the guy finally managed to get a day off.
“Waiting for someone?” Your boss mutters with a knowing smile which you answer with a big, loud and needy whine. She only snickers at that and then the door opens; you look up with hopeful eyes, searching for a blotch of red but you only find a blond dude in a cap and a face mask, looking sus as fuck.
Is he about to rob this place? - you wonder for a second; haha, he can fucking try, no one except your closest family members know this, but you went to Shiketsu High School and managed to get a hero license as well, so you are absolutely more than capable to annihilate a single fucker even with the lack of training in the last few years.
“Good fucking morning to you too.” The guy looks straight into your eyes with nothing but pure murderous intent.
You shudder under his intense gaze and your face pales in a matter of seconds. You have no idea what you have done personally to deserve such a stare but the guy doesn’t budge. He does look familiar to you though…
Uhm… haha… you definitely can’t annihilate this guy, because this guy is the Number Two pro hero, Dynamight. Oopsie daisy.
Knowing how much you’ve bullied Red Riot in the last few weeks, you have a feeling you are about to get “the shove-talk”.
“Good fucking morning to you too indeed, sir Dynamight!” You mumble under your nose, still a little bit shaken up by being almost murdered by his eyes. The guy keeps an eye contact as he puts his elbow on the counter; his whole posture screams “don’t fuck with me” so you… you don’t fuck with him.
Why?
Because this guy is Red Riot’s best friend. Otherwise he would be out of the door for acting inappropriately.
It’s quite amusing to you how much you care about his opinion; it’s not like you are dating his best friend or anything, you are literally just a barista who likes to banter with his favorite customer. Or at least that’s what you try to tell yourself when you feel the urge to ask a guy out and that’s like… every five seconds, really.
“Give me your best coffee.” Dynamight speaks up and it sounds like a challenge; and maybe it is, maybe this is the only way you can earn the guys approval.
Okay, you need to think.
This is Dynamight. He likes his stuff with a kick. A chili hot chocolate would definitely be something he would enjoy but he specifically said “coffee”, so that not an option.
A coffee with a kick… ahh!
“You doin’ hero work today, sir?” You ask nonchalantly while you poor some cold brew into a cup - Dynamight doesn’t look like a person who drinks his coffee sweet, but he also looks like someone who likes to be extra just because he fucking can.
“It’s our inventory and paperwork day, so we are the last agency on the call list so probably no.” He answers with a confused face but doesn’t ask any further questions about your silly question.
It’s time for you to make your favorite beverage… baileys coffee.
Yep, you heard it right. It’s alcohol time.
You give the drink a really light stir, just enough for the two colors to swirl together, then you top it up with some whip cream and finish the masterpiece with a hand-drawn explosion on the top (you don’t want to boast or anything but you can do a lot of stuff with chocolate syrup.)
You hand out the beverage with a massive smirk on your face and Dynamight takes it with a doubtful glare. He takes one sip and by the look of it, the drink kicks him right in the face; he stares at you with an incredulous look.
“It’s 8 in the morning, you absolute madman!” Dynamight fucking laughs, and that’s how you know you won this round. “Are you even allowed to sell alcohol in this place?”
“I’m not selling alcohol. I’m sharing my own secret stash with a friend of a friend. Don’t sue us, please.”
“Only if you make me another one for my fiancé, she will loose her mind from this shit.”
Dynamight gets excited for a second but then he schools his face into his usual scowl.
You can’t believe how cute he is in real life; the fact that his first thought was to share the drink with his loved one makes your heart melt. Now it makes sense why those two are besties. “So… Eijirou likes you.” The blond mutters like he’s talking about the weather. You have a sudden urge to drink some of that Bailey’s yourself, straight out of the bottle. “Red, shitty hair, sunshine reincarnation, rainbows coming out if his ass…” Katsuki tries to help like the only reason you are rendered speechless is the fact that you have no idea what the guy’s first name is.
“Red likes everyone.” You retort, faking nonchalance.
“I’ve been his best fucking friend for 10 years and trust me when I say, he doesn’t. Not like this, at least. I don’t know what kind of sorcery did you do to him, but…”
“I did nothing!” You retort loudly. “He’s my favorite customer, I like to banter with him and tease him. I try my best to make sure he leaves with a smile on his face. That’s all.”
“So you can see through his facade already. Impressive.”
“Facade?”
“Eijirou isn’t a ray of sunshine all the time. Not a lot of people can see through all the positivity he fakes daily to be liked. He’s sensitive and depressed. He’s my best fucking friend and if you break his fucking heart I swear to god I’ll chop you up and hide your body parts all over the country so no one can ever find you.”
“What if he breaks my heart?” You mumble with pout, absolutely not affected by the meaningless threats.
“Hm. You ain’t scared of me.” He mutters under his nose with a small smile on his face.
“Should I be? You might act like an asshole but it feels like it comes from a good place. Dunno, I might be weird. I’m glad Red has such a supportive friend by his side. He’s such a himbo sometimes, I’m a little bit worried for him.” You admit with a slight blush on your face.
There are a few seconds of silence between you two before the blond speaks up again:
“If he ever breaks your heart I’ll chop his dick off for letting such a good woman down.”
Needless to say your blush comes back with a full force at his words.
“Deal.” You mumble just as the door open up with full force.
“Katsuki, let her live! … oh. Uhm. I thought he’s… Nevermind. Hi!” Red Riot pants, out of breath. He also forgot to put on a shirt before he ran here. Oh damn, what a day to be alive.
“Did you just run straight here from your apartment, you idiot?!”
“Uhm, I felt like running today?” Red Riot pants with a massive grin on his face. You really want to know how does it feel like to kiss a guy with shark teeth… Y/N, calm the fuck down. Stop staring at his teeth. And his chest… those sweat-slicked abs… oh damn, call the popo, there’s something illegal going on in this coffee shop.
“Eijirou, you live 15 kilometers away and you aren’t even supposed to be in today!” Dynamight yells, and you can’t stop yourself from teasing the guy.
“Yeah, EIJIROU, give yourself a break!”
Kirishima… chokes on his saliva in the most unattractive way, but he looks so fucking adorable while doing it, and you kinda want to kiss him.
Wait? What?! You did not just think that, did you?!
“What if I wanted to see my favorite barista on my break? Am I not allowed to be in the area?” Kirishima gets a little bit cocky, probably trying to look badass and miserably failing at it.
“Look into my eyes and tell me that you didn’t get a message from my woman about me coming to check out the coffee shop.” Dynamight speaks up with a blank face, eyes staring holes into Kirishima’s skull. Damn. You see? That’s badass. The calmness, the way you can see Dynamight knows Red Riot is lying right now but he gives him a last chance to save himself. Kirishima cowers under his gaze, his body goes numb as his facade crumbles and he sighs, clearly giving up on fighting his best friend.
“The menace* messaged me…” Red Riot sits down on the nearest chair, completely defeated.
Honestly, if you thought Kirishima himself is a better entertainment than a sitcom, there two together are downright unbeatable when it comes to comedy.
* The Menace is the hero name of Katsuki’s fiancé. She started as a secretary at Katsuki’s agency after she got into an accident and couldn’t work as a hero for a long time but after she got better she joined Katsuki’s agency as a hero. The Menace was Katsuki’s nickname for her when they “hated” each other. If you want to read their story, read Bakugou Katsuki’s daily shenanigans!
“While I certainly enjoy your shenanigans and you two made my day, can you please leave now? Dynamight, your woman’s coffee will get cold. Red, no one will come to my coffee shop if there is a half naked guy sitting in the window, even though I must admit, it is a beautiful sight.”
“I’m… not even getting… a coffee?” Kirishima gives you the biggest puppy eyes the world has even seen while Dynamight snickers in the background like a cheeky child.
“Come here.” You motion towards the redhead with your fingers. “Come on, I ain’t got all day!” You reprimand and Kirishima moves closer, clearly terrified. You can barely conceal your smile as he finally makes it to the counter, ready to get smacked in the head, his eyes closed, ready for the impact. Instead of smacking him you jump on top of the counter and rake your fingers through his soft, gel-free strands as you leave a tiny kiss on the top of his forehead, an act full of affection and love. “Now get the fuck out of my coffee shop, you smelly himbo.” Everyone who hears your lovesick giggle is able to tell how much you adore this man… except the man himself. It’s kinda funny how oblivious the guy is.
“Yes, sir.” Is all you get as an answer; Red Riot is out of of the door before you can say bye; you stare at the door for a few second, already the missing the warmth Kirishima has brought with him.
“Wow, you’ve got it bad. I was worried for no reason.” Katsuki grins at you, sipping on his girlfriend drink, using the cute reusable pink straw you put in it for another brownie point.
“You look like a slut, Dynamight, get out and get laid.” You giggle while you roll your eyes, absolutely gobsmacked by the fact that Bakugou is… well… a completely different person than the loud and aggressive pro hero Dynamight you see in the news almost every day.
“Behave yourself.” Katsuki grins and after a lazy wave, he leaves; Suddenly, it’s way too lonely in the empty coffee shop.
“They are an interesting bunch.” Your boss snickers, her head poking out of the staff room door.
“Shut up.” You whine, only just realizing that she’s heard the whole conversation. “And don’t tell my uncle. Don’t want him to die an early death.”
“Yes, sir.” Your boss parrots; you really want to to go home and yell into a pillow out of embarrassment.
~•🪨•~
A few days later:
Kirishima is a happy child; he just got his favorite coffee from his favorite barista and if that’s not enough, he even got another kiss on his cheek. His heart has a hard time with the whole situation, it beats out of his chest every time Y/N comes close to him and he certainly needs to work on that bit to preserve this blooming friendship without ruining it with his stupid, unrequited romantic feelings but that’s a problem for another day; today, Kirishima is the one in charge at the agency, he’s the big boss, the one with all the responsibility and not even Y/N’s cheeky kisses can ruin his concentration as he stares at the CCTV, looking for troublesome individuals. It’s not like he doesn’t have specific people in the room to do this for him but Kirishima is a nosy little bitch and absolute likes the random funny interactions that sometimes happen on the screen; there is a guy who always dances on his way home from work, another one likes to pet the neighbors dog as he walks past, even if he gets bitten every time then there is that girl with two heads that likes to have a fight with herself in the middle of the street then walk into a lamp post by accident.
Today, he’s not looking at the random bystanders though; he’s looking at the camera right by this street, he’s looking at a smiling Y/N, staring out of the massive window, clearly daydreaming; Kirishima wonders what she’s thinking about and if he’s able to make those dreams come true.
Kirishima is aware that he is… uhm… a little bit creepy for doing this so he usually only does it for a few minutes then moves to the next frame.
They got a special security camera set up for that coffee shop after it opened; villains aren’t stupid to try and rob a shop right next to the big Dynamight-Red Riot Agency but even if Katsuki denies it, they both care about their neighbors and they want them to feel safe, hence why every single shop in the area has a special camera set up so they can help out in a case of emergency; fire, water damage, robbery, hell, they even send their interns to help out with rude, aggressive customers from time to time, just to keep the young, inexperienced hero students entertained on a boring day.
Kirishima is just about to look somewhere else, mesmerized by the sight of his… well, let’s be honest, crush; when he feels his heart drop down into his belly; three, masked individuals enter the shop, clearly up to no good and Kirishima doesn’t wait a single second before he jumps out of his office window and lands right in front of the (hopefully) unlocked coffee shop back door.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He mutters to himself as he sneaks into the backroom, his whole body charged with the urge to protect the sunshine of his life.
… next chapter!
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Potato ramble:
- I know, ending the chapter with that shit wasn’t nice but don’t worry, it’s gonna be fine. The angst will be resolved in the next chapter! And something good will come out of it!
- Bro I miss writing with Katsuki so much. 😭
- I hope you still enjoy this story! 💜 Send me your thoughts!
- If you enjoy my silly little stories, you can support me with some “coffee” here!
TL: @porusuniverse @sixxze @unofficialmuilover @cheesenmax @readingfan @sammmm29 @pwinglez1 @happydragonfrog @magicalhandsherringclam @lovingnightharmony @theequeenofcurses @kirishima-eijirock @nerinefy @selfindulgenthoe @fierysplash213 @woofwoofwolf @touyasprettydoll @confused-smol-fan
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winter-sol · 1 year
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🧡birthday night with Levi🎉
word count: 4,6k contents: AFAB reader, explicit sex (minors dni), fluff and smut. porn with feelings, some rough sex and possesive dialogue. levi only has one dick, sorry. repost! since tumblr is messed up. hey there! this is something I wrote for leviaday, following the events of his birthday event '23, after the party at the hotel. started as something fluffy and slightly horny. got out of hand, oops. hope it's not too late for a birthday fic uwu
also at ao3 here ;)
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“Well, once again it’s only me, you, Asmo and Mammon. So much for an epic party, lmao”. Levi’s voice is a bit difficult to hear with the roaring noise of the two party animals singing a song at the karaoke machine. Asmodeus is an amazing singer, but it’s late, they’re drunk and at this point they’re screaming more than hitting actual notes.
“Yeah, it’s late though, and everyone gave their all collecting those cards today. I’m sure they all fell asleep as soon as they hit their beds”.
“Yeah, I agree.”
A particular loud sound comes out of Mammon, he seems to be quite passionate about those lyrics. Asmo sips what’s left of his drink and proceeds to do the chorus. It’s going pretty well, to be honest.
Leviathan’s hand finds yours slowly but surely, his grab is gentle and firm. He’s absolutely not shy tonight, not after he had such a great day. And not after he was so open with you a couple hours ago, at that fountain. You squeeze his hand and lean your head on his shoulder, relishing the softness of his clothes and the fragrance of his hair.
“Do you want to sing another one? I made sure to put all of your favorite openings and endings before we started.”
“You’re the best, I mean it. But I think I’m fine like this”, you answer while you intertwine your fingers with his, emphasizing your words.
You feel his breath speed up a bit only for a moment before he says “Okay. Let’s just watch those two embarrass themselves then.”
The next song seems to be a ballad, one that Asmo wants to sing alone because he claims he’s too talented to share the spotlight with stupid Mammon right now. And he wasn’t wrong at all, it was coming out quite good since he was putting his all.
The alcohol from the champagne and the wine you had drunk that night wasn’t affecting you as strongly anymore, but Levi’s companion was so pleasant and cozy you found yourself being silent while reading the lyrics on the screen through heavy eyes.
It talked about a lover who made your days brighter, who you wanted to spend the rest of your days with. Suddenly, you remembered that afternoon, at the park. The sunshine resting on your skin was warm and blissful, you had missed it so much. Still, nothing made you as happy as hearing Levi’s nervous tone while he wondered about a hypothetical wedding. You could feel your heart racing once again at the memory.
You turn to face him, and find him wearing a silly smile, though you’re not sure if it’s directed at his brothers’ display or it comes from having spent a long, enjoyable day that simply makes him happy. Maybe he’s feeling as content as you after all you two have been through today.
Leaning forward, you press your lips to his cheek, making him startle at the unexpected sensation. He looks at you with big eyes, but once he notices your expression he immediately softens. Without a second thought, he kisses you on the mouth, not as chaste as you’re used to in his advances, but still a calmed, romantic one. It’s so full of feeling you melt in it for a moment.
His lips are smooth and slightly moist, the sight makes you want to keep pressing into them. He barely starts separating your mouths when you insist on kissing him again, and again. It’s not an inappropriate scene but you’re sure on any other day you’d avoid doing it in front of others, even if they’re distracted blasting the speakers. Still, right now you can’t really care about that. You can only think of Leviathan.
After a while, you two finally break the kiss, your breathing coming out restless. His arm had found its way around your back while you were busy, and now you realize how close you are to him. The joy that fills you is so strong you need to hide your face on his neck, unable to break the distance. A couple minutes must have passed, and you finally realize the song had ended and only the background music of the karaoke menu is coming out.
“Well, well, my dear MC, my dear big brother, we’re heading to our bedroom. Make sure to not stay up too late, ok? Though I wouldn’t blame you for it, am I right? Heehee.” Asmo says, a wink accompanying that sentence. Realization hits you but you try to keep it hidden.
“Hey, don’t mention something like that! Ugh. Bye, losers.” Mammon waves his hand while they disappear through the long corridor heading to the dorms.
“…They totally saw us, right?”
“Yep... Whooaahh, what do I do with this cringe?!” Leviathan says while he dramatically lifts his free hand to his forehead.
You grab his hand in order to calm him down, “Don’t mind, Levi, I’m sure we’ve embarrassed ourselves to their eyes harder with our cosplays and all of that. This is nothing”.
“That… doesn’t sound any better at all but I take it, lol”, he pauses and then says in a lower tone “Anyways… Well, now we’re alone and all… Do you… Do you remember what I said earlier? That maybe after the party, we…”.
You were expecting this to happen, yet you can’t help to be touched by his initiative. He’s grown so much in the time you’ve been together. “Of course. I… want to be with you tonight”. A pause. You aren’t that confident either, it’s hard to voice this kind of stuff sometimes. “Shall we head to our room?”
“Y-Yes.”
He stands up and grabs your hand, leading the way through the floor.
When you enter, you realize how luxurious the bedroom is as well. A big window displays a breathtaking scenery, city lights decorating the sight accompanied by a huge moon lighting up the dark, spacious alcove.
It’s a beautiful place, and you really want to savor this moment. You grip his hand and guide him to the large bed, expectation rising inside.
There is something you want to tell him, that you need to tell him.
You stand in front of him, suddenly thanking your height difference so you don't have to directly look into his eyes.
“Levi… today, you said it many times, and I’m not sure if I was reciprocal enough. But I wanted to tell you that I love you… I love you so much that only the fact of spending today with you, of being here with you now, it makes me as… nervous, as the first times we went out together…” God, this is harder than you thought. You end up looking at the floor when you feel his arms wrap around you tightly.
“Hey… How the tables have turned. How is it possible I’m the one comforting you suddenly? Haha…” He says, his chin resting above your head. Before he can say anything else, you continue.
“I love you. I also… want to spend many birthdays with you. And now… I want you to tell me what you want from me. Anything, everything you want, I’ll give it to you.” Your own words overwhelm you, but you try to stay calmed.
But you feel his breath catching and now you’re sure you’re not any better at all.
Before laying you down on the bed, the squeezes you in his arms one more time. Slowly, he positions himself above you, and his eyes rest on you with a look full of adoration, mouth slightly agape, kissable lips parted that you only wish to feel again.
He directs an unexpected smile towards you. “You are always everything I want, but now… I’ll take your offer, ok?”
Idiot. He made you nervous again. “Y-Yes”. You were ready to give in to whatever he’d do next, but you suddenly remembered something.
“Wait!” You exclaimed. “I need to do something first!” He only watches intrigued as you cast a simple spell directed at the door.
“It’s done. We don’t want anyone to hear a thing, right?”
“Oh?... Oh! That’s so cool! You’re so amazing!” He beams at you, expression full of admiration.
You laugh a bit. “Levi, it’s not a big deal.” Of course, you were happy at his compliment. You stare at his bright, adoring eyes, and between smiles, your lips meet each other in the middle.
The kiss starts innocently, slow and sweet. But as you give into the feeling, it grows hungry quickly.
His mouth is hot and wet, tongue finding every single spot he wants. His hands run through your hair, to your neck, your shoulders, touching everywhere he can. One goes to your upper back, holding you there, while the other goes lower. He stops for a moment, but once you grasp the hair of his nape a little too strongly, he gets the message and grabs your breast without any more reservation.
The palm cupping it moves, relishing everywhere it can, delighting in the softness of your chest. You wished your clothes weren’t interrupting, though.
His mouth moves to your neck, and he starts kissing there, tongue lavishing and giving small bites. Asshole, he wants to leave a mark. You know he has wanted for a while, but you’re too reserved to let all his brothers see that. But now, not only you don’t care anymore, but you actually gave him permission this time. You’re his to take and take you he will.
Not like it matters, you know there’s a spell you can cast to hide it tomorrow anyway.
Your train of thought is interrupted by his hands reaching under your shirt, touching your scorching skin directly. Your shirt ends up at your neck while curious fingers start grabbing your chest, softly rubbing your nipple. His other hand has moved lower as well, grabbing your thigh, a strong grip squeezing the plumpness in there, followed by a light caress.
The duality of his bold, desperate grasp, and his kind, gentle touch is only reflecting his true self, his true intentions, his unapologetic desire and sweet respect. He's just like that, and it was driving you crazy.
A violent pinch drives you back to the moment. Moving down, he looks into your eyes while he starts relieving the pain with his tongue, tenderly lapping at it while his hand now stimulates the other one.
After feasting himself with your chest, he shifts his position and grab your legs, spreading them for him to accommodate between them. He starts giving attention to your exposed belly, open mouth kisses going lower each time. When he starts unbuttoning your pants, clearly getting his intentions, you panic for a second.
“H-Hey. Is that ok? Shouldn’t I be the one… doing things to you? I… want to do it.”
His slight surprise is quickly replaced by a small laugh. “Eh? You’re worrying about that? No way, I get a free pass to do what I want, right? Then let me do this!” He says as if the mere idea of thinking that going down on you wouldn’t be pleasing for him is ridiculous. “W-Whatever comes next… Well, we’ll see, ok?”
You sigh. Fuck, now it shouldn’t be the time to make him doubt a thing. “Ok… Let’s do it”.
As he lowers the garment, he has your panties in front of him. He stays there for a while simply looking, fingers grazing the cotton fabric, following the outline of your intimate area. Of course, the pervert likes panties a little bit too much. He's captivated, the way he touches is devoted and erotic, and you find yourself wanting more.
A shameless kiss to your clothed nub makes a moan come out of you. The sound is invigorating to him, driving him to give more wet, open-mouthed kisses to your cunt. You close your eyes when he gives attention to your clit once again, sucking at it through the fabric.
“L-Levi! Ah…”
Your sweet, high-pitched whines are like music to his ears, he’d do anything to take them out of you. He pulls the fabric aside and starts tasting your folds directly, savoring your wetness.
You open your eyes and lower your gaze; you simply want to look at him while he does it. You grab his hair, soft at first, petting him tenderly. But the sensation of his fingers slipping inside you while he eats you out makes you pull at his strands. The violent gesture is arousing to him, making him delve into his ministrations even harder, his own moans muffled while his face is buried into your sex as he keeps licking and sucking, making a mess with his tongue and fingers, getting you closer to your orgasm.
“Levi, I-I won’t last much longer. I-If you want more then you should stop-”
“No fucking way. I wanna make you come. You really think I’ll end this now?”
You won’t argue with him, you’re far too gone for that. You try to look at him while he finishes you but the frantic pace of his fingers and the sloppy, wet kisses he’s giving you are too much for you. You can barely stand the pleasure growing, your legs closing around him and squeezing his head in place, unable to move out even if he wanted to. He actually likes your thighs restraining him, encouraging him to keep going harder.
His feral tongue, his knuckle-deep fingers moving inside you finally take you to the edge. Your vision blurs and only see white when your climax hits you, a loud whine escaping your throat.
As you come down, your legs relax and let go of him. You feel a final kiss down there before he parts from you, fluids and saliva running down his chin. It’d seem forbidden to even look at him right now.
“…How was that? Did you like it?”
“Huh? You’re asking that?! Don’t fuck with me.” You mutter, only playing with him, and at this point of your relationship you’re certain he gets it. “… Of course, you were amazing… As always.” You end up adding.
He beams at you, though you’re sure it’s not an innocent smile after all. “Hehehe… Great, because I’m not done with you yet.”
“Hey, let me touch you.” You let out before he gets another idea. He doesn’t have time to answer when you already reach for his clothed erection.
“A-Ah." He seems somewhat taken aback. But he reacts faster after getting so turned on, giving in. "You know I can’t say no, right?”
You can't help but grin. “On your back. Now.” You order after having his consent.
“Y-Yes.”
Resting above him, you give him little kisses on his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, and his lips. The taste is not good at all, but you don’t care.
You grab his length under the hem of his pants and give a firm squeeze at the base. He lets out a groan, looking at you through his long, blue eyelashes. His dark eyes, color engulfed by his large pupils, reflect the moonlight. A shiny, innocent look to a lust-filled gaze.
“You’re beautiful, Levi.” You whisper closely to him, making sure he can hear your devotion. Your hand starts a pace, up and down, a slow movement that will lead him crazy.
“Nnnggh… MC… Keep going.”
He already has precum leaking. You pass your thumb through his slit and smear the liquid down the shaft, easing the movement. You speed up the pace only a little, and he already is squirming under your touch. So easy, so desperate.
“Give me more. Do it faster.”
He’s open about what he wants tonight, and you can’t say you don’t like this side of him. He’s so gorgeous, you want all of him.
You give his neck a few kisses before heading down, sure of what you’ll do next. He only looks at you, not even shy about it. He’s feeling greedy and won’t stop you.
A small, feather light touch of your tongue on his head has a sharp breath coming out of him. He inhales slowly, his buffed chest looking splendid from your point of view. God, he’s so sexy.
“Could you take that out for me?” You say while resting a hand above his torso, grabbing the fabric of his shirt.
He obeys easily. He wants you to look at him, he wants you to desire him. You’re greeted by the sight of his toned figure, abs and pectorals delicious under the moonlight, strong arms supporting his weight as he leans, watching you.
You’re eager to taste him, engulfing his head in your mouth, tongue teasing. Your hand works through the base while you take the upper part of his dick deeper into your wet heat. You bob your head, saliva running down his length. It makes the movement of your hand smoother. You suck firmly and after you take it off your mouth, you work it swirling your tongue. It’s sloppy, you're sure you don't look as attractive as you'd like, but you can’t stop. It's delirious, doing this to him.
He brings a hand to your hair, petting it at first. But after your pace increases, he grips the back of your head, starting to guide the movement.
Ah, you can’t complain when he gets like this. The thought of your usually timid boyfriend getting rough is the hottest thing ever. Heat builds between your thighs, eager for more.
You can feel yourself drooling around his cock, the motion fast and intense, its head hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes have slightly watered at the roughness of it, you can almost feel yourself choking on it, but he always makes sure to give you some space to breathe before pushing you down again.
You hear him moan shamelessly at the sensation, completely surrendered to the pleasure.
He slows down for a second and says “I-I’m coming. Can I… Inside…?” His voice is soft and breathy, as hot as it’s cute.
You manage to nod, unable to speak.
Resuming the movement, he guides your head down and up again, as frantic as before. The pressure drives him to the edge, and between loud whines, you feel him climaxing and filling your mouth, a thin, slightly creamy liquid easy to swallow. You’re thankful he’s a demon, with… well, different anatomy and such.
He lets out with a ‘pop’, rests of cum escaping your lips. You look at him and he looks as wrecked as you think you should look right now. Well, you must be even more messed up after that.
Mimicking his previous words, you say “So… Was it good? Did you like it?”
He laughs, with the audacity to sound embarrassed. “Y-Yeah. Thank you.”
His face is filled with bliss, but you won’t forget about the pressure you feel down there.
You decide to tease him. “So, should we get ready to sleep or-!”
“Nonononono. Nope. Not yet, ROLF. I told you; I’m not finishing with you soon. I mean, it’s already past midnight, technically it’s not my birthday anymore but I still get to have more wishes come true… Right?”
“Yes, ‘cause I’m going to kill you if you leave me like this.”
“Eek! Sorry, on my way!”
He guides you to his lap and after he settles you inside his arms, he takes off your shirt. You lift a little to undress your pants and underwear while he does the same.
After that, you take a moment to simply rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. You’re eager for more, but that won’t stop you to relish your time with him. He caresses your back and your hair, giving soft kisses to your forehead.
He speaks again, his voice is hushed. “I love you, MC. Can you give me a little bit more of you tonight?”
He’s tender and sweet, it fills you with contentment and want.
You turn to face him, kiss his chin, and say “All of it. You can take all of me.”
Between passionate kisses, you straddle him, settling your arms around his neck. He locks an arm around your waist, while the other cups your cheek. Your tongues are still bitter, but the need to taste and relish each other is stronger.
You can feel his hardness against your thigh, ready for more. After parting your mouths, you murmur in his ear “Levi… put it in…”
He inhales, mentalizing himself for what’s to come.
“Ok. Move up a bit.”
You do as you’re told, and he positions his erection at your entrance. The sensation of his tip prodding at your core fills you with anticipation, and you lower yourself on it. It’s pushing inside you, inch by inch, slowly. You two are desperate for it, but you won’t accelerate things.
His cock is finally buried inside you, as much as it can fit. It’s spreading your walls, throbbing, and you give yourself some time to adjust to its girth.
You feel stuffed, it’s thick and warm, a burning sensation runs through your body.
“MC… You feel so good inside. So wet and hot…” He sounds like he’s under a spell, enchanted, fascinated with how good it is.
“L-Levi…”
“C-Can I move?” He says, his next words murmured in your ear “Please, please. Let me fuck you.”
There’s no way you can refuse to that, not now, not in any universe. You kiss his lips and nod.
The movement is slow, taking most of it out before entering again, savoring the drag. You’re so close to him, enveloped by his arms while he thrusts from below. You kiss him while he sets a pace, whining into his mouth by the sensation.
It’s starting to feel like it’s not enough, so you start moving your hips, meeting him and matching his movements. The increase of friction gets to him, a moan escaping him as well.
His hands grab your ass, decided to guide the rhythm again, growing faster. Pleasure boils inside you, arching your back while you grind your hips against him. His pounds start getting erratic, desperate for your velvety heat.
It hits your core over and over again, deep, strong, your breath is shattered, his name on your lips coming out quietly, broken.
“Leviathan- Ah! It feels good, Levi- Ah!”
He pants, his voice is rasped as he speaks, “Fuck, MC, you feel so good. Please, let me go harder.”
“Yes, please go harder, please- Ah!”
You cry out as his tempo is ruthless, unrelenting, the dirty sounds of smacking flesh resonating through the walls. He fucks hard into you, chasing his pleasure into your warmth. You look down just a little and can see his cock disappearing into your body repeatedly, an indecent view only meant for you two. It’s hot as hell.
Even if you try to match the pace with your hips, you’re not in control at all. His movements are frenetic, desperate, his strong grip using you as he pleases. You have completely given up yourself to him.
You catch his expression, furrowed brows, lascivious eyes barely open, looking at your bodies merge into each other. It only makes you even more aroused, you want him like this so badly.
“Levi�� Your voice comes out as a strangled noise. “Levi! I love you. I-I’m yours. Forever- Ah!”
Your sounds turn into choked sobs, no longer able to make proper words. He’s euphoric, groaning his words “You-You’re mine. Only mine. You belong to me, no one else!”
One of his hands go to your sex, fingers stimulating your clit with a strong, merciless pressure. It takes only a few seconds to send you over the edge, hitting your second orgasm of the night. You scream at the exploding pleasure, his thrusts hard as he comes too, whining loudly as your tight walls clench around him through his climax, emptying himself inside you. Your body convulses as the last of your orgasm hits you, and collapses above him.
He pants, matching your shaking breath. After some seconds, he pulls out, and you can feel his release leaking out of you. Ugh. Well, you can’t complain, you enjoy to do it like that as much as he does.
He lays down completely on the bed, taking your weak body with him, caging it protectively in his arms, as if he’s not ready to let you go yet, not after you told and proved him you belong to him.
Your erratic breathing needs to calm down. Resting above him, your fingers brush his chest while you relax, hugged tightly against him.
Some minutes must have passed. Your head is pressed against him, face directed at the window. His heartbeat echoes through his chest, and the sound of it is comforting. Your eyes are focused again, and you can see the lights of the city. They’re still on.
You’re not sure what time it is. Apparently, dawn is close to come, but the night seems to be extending only for you. You’re thankful that suddenly the time feels so slow. At this moment, you don’t need anything else, nothing that isn’t being right here with him.
He had been petting your hair for a while, his lips pressing into your forehead makes you lean to face him. He’s smiling, infatuated eyes looking at you.
“I think this is exactly what I wanted… hehe.”
You giggle too. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy with it. I love you, Levi.”
“I love you too. You’re everything to me, my best friend, my partner, my Henry.”
You lean to kiss him on the lips, a chaste one perfect for this moment.
“Well, once you’re feeling more… recovered, I’ll ask you to take me to the bathroom. I… really need to clean myself.”
“Oh? Oh! Sure. Shit, sorry, lmao.”
You chuckle at his clumsiness, and close your eyes for a while, relishing in the moment.
---
You wake up to the sensation of a late morning sunshine touching your face, curtains wide open since no one closed them the night before. It’s a nice, cozy sensation, though. You didn’t know how much you liked sunbeams until you found yourself missing them at the Devildom.
Levi’s pressed tightly against you; the night owl seems to be still in a deep slumber. Apparently, you were the big spoon. Somehow. Considering how tall he is compared to you. You like it anyways, his hair is smooth, violet locks softly decorating his peaceful features. The word for him right now could be… ethereal. Yes.
You remembered the spell is still active, so no sound comes from outside of your room. Do you need to lift it? His brothers (though, now they’re like your brothers too) might start making a fuss over some foolishness, not something you want to deal with right now.
It’s April 10th, time waits for no one, and his birthday is over. Today, you’re all heading back to the Devildom. You certainly can enjoy this moment for longer, right?
As if sensing your thoughts, Leviathan slowly wakes up, taking his time to shift and face you, eyes barely open but clearly focused on you.
“Hey… Good morning, love.” You murmur.
His words are mumbled “Good mornin’… Why are you awake…” He yawns. “You know it’s still morning, right?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to look at your cute, sleeping face.”
“W-What… Shut up!” He whines, hiding on your chest. You laugh at the silly interaction, how is he embarrassed by that after last night? He’s incredible. You kiss his temple, and after sensing his smile, you feel like you have the energy to start your day.
Another year together awaits.
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thanks for reading 💖 likes and reblogs are appreciated.
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shhh-secret-time · 3 months
Note
Hi hi!
I’m super in love with your writing. The Craig and Tweek fic you just posted was 🫠🫠 SO GOOD
If it’s alright, I’d love to request a spicy Kenny or Stan fic 💙🧡 Or maybe one with both of them?! 🤭
Thank you so much!! Looking forward to more of your writing 🩷🩷
Why have one bitch when you can have two?! Why have two normal bitches when you can have 'em superhero flavored?!
Warning: Violence, Blood, Inappropriate Touching, Dirty Talk, Strong Language, Threesome, Oral, NSFW! Kenny also might be a little OOC
Pairing: Stan x Fem!Reader x Kenny
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"Come on..."
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You cursed under your breath for the fourth time as you tried to twist the dull key back and forth. The chipped jagged metal slipped into the lock but every time you twisted the key it would get stuck on the old lock and reject the motion. With a groan you pulled the key back out and glared down at the door; the stupid iron doorknob mocked you. You could hear it, cackling at you. That or the lack of sleep was finally starting to get to you.
It was bad enough your boss made you stay behind at the office while everyone else got to go home, but having you lock up this late by yourself was just icing on the shit cake. Of course, you agreed to do it, you didn't want to get fired, but this was ridiculous. If he was going to make you lock up for the night, the least he could do was give you a key that works. The low whine and flickering lamppost behind you was your only source of light before you had to resort to your phone light. The city lights weren't enough to illuminate the small lock making your eyes narrow down, adding to the frustration.
Sh-nk
"Fucking finally." The sound of the door finally locking was music to your ears, you jiggled the key out of the lock and stuffed it into your bag.
Now it was time for the walk home, despite being forced to put in extra hours and how annoying the whole situation was; you couldn't deny how great it was that you lived so close. Well, usually it was great that you lived so close because you would normally be walking home during the evening, when there was still light. You took a deep breath and turned to walk down the little stairs going up to the back door of the office, clutching your bag close to your chest. Scanning the dark alleyway, you stepped into, your knew this was a bad idea but you'd be damned if you had to fight with that door again.
The sound of your shoes clicking against the broken stone echoed into the night, carefully walking around the bags of garbage leaning against the brick wall and the trash littering the dirty alley. Faded and wet newspaper clinging to the ground, the smell of wet garbage assaulted your senses. Your nose crinkled as you shook your head at the sight, it was hard to see your city like this. Even harder when you realized how many times you passed through this very alleyway without giving it a second thought, but now because you had to be more aware of everything around you it was hard to ignore.
At least you thought you were more aware, your mind so focused on trying not to step in the mysterious puke looking stain on the ground you didn't hear the sounds of footsteps following you. It wasn't until you felt a warm puff of air on the back of your neck did you realize someone was that close to you, the smell of alcohol strong on their breath. A large hand came down to cup your face before you could turn and face the stranger, dirty nails digging into your lower jaw to keep you facing forward and your mouth covered. Your eyes widened in realization at what was happening, your body jerking violently against his hold. You just had to free your mouth and you could scream. Scream for someone to hear but the hold was too strong.
Barely able to make out the outline of your attacker, it looked like heavy set man with oily looking hair. When your eyes met with his it sent a shiver down your spine, your blood running cold at the lack of light in them. Dark orbs watching your every move, keeping you from moving against his hold. Before he could act, before you could bite down on his disgusting hands or stomp on his foot with your heels; a purple shadow wrapped around his body engulfing his large frame. The shadow swirled until it pulled taught around his heels, forcing his feet together. The large man's eyes widened like yours had done when he grabbed you. His hands let you go leaving behind dark bruises on your arms, but you could care less. Now that you were free there was only one thing on your mind. Violence.
The metal pipe that rest near your foot would do nicely, you scooped up the cold rusty pipe in your hands. With a firm swing you brought the pipe down on your attacker, the metal coming in contact with his skull causing an echoing sound to ring out. Maybe his skull cracked but underneath the sound of the metal ringing it was hard to tell, it was hard to care. All you knew was that you needed this man to stop moving, to stop moving away from the beckoning shadows that threatened to pull him into the dark.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa hey! He's out!" A thick gloved hand caught your wrist stopping you from slamming the pipe down again.
The hold on your wrist was gentle compared to the man bleeding out at your feet, it was enough to snap you out of the battle mode you were in. It was then you realized your hand was covered in blood, the broken pipe had cut your palm leaving a dark gash. A part of you was thankful that you hadn't beaten the man enough that it was his blood, the other part of you was disappointed. You should have swung harder. Your eyes dart from the blood on your hand to the man holding your wrist, his eyes are much softer filled with concern. Soft blues masquerading behind the pale-yellow visor around his eyes.
Your mind was still trying to catch up to everything happening. In just a few moments you went from fighting a door to fighting a grown man, to now staring into the face of one of the city’s most famous vigilantes, Toolshed. When he sees you've calmed down, he lets your wrist go, slowly moving his hand up to yours to inspect your palm. His brows furrowed at the deep cut, dark red blood seeping out of the wound. Panic was starting to catch up to you, your legs threatened to give out under you as the adrenaline leaves your body.
Another pair of arms holds you up before you hit the ground, another pair of gloved hands cupping your hips to steady you. Your back hit the front of the cloaked figures chest. A dull green glow covered by your body, but you didn't need to see the question mark on his chest to know who this was. Lavender purple eyes look down at you, and despite the piercing look his eyes held the same look of concern for you. There was no mistaking it, this was Mysterion.
"Careful. Let Toolshed get a look at that cut." His voice, that deep gravel, rumbled throughout his chest sending a different kind of shiver down your spine.
"O-oh um, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just...still-" You were cut off by a small squeeze on your hips, it was firm but not too rough just enough to reassure you.
"You don't need to apologize; you were the one that was attacked." There was a hint of amusement behind his tone and in his eyes, until he saw Toolshed examine your bruised arm.
Toolshed looked up at him with his lips pressed together in a thin line. Reaching down towards his toolbelt, he grabbed the crystal blue spray bottle. He attaches the small nozzle with quick movements, you could barely follow along with his movements. And you struggled to lock a door.
"This is going to sting a little but it's going to heal that wound, okay?" Toolshed shoots you a quick smile as he pulls the trigger down, a thin mist speaks across the palm of your hand.
You let out a small hiss and stomp your feet when the medicine takes to your hand. The burning is only temporary as it begins to numb the area and coats the gash. Your eyes crack open from squeezing shut watching the medicine work its magic, and it really was like magic. The skin begins to pull together, stitching like it was being sewn shut.
"W... wow that's amazing. What is that?" You ask with awe in your voice.
Toolshed only chuckles, looking up at you through his visors. That's twice now you've made these famous superheroes chuckle and it sent a giddy feeling through your body.
"Just a concoction Mysterion helped me put together. Can't go into too much detail, ruins the mystery." There's a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he looks past you towards Mysterion.
"Nailed that pun Toolshed." You could feel Mysterion's smirk in his reply.
Their lighthearted joking made you feel a little better. You smiled up at the two heroes and once you found the strength to come back to your legs you went to pull away from the hooded vigilante. He looks down at you when you move, his arms going back behind the long purple cloak around his body.
"Well, whatever it is it works wonders. Thank you, Toolshed." You paused and looked back towards Mysterion. "And I take it the shadow thing, was you? Thank you as well Mysterion."
"You don't need to thank us for doing our job. Besides I think you did most of the work. Do you know him?" Toolshed walked towards the man in question as he flipped open one of the pouches on the harness across his chest.
You watched as he pulled out ratchet straps, wrapping the thick material around the man. It wasn't likely that he'd wake up but too many close calls left Toolshed paranoid, it was better to be safe than sorry.
"No. I-...I don't think so. I think it was just a case of bad luck. I was working late so I had to close up the office."
"Alone?" It was Mysterion's turn to ask, his eyes scanning your form almost like he was still trying to make sure you were okay.
"Yeah. I live close so I thought I'd be okay." You click your tongue in annoyance because you couldn't be mad at your boss for this, but this never would have happened if he hadn't asked you to stay late.
Mysterion's eyes narrowed past you towards the office door. He scanned the area like you had done moments ago, the green question mark glowing on his chest lit up the purple in his eyes and the strands of blond hair poking out from under his hood. "Do you have a friend’s house to stay at tonight?" His voice snaps you out of your little trance.
"Uh yeah, my friend Stan is kind of close. I can ask him if I can stay with him and his partner." You eye Mysterion for a while trying not to question why he would ask something like that.
Mysterion's eyes widened as you pulled out your phone, darting over to Toolshed who shot him the same worried look. They knew revealing themselves to you would be dangerous, but they couldn't just sit back and watch as you got attacked.
Oh yes, Toolshed and Mysterion knew you were working late tonight. After all you told them you were. Well...you told Stan and Kenny you'd be working late at the office, but that was neither here nor there. Now here they were backing themselves into a corner as you tap away on your phone. Toolshed holds his breath, trying to remember if he put his phone on silent.
"I hope they're awake, they're usually asleep by now." You hum out as you finish the text.
Toolshed's phone dings and Mysterion feels his soul leave his body when he watches you look up from your phone. Slowly you turn to face the man, still crouched over the knocked-out man refusing to look at you.
Silence falls over the three of you. Mysterion goes to say something, to take the attention away from his partner.
"Um...how did you guys know I was here and that I needed help?" When you don't put your phone away Toolshed feels his heart hammering against his chest.
"Patrol." Mysterion answers you quickly, too quickly.
You narrow your eyes up at him like you're scrutinizing him. It was hard to read him past the hood and the shadows that were cast around him but that doesn't mean you wouldn't try. You took a few steps forward towards the man which only made him step away from you. The irony of someone like you making someone like him back away was not lost on him. A civilian making a vigilante back down. Not just any vigilante either, he was fucking Mysterion.
"Patrol huh?" You don't buy it. Tapping away on your phone you send Stan another text, nothing really of note, and when Toolshed's phone pings again you got what you were looking for. "I fucking knew it!"
"God damn it Toolshed!"
"Oh, don't give me that shit Kenny- fuck!"
"Dude!"
"Kenny?!" You're whirling, spiraling even.
Two of your closest friends standing in a dark alley with you, having saved you in said alley, were actually two of the most famous superheroes in the city. A city that needed a superhero group because the police couldn't be fucked to do anything about the crime rate. Running your fingers through your hair, you couldn't believe this.
"How was I supposed to know she would drop your name?" As you tune back into the conversation you hear Kenny's voice as he argues with Stan.
"I don't know! Why not just escort her back home?!" Stan is arguing back with a grown man thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Does he even weigh anything to him?
"I didn't want her to be alone tonight after what she went through!"
".... that makes sense, but still!"
"Guys!" You cut them off in a hushed whisper, you look back over your shoulder to make sure no one is watching. Their voices were picking up and if someone called the police now it would mean trouble. "Look can we talk about this later? Let's drop this guy off and...and head back to your place? Because you are right, I don't wanna be alone tonight."
Kenny and Stan exchange looks and then nod. You were right, they still had a job to do. So once the creep was dropped off on the stairs of the police station and their calling cards were dropped beside him, the three of you made your way back to their shared home. It was a lot easier to get around the city with Toolshed carrying you across the city buildings. Who would have thought zipwires made for such easy travel. That didn't stop you from clinging to him for dear life, even though his hold was firm and made you feel secure that deep seeded fear of falling was still there.
"Okay. So... first of all I've got to be the biggest idiot to not realize it was you the whole time Stan. Second if all, what the fuck guys?" You were now pacing back and forth in their living room; they hadn't even had time to change our of their superhero gear.
"There's a reason I work at night." Stan shrugged on the comment about his costume.
"It's a shame really, I keep telling you the public would love you." Kenny shoots him a smirk and runs his fingers through the fluffy black hair of his partner.
"Then who would keep you outta trouble?" Stan shoots back with his own playful smirk.
"No one! You're both in trouble right now! And really? Flirting right now?!" You couldn't believe these two, your frustration was boiling up to the surface. A combination of all this bullshit was starting to get to you, you were tense.
"Sweetheart, I don't know what you want us to tell you." Kenny's nickname for you rolling off his tongue casually. "Stan and I have been doing this for years now. We had to keep it a secret from you."
"What if you got hurt because of us? You would have stressed endlessly about this. We couldn't do that to you...not you." Stan's follows Kenny's lead in the conversation, his tone is so soft and gentle as he speaks.
The way they were are looking at you now, Kenny having removed his mask and Stan his glasses, made you calm down a little. Uncrossing your arms from your chest you let out a sigh and rubbed the back of your neck.
"I guess that explains why you guys go to bed so early. You guys are dicks."
The comment pulls a few chuckles from the guys. It's Stan who makes the first move towards you, taking your hand into his. He guides you closer towards them until you're standing between both men.
"Look, we're sorry we lied to you for so long. I know it doesn't make things better but you're one of the reasons we do what we do." His voice dips into a soft whisper near the end. The tone deepens as he gives your hand a little squeeze.
"He's right sweetheart. You're on our minds every time we put on the mask...or shades in Stan's case." Kenny leans forward taking your other hand in his as he speaks.
"Safety goggles."
"Whatever."
Your heart skips a beat at your two best friends saying the sweetest things like it was something so casual. The effect the men had on you made you blush and look away trying to hide it. But Kenny caught on, he always was the more observant of the two. A smirk tugged up on the corner of his lips as his hand slid from yours towards your hips again. The green gloves from his costume long discarded off to the side, now you could feel his calloused hand through your clothes.
"Angel. Is there something on your mind? You were so vocal a second ago. I thought Stan and I were in trouble?" Kenny's tone dips from that soft reassuring to a deep teasing one.
"You guys are! Don't think you're gonna smooth talk your way out of this one McCormick." You glare down at him, the blush creeping across your face towards your ears deepening into a darker red.
"Then say what's on your mind~. I think you're so cute when you're trying to stay mad."
Stan let's out a little chuckle at that, watching as your mouth falls open but nothing comes out. His own smirk comes up to his lips as he finally catches onto where Kenny is taking the conversation. Their secret identities were not the only thing the two men harbored. No, in fact their attraction and care for you went past a platonic level. The two shared many nights of talking about adding you into their relationship, the only thing really stopping them was the double lives they lived. But now that you knew, there was nothing really to hold them back.
"Kenny stop teasing her. She's pouting now. Our girls had a rough day, you can't blame her for getting mad." Stan brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a warm kiss into the stitched up wound on your palm.
His words echo in your mind. Our girl? All you could do is stand there dumbfounded, slowly blinking at them. There was no way you were reading too much into this, not this time. Sure, there were the times you caught Stan's eyes on you longer than they should have been, or the times Kenny would boldly flirt with you; showering you with compliments that were just tasteful enough. Or how their hugs would last a little longer each time and their hands would linger on your skin.
"Guys...I-I uh... I don't remember what I was going to say. Stop trying to distract me!" What was supposed to be a stern scolding turned into a small whine.
Kenny couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips, you were just too adorable. The pads of his thumb rubs circles against your hip, the digit slipping under the hem of your shirt.
"Oh, honey if we were trying to distract you, you'd know. In fact, why don't we show her Stan?" Kenny couldn't have emphasized the word trying harder, practically purring out the word.
"Best idea you've had all night babe." Stan's eyelids drop as he stands up from the cream-colored couch.
He does an amazing job distracting you with that lustful look in his eyes, circling around you slowly, you almost don't hear Kenny. "Tell us if you want us to stop at any point and we will Angel. You want us to stop?"
Stan hums in agreement, his hand still clasping yours. Your eyes bounce between both men as your mind scrambles to come up with an answer. "N-no. No I don't but uh... since when did you guys- I mean like is this just a one-time thing? I-I just wanna clear the room."
"Not if you don't want it to be." Stan's voice dipped into a husky whisper, his breath fanning the shell of your ear. "All cards on the table? We've thought about making you ours for years."
Your mouth falls open as a soft gasp spill from your lips again. Hearing that come from Stan of all people was a shock, you expected this from maybe Kenny, but Stan too? Without putting much thought into it, your hand came up to grip the collar of his hero outfit; pulling away from Kenny's grip to bring Stan towards you as you crashed your lips onto his.
His fingers intertwined with the one holding yours, changing the gentle hold into something much firmer. He brings your hand up to rest against his chest all the while his lips match the passion behind yours. The sound of your lips coming together and breaking apart for quick gasps of air had Kenny leaning forward resting his elbows on his knees. Kenny's tongue traced his lower lip watching you two in your heated battle. It wasn't until you felt Kenny tug you forward by your hips that you broke your kiss with Stan.
Kenny couldn't help but admire Stan's work, in just a few short moments he turned you into a flush panting mess. It was almost a shame he was about to do the same. While Stan's kisses were desperate, trying to take every ounce of you, Kenny's were slow and confident. It was like he knew exactly when to let you come up for air, only to bring you back down with soft gentle kisses to the corner of your mouth.
Now that you were pulled from Stan, he took the opportunity to take both your hands by the wrist. His face nuzzling down into the crook of your neck, continuing his assault on your soft skin. You could feel Kenny's smirk against your lips every time Stan pulled a soft gasp or whimper from you.
"Stan baby, move her to the couch. We gotta get this train rolling for my sake." Kenny finally lets out a growl, showing you just how much of an effect you were having on him.
You feel Stan's hands drop down to your waist and scoop you up with ease just like he did on the way here. The veins in his arms pulsed out as his muscles flexed under his skin.
Now that your hands were free you grabbed at the edges of the couch cushions, letting Stan lay you down on your back. He slots himself between your legs, pulling your knees up to rest on his hips; his tool belt thrown over the back of the couch.
"Fuck you're gorgeous. I gotta be real with you baby, when you beat the shit out of that creep I was so turned on." Kenny's voice has you looking back and up at him. Deft fingers finally pulling up your shirt, only to toss it somewhere on the living room floor.
"Kenny y-you can't say things like that" You whisper as you help Stan remove your pants.
"I can't? I can't tell you how both Stan and I were ready to rip that guy’s throat out for touching our girl?" He smirks down at you, his fingers tracing down your neck towards your bra strap where he slipped it down off your shoulders.
Quickly replacing his fingers with his lips, Kenny trailed a line of kisses up your neck making sure to leave marks where Stan hadn't. Meanwhile Stan worked his lips down the inside of your thighs, his head moving up and down the flesh to leave love bites. You couldn't stop yourself from moaning if you wanted to, their movements felt calculated. When one left a mark the other would leave another, it was driving you crazy.
"St-stop leaving so many marks! I-I don't have anything to hide those!"
"Good." Stan snickers as he leaves a rather sharp nip through your clothed clit. "How do we wanna do this Ken?"
"Kinda wanna watch you fuck her to be honest. That sound good to you sweetheart? Wanna let Stan fuck you?"
"O-oh fuck.... b-but what about you?" You tried to focus on Kenny but the metal jingling from Stan's belt made it hard.
"Oh, baby I was hoping you'd ask. Think you could let me use that pretty mouth of yours?" He asks, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips.
You didn't know how to verbally answer that without letting out a pathetic moan, so you press a kiss into his thumb and nod. His breath hitches and he smirks down at you.
"God damn you're perfect. Stan go ahead, I wanna hear her a little."
Stan slides his cock in between your already soaked folds, gliding the tip of his cock against your clit. The friction sends your back arching off the couch, your hips desperately trying to grind up against his to chase that pleasure. Kenny chuckles and his hand comes down to cup your exposed breasts. His larger hand digging into your flesh just enough where his fingers dip into your skin. Using just a little force he pushes you back down onto the couch, you don't even have time to protest when his fingers find your nipples, giving them a firm pinch.
"Ah~ none of that. Let us take care of you, you just sit back and relax." That bastard and his dumb smug smirk, if the way he looked at you with those beautiful purple eyes wasn't the most attractive thing you'd be fighting back.
But you couldn't. Not when Stan finally slipped his cock on your tight little hole. Not when fucking Toolshed let out the most delicious moan you think you've ever heard, one that mixed with yours so well. Stan's eyes find yours again, letting a moment pass giving you plenty of time to adjust before he starts a slow pace. From the way he pulled his cock along your walls, slipping out until only the tip remained, it was like he was trying to get your body to memorize every vein on his cock. Stan's hands come up to cup underneath your knees, guiding your leg up to his shoulder. The new angle is enough to have you seeing stars and your nails digging into their nice sofa.
"That's it, let it out. How is she baby? She feel good?"
"Fuck Kenny she- she's so good. So, fucking tight, it's like she's choking me." Stan has to catch his breath in between moaning, his breathing getting heavier, and his hips begin snapping forward in a much more consistent pace.
His partner didn't respond but from the way you watched the two men kiss you could tell he was pleased with the response. Kenny's tongue shoved into Stan's mouth intertwining in their own little battle. Stan's mouth lulling open to let out the softest whimpers.
"Fu-fuck don't clench like that I'm not gonna last!" Stan growls when your walls flutter around him, having to break the kiss so he could focus on slamming up into you.
"Not yet Stan, we gotta cum together. You're doing so good baby, just hold on." You couldn't tell if Kenny was praising you or Stan, or both of you, but either way it made you both moan.
You watched as his hands worked his own pants, shoving them down to his thighs as he let his cock free. Pre-cum already dripping down his shaft, which made the most lewd noises when he pumped his fist around his cock. He leans forward to trace the tip around your lips a few times, silently begging you to open your mouth wider. Which you're more than happy to comply, the poor man looked like he was about to burst; the hero suit obviously not helping from how tight it was. That doesn't stop him from teasing you a bit, slapping the underside of his shaft against your tongue a few times.
He waits. Waits until Stan's thrusts push you up against the couch before he finally shoves his cock in your mouth. You can tell from the way he holds the side of your face that he wants to be careful with you, Kenny tries so to hold himself back. To not slam back into your throat but he takes a deep breath and tightens his jaw.
You would roll your eyes if they weren't rolled back up into the back of your head. Who did he think he was dealing with? Flicking your tongue against his head, you heard him hiss and tense up. His strong thigh muscles flexing from just a little move of your tongue. Between that and the way you moaned around his cock, sending vibrations up into him, he snapped. He didn't have a lot of will going into this, not when you looked so beautiful marked up. Not when Stan looked so sexy as he tried to keep himself from climaxing.
Kenny rocks forward, pushing down your throat causing you to gag. His thrusts send your body back against Stan's who eagerly meets your body with his own. The back-and-forth sensation sent waves of pleasure making the knot in your stomach tighten. Kenny's head lulls back in bliss as your throat continues to work his cock, the warm walls of your throat felt so good. From the way his thrust begin to stutter and his breathing gets more ragged you knew he was getting closer to his own climax. Watching Stan fuck your brains out apparently did more for him than you thought.
"Kenny I-I can't- I need to cum." Stan lets out a loud moan next to your ear as he presses his forehead against yours.
"I know baby, but we gotta- oh fuck your mouth feels so good. We gotta ask first. Angel, you gonna let Stan cum in you? Let him fill you up yeah?" Kenny pulls his throbbing member for your mouth watching as you tried to catch your breath.
"Please!"
There it was your begging was exactly what Stan needed. The way your voice pitched in desperation for him, and Kenny made him feel like he was floating on cloud nine. The choked moan he lets out next to your ear makes your walls clench around him, your warm soft walls milking him for everything he could give. Stan doesn't have much time to enjoy the afterglow of his climax as Kenny's hand runs through his shaggy dark locks. You watch as Kenny yanks Stan's head back causing him to hiss and lulls his mouth open. A few sloppy thrusts into the man's throat and Kenny's climax follows. Stans lips wrapped around the base of his cock as Kenny shoots thick ropes of cum into his mouth spilling down onto your chest. The hot sticky white cream slipping between the valleys of your breasts.
"Aaaaand I can officially...check that off the bucket list." Kenny coos softly as he gently brushes back Stan's hair, cupping the side of his face.
Stan pulls back away from Kenny slowly and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before responding to his lover. "I'm almost afraid to ask."
"I've been wanting to fuck in the Mysterion outfit forever now! And I got to do it with you both?! I'm in heaven~" He helps Stan clean you up, carefully moving you up on the couch his tone so carefree.
You let out a happy little hum when they wrap you up in the softest blanket you think you've ever felt on your skin. Their hands begin to work on messaging out any kinks you might have from the position they had you in, how they weren't as exhausted as you were was shocking. You lay your head on Stan's shoulder and your legs up on Kenny's lap, your eyelids getting heavier by the second as you listened to the two talk for a while.
"I think our girl's asleep."
"Let her sleep, she's had one hell of a day."
".... Hey do you think she has work tomorrow?"
"Her boss can shove it, she's gonna take a sick day."
".... Can we take a sick day?"
"Hell yeah!"
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chouxsardine · 2 months
Text
Hold Me (1)--- Jake Kiszka x reader
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My fic for @seenoversundown 's Valentine's Day Writing Event! I choose the prompt: Play Truth or Dare
Summary: "hold me like you hold your Les Paul, have your way with me the way you play her.” || Your drunk slip-up leads to one of the best Valentine's Day gift you've ever got
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader
Word Count: 3547
Warnings (for this part): 18+! Minors DNI, sexual implications, cursing, alcohol, dom Jake/sub reader, guitar kink, bondage, scissors, inappropriate use of guitar strap, pickle slander
Author's note: Remember I said here about a series of improper guitar use fantasy? Well, here's another one! This idea has been circling in my mind for the longest time. Happy Valentine's Day, Enjoy!
🎧: Dirty Little Religion by Warren Zevon
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“Come on, y/n, you have to play by the rules. That’s only fair.”
“Oh gosh, please don’t,” you groaned, banging your forehead on the table, regretting every possible decision you have made in the last two hours.
It was a Friday night, Jake and you were throwing your very own drinking party at home. It started out with some innocent cocktails but has somehow soon turned into chugging down straight tequila. To add to the fun, you proposed an impromptu and very informal round Truth or Dare, which, looking back now, was a very bad idea. Yes, your original intention was to fish out some funny anecdotes from Jake, but woe is you—how the tables have turned. Now, you were the one facing the difficult choice between spilling your dirtiest fantasy or drinking a shot of pickle juice.
That dare was definitely devilish, and Jake was setting it up for you to fail. He knew you absolutely can’t stand pickle juice, especially when it’s that bottom-of-the-jar “essence”— evilly green and murky with all the loosened pulp and seeds floating around. Simply one look at it made you sick.
“Pick your poison, darling,” Jake said, making no effort to hide his smirk.
You tentatively reached for the shot glass but immediately gave in as its smell reached your nose. Why trouble yourself? You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t an arousing tingle inside. Simply the way Jake said the word ‘fantasy’ sounds sexy. Talking about the chokehold this man has on you. It was clear that you were fighting a losing battle. To choose something so ghastly over a little spice in the uncharted territory is just straight-up stupid. Plus, you may or may not have had a bit too much to drink. You felt positive that one simple sip of that pickle juice would make you throw up before the alcohol does.
Sensing the silence, Jake’s demeanour changed. He was more than tipsy, yes, but not to the point that it stops him from being attentive to your feelings and reactions. It was a cute, hot little thing he came up with on the spur of the moment that he thought would be fun. It wasn’t meant to put you on the spot. To make you uncomfortable and ruining the moment is the last thing he wanted.
“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t have—”
“I’ve always—”
You opened your mouth simultaneously.
Jake took one look at you and shut up immediately. Your cheeks are flushed, your half-lidded eyes were fixed on him with a familiar look. Your left knee that was previously stretched out was now bent against your chest. Oh.
“Go on.” He whispered.
Fuck it.
“I’ve always felt jealous of your guitar, you know that? Especially when you are away on tour. The way you play it on stage, making all those girls scream for you…And that one time you fucking kissed it to make the vibration like that?” You let out a humourless laugh as your eyes narrowed, “it drives me mad.” The way you accentuate “mad” blurs its meaning, and it makes Jake wonder.
“Mad, huh? Which kind? Mad as in crazy, or mad as in angry?”
The drinking game long forgotten now that it has changed into your worship of Jake. You ignored his question completely as you continue. The words coming out much easier and at a faster pace.
“Or the way you slap it, the way you hold its neck and rock it,” all the images and videos you’ve seen are alive in your mind, overlaying with the sight of Jake right before your eyes, “the way you make her whine and scream.”
Jake’s heart skips a bit at the change of pronoun.
“Did you ever get hard while doing that?” You set down the glass on the table, got down on your hands and knees, crawling towards Jake until you were by his feet. “I bet you did. How can you not?” Jake beckoned and you straddled his lap in one swift motion, holding his face. Your eyes were glassy, your pupils dilated. “That’s when I get so jealous and….and insecure.” Jake frowned at that last word. He never thought of that.
“That’s when I wish I was there, waiting for you backstage. I want to kiss you and tell you how amazing you look up there because you deserve it,” with that, you studied Jake’s face intensely through your droopy eyes before defeatedly dropping your head onto his shoulder, your words muffled and slurred,“hell, you have no idea what I want to do to you.”
“I will if you tell me,” Jake tempted.
You pulled back, staring down at him. You caressed his cheek, your fanned breath tickling the loose strands of hair that frame his face. To Jake, you feel like a warm dessert soaked in bourbon; you looked…delicious. It was the same kind of primal desire that shares the same origin with hunger, the wild biological needs fuming. All your shame and self-consciousness unraveled by the alcohol, coming off like a corset with its ribbons pulled.
“I want you to tie me up with your guitar strap,” your eyes closed at how good it felt finally having those words freed from your mind, “I want you to hold me like you hold your Les Paul, have your way with me the way you play her.”
Jake’s jaw hung open. Damn, alcohol does makes people open up. He was not expecting you to say that and was also not expecting himself finding it so incredibly hot. Practically, whiskey dick, but mentally, he was so hard. Before he could come up with a decent response, your head dropped down again, this time with a heavier thud, and he could feel your breathing change.
“Y/n?”
No response.
He was so glad you finished that last sentence before passing out.
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That was some weeks ago and you only had vague memories of the night. You knew that you must have spilled some crazy shit because since then, on several occasions, you have caught Jake staring at you. Well, it’s not like he can keep his eyes off you very often, but you can tell this is different. He would have his thumb and index fingers rubbing his chin, looking deep in thought as if composing a riff, except that his eyes are on you, and there is a predatory smugness that keeps you at your feet.
“For fucks sake, Jake. You’re doing it again! Why are you glaring at me like that?” You have tried fishing it out of him more than once.
“Secret” and a wry smile were the answers you got every time.
Luckily, he didn’t keep you waiting for too long; it was only a few days later when you finally get to find out about it.
Neither Jake nor you are the type of people who would go overboard on Valentine’s Day. In the past, it has always been a cute dinner date followed by a night that is both sweet and spicy. You could tell Jake is up to something this time. He’s been dropping subtle (or so he thought) hints throughout the day.
Evening was fast approaching. You opted for staying in and cooking. Jake made an amazing chicken piccata. (He even used heart-shaped pasta!) Dinner was quick and delicious, Warren Zevon’s record was playing in the background as you did the dishes. A pair of arms wraps around your waist as you turn off the faucet. Jake’s curls tickle your skin. He is humming to the song, and it takes you a second to realize that he was humming along with the record to the lyrics of Dirty Little Religion.
“I have a gift for you, sweetheart.”
You playfully rolled your eyes, as if his intentions couldn’t be clearer. But who says you aren’t equally (or perhaps more) excited?
“Oh love, you’ve been so good to me all day, how could I ask more from you?” You sound innocent, as if completely unaware of the implications.
“M’not asking. I’m offering. My good girl deserves all my loving.” Jake replies slyly.
Jake calling you good girl will always make you knees go weak. You turn around in his embrace and willingly accept his affectionate kiss on the lips before pulling open the dishwasher. ‘Fine. I’ll just finish up here real quick, okay?”
“Of course, and when you do, come downstairs and find me.”
You quirk your eyebrows. “Downstairs, huh?” It looks like he does has some ideas.
“And you better hurry up, sugar.” He gives you a teasing smack on the butt before turning on his heels.
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Downstairs means his studio. Your steps are a bit wobbly as you reach the bottom of the stairs and your fingers shiver as they come into contact with the cool metal of the doorknob. Calm down, y/n, you could be getting all riled up over nothing; knowing that couldn’t be further from the truth, your attempt to calm down sounds pathetic. Throughout your relationship with Jake, the last thing this man ever did was disappoint. And if your nose serves you right, you detect a faint smell of magnolia in the air—the scent that was only reserved for certain occasions. God, what has Jake been planning?
On a second thought, you retrieve your hand from the doorknob, choosing to gently knock three times. A gut feeling tells me that the man of the other side of the door would prefer some manners tonight.
“Come in.”
You push the door open. The room is warm and well-lit, looking the same as usual. Jake is sitting in his Corbusier-style leather chair in the corner, fingers steepling together.
“Hmmmm, a girl with courtesy I see. Very well.” Jake commends.
Bingo. You smile coyly. Your praise kink almost made you curtsy to him.
“Already so good, perhaps I have to find something else to reward you with on top of your gift,” Jake says thoughtfully as he approaches you and pulls you in for a kiss, “but first, my princess deserves to live out her fantasy.”
Fantasy? The way Jake says it gives the word a familiar twang that triggers something in your brain. Your mind is racing as it flips through memories from the past few weeks. Looking around you, most of Jake’s guitars are hanging on the wall instead of resting on the stand. A rather odd thing for him to do. And every guitar on the wall has the strap attached, hanging below them and casting snake-like shadows on the wall.
Then it kicks in. Memories of that Truth or Dare night rushes back to you. Your drunken words replay themselves in your mind, clear and loud: “I want you to tie me up with your guitar strap.”
“Oh, Jake, you didn’t—” Your hands fly up to cover your face in embarrassment.
“Oh, but I do,” Jake laughs, taking your hands in his and thumbing them in soothing circles, “no need to be shy, love. There’s nothing shameful about having desires; it’s a very human thing to do.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. I’m so happy that you feel comfortable enough to share it with me,” Jake smile reassuringly, “and I find it hot beyond words.”
Your eyes shot up at him upon hearing it, and Jake’s gaze tells you that he is being honest. Seeing that you’ve relaxed, Jake leads you to stand right in front of his guitar display, his hands resting steadily on your shoulders.
“I’ll let you take your pick, doll. Whichever one that has the honour to have caught your eyes.”
You take a deep breath, feeling like a child in a candy store. This is not the time to get overwhelmed. Your eyes first travel greedily between the guitars, linger over their smooth curves, then you divert to the straps. Jake’s signature ’61 Les Paul SG is standing tall and proud in the middle, paired with the most often seen thin leather strap in back. Moving further right is his SG Classic with the Pinegrove brown padded strap from earlier days, and there’s the black one with the broader shoulder pad which was once used to hold a double-neck but now used on his Coodercaster. You picture them laying over Jake’s shoulder, the way they strain and slacken with his movement, the umbilical cord between his body and his creation. You also imagine the what they would look and feel when wrapped around your waist. The slightly nervous you is inching towards the brown strap—it looks so comforting with its suede texture and its wrinkled surface, and its also wider, therefore leaning towards a cuff rather than a rope when tied; however, the bolder voice obviously prefers the black one—classy, timeless, direct and succinct like a command. It’s thinner, so it might cut into your skin if you are squirming too much (which you definitely will), but isn’t that what you are after? Isn’t that the gist—pleasure mixed with pain?
Jake is being unexpectedly patient, giving you all the time you need to take it in as he resumes his previous position in the chair, admiring your predicament from afar.
“I want that one.” You blurt out finally, pointing at his black strap.
The look on Jake’s face made you suspect that he has known what you’d choose all along.
“Nice choice.” Jake comments, stepping forward to remove the strap from the guitar. You know it’s most likely in your head, but the strap looks different the second that it was detached from the instrument; now wrapped around Jake’s palm, it looks more powerful, it looks like it is determined to serve its intended purpose well for tonight.
“Now go upstairs.”
This time, the command is brusque.
Oh, so the studio is not the final destination. You feel like being on a scavenger’s hunt, following all the clues and getting more snd more excited and impatient by the second. You can’t tell if you are disappointed or relieved that you are not doing…well, whatever Jake intends to do with you…in his studio.
You hands are already touching the door when you heard him again:
“While you are up there, princess, do yourself a favour and strip down to your bra and panties.”
You gasp, but chose not to turn around.
“Yes,” you murmur just loudly enough for him to hear you, “Sir.”
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Upstair in your shared bedroom, you do not know how to position your body. You are naked except for your underwear, but the room still seems too hot. You tried laying in bed in a sultry pose—too pretentious, for fuck’s sake, you’ re not shooting porn. You sat down but you kept hugging your knees to yourself—you don’t want Jake to mistake that as reluctance. You are just a bit jittery. God knows how long you’ve been fantasizing this. You tried sitting on the ottoman, but the leather kept sticking to your bum, and it wouldn’t take long before you start sweating and leaving a shame-filled imprint on the seat. You’ve always wanted this, and it’s Jake, there’s nothing to be nervous about, just do what feels best.
Alright, alright.
Following the voice in your heart, you find yourself dropping down to your knees, kneeling on the plush beige rug by the bed. You have your back against the bedroom door. You know it would be impossible for you not to look at Jake’s reaction the moment he see you in this pose, but you are also not sure if you are ready to take that reaction. To you, for now, kneeling feels the most right. For you and Jake, the dom/sub thing in bed is never explicit. Sure, he enjoys you calling him Daddy from time to time and you definitely have got him all whiny and teary for more than once, but this would be the first time that you will be trying restraints. You guess you have always had this fantasy—there’s just something about Jake and his guitar that makes your knees buckle. You are secretly thankful for your drunk slip-up, because you are not sure if you will have the courage to stare into his eyes and say those words sober, even though you know that Jake would never judge you.
The sound of the door opening interrupts your thought. The room is so quiet that you can hear a pin drop, and you are holding your breath. Therefore, even without looking, you are positive that Jake hitches his breath when he sees you. You regret a little for facing away from him. Now you want to see his expression.
“Don’t move.” As if reading your mind, Jake orders. You straighten your back. Jake approaches until he is standing right behind you.
“What a good girl.”
Something touches you. You quickly realize Jake is using the bended strap to trace random patterns on your back. You feel the looped end of the strap at your cervical spine before it circles around your scapula, from where it travels down along your spine all the way to your hipbone, dipping a little into the elastic band of your panties. Jake watches the involuntary contraction of your muscles as they react to the touch, feeling satisfied as he sees the fine hairs on the back of your neck slightly perk up.
You just breathed a sigh of relief when you feel the smooth leather again, this time reaching in front and tracing your clavicle. It stops at the little indentation between the bones, right beneath your throat and inches upwards to your chin, tilt it upward, then finding leverage on the left side of your jaw, Using it to turn your head back.
You run straightforward into Jake’s eyes, which are now the colour of melted chocolate. The dark, mesmerizing, 80% cocoa type.
Your pouty lips and puppy eyes are silently begging him for a kiss. Jake indulges, catching your bottom lip between his teeth slightly as his pulls away.
“Already tasting so sweet, angel.”
Aside from the praise, the tenderness in his tone is unvarnished. This is the voice he uses whenever he checks up on you. This is a sign that you are about to have the talk—the sweet conversation with a fraction of awkwardness before you two try out anything new that gives consent and sets up rules and boundaries.
“I…I really want this.” You pre-empt.
“That’s good to hear,” Jake chuckles. Now he has came around, sitting face to face with you. What looks like a wash bag laying beside his knees. What? He has gone and got a bag for this? You wonder what the hell he has got in there.
“I know it’s been a minute, but do you still remember our safe word?”
“Yes. It’s ‘soundcheck’.” You answer, peeling your eyes away from the bag. The safe word was something you two has settled early on in your relationship. Neither of you has been in a position that requires the use of it, but the simple fact that such a word exists and you are comfortable using it when the situations calls for is reassurance for both sides.
“Good. Use it if you need to. Since we are trying something new today, I suggest we add on to it a bit more,” Jake holds your gaze steadily as you nod, “we are going with colours. Green means all good and continue; yellow means pause, say it if you feel like it’s too much, we will take a break, check in, work things out, and you decide if you want to keep going; red is the big ‘no-no’, say it and everything, I mean everything, stops immediately, no question asked. Copy?”
“Yes, green to go, yellow to pause, and red to stop.” You repeat it back, knowing Jake always requires a clear response at this point. This is starting to sound like those naughty romance novels, although you have a secret feeling that what you’re about to experience is going to be so much better.
“Clever girl,” Jake unzips the bag and takes out a pair of scissors, showing them to you, “these are safety shears. I feel like they’re necessary if I am tying you up today. They are medical grade and they cut through everything. Whatever the reason you need out of the restraints, they get you the quick release. ”
He places the scissors in your hands. You hold on to it, finding its curved blade and matte handle consoling. “Now listen up, if it comes to that,” Jake speaks slowly, his index finger tapping your naked skin with each accentuated word, “I will cut the strap. I don’t care how long I’ve had it or how much it costs. They are nothing compared to your safety. Do you hear me, love?”
“Yes. Yes, I understand.” You heart melts at how serious he is taking this. You knew he must’ve done his research. The colour system and all. “Thank you, Jake.”
“No need to thank me for keeping you safe, doll,” Jake squeezes your hand gently, “now, are we ready?”
Part 2 out now
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Yeah! you made it! Thank you SO MUCH for reading :))
any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated. I've never done a taglist before....does anyone want to be tagged for part 2?
my other works: Permission to Fall | Mariner's Complex | Ticked (all my boxes) | Love is a four-legged word | The Lucky Ones | Coming back to me | Warm Honey | He Would
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