#tw.alcohol

[nymphoheretic]

˜”°•.˜”°• Drink up, Princess •°”˜.•°”˜

Synopsis: Eren wanted to take all of your firsts. So, when he learns that you've never had a drink before, he sets a plan in motion.

Warnings: Dubcon, alcohol consumption, Virgin Killer Eren, "Princess" and "Angel" nicknames, fingering, oral (fem receiving) unprotected sex, creampie, praise, light degradation

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: @tokyometronetwork @cpidsworld @babiefwuit @bakugosbratx @awilddreamermain @alucrds @sailewhoremoon @bookandyarndragon @noriken @stygianoir

When Eren heard that you’ve never drank before, those words went straight to his cock. His cute little girlfriend was even more innocent than what he first thought. He wanted to take each and everyone one of your firsts. So, he eagerly agreed to have your first drink with you. He brought you to his place, where he had set up a small bar to make you some mixed drinks. Some with heavy liquor, others with lighter alcohols.

“C’mon, babe.” He coo’d at you, rubbing at your shoulders as he set the drink down in front of you that he had carefully mixed for you. “Take a sip. I made it special for you.” He was eager for you to get drunk for the first time with him. Maybe a little alcohol is what you needed to finally spread those thighs for him and let him taste that virgin cunt of yours.

You looked at the red solo cup your boyfriend set down in front of you, the sweet aroma of the juice he mixed in masking the heavy scent of the booze. Biting your lip, you turned to say, “I don’t know about this Eren. I’ve never done this before.”

A sigh left him as he grabbed the cup. “Here, let me help you.” He took a slow drink from the cup, the sweetness of the juice sliding over his tongue as well as the bitter taste of all the alcohol he mixed in with it.

Taking your chin gently in his, Eren pressed his lips against yours. Holding the liquid in his mouth, he used his tongue to part your lips. Slowly, he fed you the contents of his mouth, the alcohol sliding down your throat and warming your belly.

A tiny trickle of the amber liquid dripped down the corner of your mouth and fell down your cleavage, rolling in between your breasts to pool there.

You felt fuzzy; from Eren’s kiss or the drink he was feeding you, you weren’t sure. But you wanted more. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you drank more eagerly from his lips.

“More...” you whined softly when the liquid stopped flowing. Craving more of the sweetness of Eren, you reached for the cup to try to tip it back to his mouth.

He chuckled. You were so cute. So innocent. Eren wanted to ruin your innocence. Tipping more of the drink into his mouth, he fed it to you, watching as your eyes glazed over from the potency of the many types of alcohol he poured into the cup. It was so adorable of how much of a lightweight you were, it would make spreading your legs so much easier for him.

Eren rubbed his thumbs over your thighs softly as the alcohol made your body pliant to his touches. Once you had drunk every last drop with his help, he pulled you into his lap. “How was it?”

“Ish gud.” You slurred, “Ereh, moar pleash.”

God.

Each drunken slur you spoke made his cock throb even more in his pants and he could not wait to be buried so deep into the sweet pussy. He would take his time and fuck you slow. You were his innocent little virgin. His to claim; his to ruin; only his.

Eren pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on the curve of your ass. “Drink up, Princess.” He took one more drink from the cup before pressing his lips against yours in another sloppy kiss.

You drunk greedily from his lips, swallowing the alcohol, your head spinning as a warmth settled in your belly. You let out a moan when Eren’s hands began to massage the fat of your ass with his large hands.

It felt so good and your body was weightless. “Ereh...” You sighed as your tongue sought out more of the drink, licking every last drop from his mouth.

Eren smiled when you gave no resistance as he worked his tongue into your mouth, his hands squeezing your ass more firmly. Tonight, you were going to be his. “Angel...” he purred against your ear as his lips caressed yours in another tender kiss. “Do you want more? I can make you feel so much better.”

In your fuzzy, drunken mind, anything that could feel good was okay with you. Eagerly, you nodded your head. “Yesh, wan’ feel gud!”

-0-0-0

You squirmed as Eren eased two fingers in and out of your sluggish body, the slick, lewd sounds echoing through his bedroom. Fingers twisted in the bed sheets as his curled then within you, rubbing against that one sticky one that made you feel things you’ve never felt before. “Eren...” you sobered up a bit as your back arched off the bed.

Eren sped up the pace of his fingers, loving the feeling of your juices coating his palm as he grinded it against your clit. “Sh, pretty. I’ll make you feel good in a moment.” His face lined up with your core, taking a moment to admire how you were gushing for him.

Pussy so juicy and all for him. His tongue slipped out and licked a long, wet stripe from the top of his thrusting fingers to the sensitive little bud. He teased the hood of your clit with the tip of his tongue until it revealed the cute little nerve.

He was addicted to your sweet taste with just one lick. Quickly, Eren replaced his fingers with his tongue seeking more of your essence. You were so sweet, your pussy so juicy and creamy that he could spend hours feasting down on you.

If all it took was a drink to get you to spread these thighs and let him sample your sweet cunt, then Eren would have done this sooner.

Moans and whimpers left your throat as that heat in your belly grew tighter and tighter until it snapped. You let out a loud cry as your orgasm shook through your body, and Eren eagerly caught every drop on his greedy tongue. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath. That felt amazing. “Eren, that felt good...” You sighed out.

Eren smiled down at you as he sat up on his knees and reached for the waistband of his sweats. “Yeah? Think you can make me feel good now?” He tugged his pants down, his thick cock springing out and the wet, leaky tip thumped against his abs.

“I wanna be inside you so badly, princess?” His words were like honey to your intoxicated mind. “Can I, angel?” Eren did not wait for your reply as he lined the tip up with your soaked entrance.

The first stretch burned as Eren pushed his thick cockhead inside. A groan left him as your needy little pussy took in every inch he had to offer and he nearly spilled his seed right then and there. You were so tight, so perfect around his dick. It made him a little sad that you were keeping all this delicious pussy from him.

“You were so selfish, princess. Not letting me feel this good while deep inside this slutty cunt.” Eren cooed as the tip of his cock reached that slight resistance of your purity.

Licking his lips, Eren pushed forward as he bottomed out inside your drooling hole, shuddering as he fought the urge to shoot his load deep into your body. He fucked your sloppy hole, juices coating his cock with each thrust of his hips.

He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to hold out. In your fucked out, drunken stupor, your nails found his back as you clenched even tighter around him; your pussy leaving a ring of cream around the base of his cock.

Eren growled low and deep in his chest as he felt his balls tightened, letting him know that he was going to reach his high soon. Pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips, his hips moved even faster as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the bedroom.

“C’mon, angel. Give it to me. Cum on my cock so I know that I’m making you feel good.” His head dropped into the spot where your neck and shoulder met and his sucked his mark into your skin as he continued to thrust deeply inside, the thick tip kissing your cervix.

Eren let out another groan as your nails dug into his back as you arched off the bed, your juices drenching his cock. "Finally," he thought as your pussy released your cum. His hips began to stutter as he emptied his hot, sticky seed deep within you, painting your walls white.

His hips never stopped moving as he fucks his cum deeper into your pliant body. Eren couldn't stop. Now that he's finally had a taste of your virgin body, he wanted to fuck you until your belly was swollen, full of his seed. You were so addicting to him. "I love you, so fuckin' much." He growled into your ear. "You're fucking mine forever, got it?"

You nod dumbly. "Only yours, Eren..."

©️2022 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform.

#nymphomanic♡ #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren smut #eren x reader #snk #snk smut #snk x y/n #aot smut #eren jeager #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager x y/n #tw.dubcon #tw.unprotected sex #tw.alcohol

[woahjo]

hmm maybe making out w/ armin after a tequila shot? i wanna see him lick the salt off his hand 😭

YAY thank u for sending something <33 and ooohhh jesus what an image.... yeah that's good.

cw: alcohol, dubcon (they're both drunk), this is kinda sweet idk

there's something going on with armin. between you and him. you're not sure when things changed, but they did, and now you find that you're unable to revert back to the way things used to be. there's tension, too thick to cut, that has swelled beneath every interaction you've had for the past few weeks.

your friend group hangs out a lot. eren likes to dance and armin likes the company of hosting. tonight, everyone's gathered at armin and eren's place. you, armin, eren, mikasa, connie, jean, sasha, even reiner made it out to see you all for a few minutes. there's an excited social air about the group, charged with some sort of anticipation that you feel every time one of them approaches you.

the music playing in the apartment is loud and sasha has just bounced off with mikasa in tow to find eren in the living room where he's sitting eating leftovers from yesterday next to the speaker. you're alone at the kitchen counter, sitting in that moment just before your loneliness becomes awkward.

"hey," armin comes up next to you, a haphazard smile plastered across his face, "take a shot with me."

you make a face. "what kind?"

armin's lips curl up in a smile. it's the kind of grin that makes him look mischievous. he wears it a lot when he drinks.

"tequila," he says, laughing to himself.

when armin drinks, he gets bubbly. the positive part of him comes out in droves and he seems to have less reservation about wearing his heart and affection on his sleeve. it's infectious and you find it hard to say no to him, harder now with the way he's looking at you though blonde lashes. plus, you like being alone with him. you always have, but lately it's been so charged that you can't help but be enthralled when it happens.

his cheeks are flushed a light tone of pink and the color drags across to the tip of his nose. you imagine that his face is warm, the way yours might be after the drinks you've had, and you feel that syrupy tension creep back into the interaction as you think of it.

you sigh, taking the bottle of shitty tequila from the counter and filling two empty shot glasses with it. you're giving him an exasperated look while you do it, like he's just begged you for hours to do something and you finally gave in.

armin tilts his head down and gives you a smile so uncharacteristically sleezy that it could drag across the floor. it's still charming though. his mess of blonde hair, strands stuck to his forehead, and the sweet countenance he has about him makes sure of that.

"you're so easy to please," you laugh as you slide armin's shot towards him.

he eyes it for a moment before grabbing a salt shaker from the wet counter top, not seeming to care about the mess he'll have to clean tomorrow from the house party. you watch as he smiles lopsidedly at you and then licks the space on the back of his hand between his thumb and wrist, sprinkling the salt over it. you copy his movements, holding out your fist with an eye roll as he loosely shakes the salt over it.

there are some precut lime slices on the counter, likely from someone else doing the same thing before the two of you, and the tequila is so shitty that it needs whatever help it can get. it's like gasoline, but you're young and broke and tequila is tequila. it works towards the same purpose.

then, armin smiles again at you and raises his eyebrows excitedly.

"ready? go."

you watch, a bit mesmerized as he lifts his wrist up to his lips and licks the salt from it, dragging his tongue against the soft skin of his hand before bringing his shot glass to his mouth and tilting his head back. his blonde hair moves with it, shifting backwards and momentarily exposing his forehead. you follow suit almost immediately after, watching him over the apples of your cheeks.

you're vaguely aware of the fact that he's also watching you, but armin's presence is so comfortable—so desired—that you don't particularly feel observed in any intrusive way.

the shot burns going down. yeah, it's gasoline and you put the lime in your mouth and bite down with furrowed eyebrows. you make a face and armin laughs at you in a way fitting of his friendly manner. so effortlessly charming, so sweet. he follows suit, raising the sour fruit to his mouth and biting down, still wearing that silly little grin.

you smile and armin mirrors it, coughing lightly before settling with the taste. you're alone and the air is so charged that you feel it on your skin. armin takes a step forward and your skin prickles delightfully. it feels so effortless to you, something that exists between you two that makes the flirting easy.

you don't have to wonder if he's going to kiss you. you know he is. armin is shy, but he's been drinking, and weeks have gone by now inching closer and closer to this. people say that you shouldn't hook up with your friends, let alone one of your best friends, but when it's this easy and with someone as sweet as armin, it's hard not to ignore that advice.

he leans in a little, reaching up to touch the side of your face. then, he furrows his eyebrows as if to double check that you're really doing this. when you don't pull back, he puts his lips to yours and you immediately reach up to touch his face.

you pull him closer, inhaling and pressing your body against his and snaking your hand into his tufts of blonde hair. your mouth parts to let him in and you feel his tongue snake across yours. he tastes like lime and the aftertaste of tequila, and something else, something slightly sweet and human that you attribute to his breath.

armin's free hand comes to rest on your hip, tugging you lightly into him. you feel the way his face heats when he does, warming like he's blushing and something in your lower stomach pulses with need. every confident action, every swipe of his tongue, is followed by something bashful. an equal and opposite reaction that leaves you endeared and hungry.

you gasp a little when he knocks your body lightly against his.

"sorry," he breathes against your mouth, not pausing in his movements as he chases you. he sounds breathless and needy, but also genuinely apologetic for his eagerness. you give into him further to quell the anxiety.

you're not sure how long you spend like that, pushed flush up against each other's body. armin's hand roams up the underside of your shirt, his fingertips grazing your warm belly while you snake yours under his to touch his bare back. you only separate when you hear someone clamoring up from the couch and making their way to the kitchen.

the two of you separate quickly and you swipe your bottom lip with your thumb as if that would hide the swollen look of your mouth. armin adjusts his shirt and clears his throat as jean rounds the corner.

he looks between the two of you, standing an awkward foot away from each other before he scoffs lightly.

"sorry to interrupt," he says with a whistle and armin lights up like a switchboard, his ears turning red.

he let's his head fall when jean leaves, leaning against the countertop and looking back up at you with an embarrassed, sweet smile.

#cal care package #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #aot x reader #send me drabble requests or thirsts <333 if y'all want!! #tw.dubcon #tw.alcohol #cal.writing #char.armin

[maliciouslove]

ℍ𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕪 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕡

✧ pairing: fuckboy smileball barista!denki x reader  ✧ summary: having a slimebucks apron is equal to having unlimited rizz (source: me) and denki proves it by bedding his brand new colleague on her very first day of work.  ✧ word count: 5.5k ✧ tags: dubcon(?), manipulation(?), weed and alcohol use, oral (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, forced orgasm, pussyjob, unprotected sex, pulling out, size difference (denki is Tall and Lanky TM), unappropriate work relationship, scummy denki, no feelings.

✧ my submission for the @bastardblvd Slimeball collab ✧

✧ AN: happy birthday to my little slimy fuckboy denks <3 this was so fun to work on, genuinely love being a grimetown resident now. the fanart is made by me but i'm no pro so.. be kind please. :D it was written in a daze so if you see discrepancies.. look away. based on my own tiny starbucks where i work (i am slimebucks denki incarnate). you may expect of me to make this a slimebucks series.. katsuki or touya next? ;)

Denki doesn’t like morning shifts — he doesn’t like how grumpy people are first thing in the morning because it makes scoring dates much harder for him. No matter how bubbly and pleasant he is, Monday mornings are just a bad time to flirt with clients. Most customers don’t even spare a glance at him, too busy figuring out their schedule for the day and burying their noses in their phones. He does, however, enjoy the morning business attire — stockings, pencil skirts, white shirts that allow him to see the outline of a bra underneath… and those heels. Something about office fashion always getshim riled up. 

Typically, if he couldn’t strike up a conversation with the morning customers he would settle for watching them, eyes trailing down their crossed legs when they sit down to enjoy their coffee. He would follow their elegant movements and the curves of their bodies — from the corners of their painted lips turning upward in delight after a sip of hot coffee, to their dainty ankles decorated by the ankle strap of their heels swinging to the rhythm of the music playing softly on the speakers.

That is how his Mondays usually go, yet today he couldn't even enjoy that, all because of a new recruit.

His manager Katsuki (that angry bastard) had not even mentioned to them that he was hiring; he announced only yesterday that there would be a new trainee, pushing the responsibility of showing them around the store and kicking off their barista training onto him. Of course he wouldn’t ask Touya to train them — he would end up with his cock in his hand less than ten minutes into the start of his shift due to his “side hustle” schedule conflict, which in turn would scare off any new hire… and then the hiring process would have to start all over again. Katsuki himself is not much better off as barista trainer, his constant irritation and habit of screaming at everyone and everything has made many employees quit (and cry) early on, but the reason he was shoving the responsibility onto Denki was simply that he wouldn’t be in the store due to a manager’s meeting in Tokyo.

Bummer. 

According to the clock on the wall, the new hire should be coming in any time now, so Denki settles for focusing his attention and efforts on that instead of his grumpy morning customers. And then, there you were in your yellow raincoat, all sunshine and smiles from the moment you step inside the store. Denki gives you a once over and decides maybe this Monday morning wouldn’t be so awful after all — you were cute and far too innocent and optimistic looking for him not to take advantage and have a little… fun. 

His plan begins to form before you’ve even laid eyes on him.

“Hi! You must be the new addition to our team, pleasure to meet you!” The blonde extends a hand to greet you, his most charming smile plastered on his face. “Our team is a bit of a sausage party right now, so I hope you can bear with us and not get discouraged. We desperately need someone like you on our team.” 

“Oh I can tell, your merch cabinets look very… dry. You fellas are not big on decorating, are you?” Your heartfelt laugh nearly disarms the blonde man as he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, admitting that the three men working there did not have the best sesne of aesthetics and beauty. 

Oh, you were just his type — confident, energetic, and just a bit too kind and trusting. 

“Well, you’re here to save us, right? How about we get started on your training, get the boring part over with so we can get to know each other better.” 

There was not a single pure intention behind his words, but his face remains the picture of innocence and kindness. He’s had time to practice this look after all — can’t let people find out what’s behind the sunshine facade now, can he?

“Oh well training shouldn’t take long, I worked at a different Slimebuckslocation before moving to this part of town, hence why I’m being transferred here. I can get around drink making just fine, so you can just show me around the store I guess?” You bat your eyelashes at him and Denki thinks of you as a pure miracle. This expedites the timeline he had in mind.

With a pep in his step, he shows you around the store and back of house, informing you where they keep extra syrups and toppings at the front and the storage in the back. He hands you a new apron and name tag while informing you of the usual cleaning routine and covering all the basics that you need to get around the new store on your own. Not that he follows these cleaning routines that closely anyhow, but hey, you were here to pick up the slack now.

“So, think you got everything? Any questions?” Denki leans back against the bar on his elbows, long black painted fingers interlocking in front of his torso. He’s laid back and so pretty it’s almost distracting. A regular person has to exert effort not to stare too long at his honey colored eyes that crinkle when he smiles.

However, you cannot get too distracted — you must remain focused and make a good impression today. 

“Yes, can I please rearrange and restock your merchandise cabinets? They do not spark joy and desire to buy in their current state. No offense.” 

“Have at it.” Denki does not break eye contact, not once — feline eyes following your every move, gears turning in his head and schemes hatching in his pretty little head. 

He doesn’t want to seem too overbearing, but he also doesn’t want you to think he isn’t interested. So, as it is pretty quiet in the store right now, he decides to give you a hand with the merchandise, chatting with you — learning about you. After all, the only times he actually puts effort into his minimum wage job arewhen there is a prospect of a cute girl removing her panties for him. 

“So, you live nearby?” he begins to prod at you with innocent questions.

“Ah, not quite. I have to take a bus to get here since I don’t have a car anymore. I live on the east side of town, close to that big mall they built recently.” 

Denki is easy to talk to, a nice balance budding between the two of you as he takes boxes out and hands you colorful cups and tumblers to put on the shelves. 

“Hey, I live around those parts, too, I can give you a lift after work, save you some bus fare. Unless you have some super jealous boyfriend or something?” Despite flunking out of college, Kaminari isnot stupid — he isplaying his cards just right, creating an opportunity to learn if you’re single and give you an option to spend more time with him, which isn’t really an option. Unless you do have a boyfriend, you wouldn’t have a reason to say no, not after the deliberate way he phrased it. 

“Haha, no, no boyfriend — kind of the reason I don’t currently have a car and why I had to move.” There’s an edge to your voice, maybe even a trace of anger, but to him they appear as feelings that seem to have simmered down. “I got out of a long relationship recently. We used to live together and share a car, but I had to get my own place after the breakup, and he took the car. And the dog.”

“That bastard!” Denki chimes, a bit too exaggerated, but he figures making a small joke won’t actually hurt. “Really though, that sucks. I’m sorry it happened.” 

The way he switches from being a clown to being a gentleman can give a person whiplash. 

“Don’t be, I’m not sorry it happened.” You shrug your shoulders and give him a wide, genuine smile. “Now I get to hook up and have flings whever I want.” 

You keep the tone light, and you mean what you said — you’re not looking for anything serious right now, and the satisfaction from your answer was well written on the blonde’s face. He was cute, so maybe you’ll play along, have fun for once. 

“So this means you’ll let me give you a ride?” 

“If you really don’t mind?” You put the final tumbler on the shelf and examine your work in delight. Meanwhile Denki examines your body in delight. 

“Oh, I’d be honored to.” A devious grin adorns his face as he follows you behind bar to help serve customers. 

The day goes on, the playful banter between you and the blonde continuing — turns out you have similar hobbies: you like the same movies and games, you even have similar music taste, and Denki relinquished the store music rights to you for the day. 

Your shoulders would brush as you work side by side at the coffee machines, and he would laugh shyly, complimenting your pace and how well you’re adjusting to the new store. The exchanges between the two of you were flawless, seamlessly passing each other lids and pitchers without so much as saying a word. 

Kaminari gave the perfect performance of a man who enjoys his work; he didn’t even obnoxiusly flirt with every beautiful girl that placed an order. 

“Hey, can you grab some more caramel drizzle from the back?” Denki asks after a huge line of people finally dissipates and gives room for some tidying up and restocking. 

“Yea, absolutely. Need anything else?” 

“Also grab some extra bags of coffee beans and vanilla syrup if you can?” 

You nod and head to the back of house energetically.

Denki’s been working here for over two years now, so he knows that after this rush there won’t be anyone in the store for another half an hour at least, so sending you to the back of house away from customers was a calculated move. As soon as you disappear behind the doors he follows — after all, you wouldn’t be able to carry all that back to the front on your own.He should give you a hand. 

Smiling to himself, he enters the storage area to see you standing on your tip toes trying to reach the bags of coffee on the top shelf. Quietly he walks up behind you, one hand on your waist to pull you back a bit, the other hand reaching above you for the coffee beans. 

“Be careful. If you can’t reach somewhere, just call for me. Don’t want you getting hurt back here.” He can feel you melt into him and rest your back against his chest as he takes the four-pound bag down for you. 

“Oh, sorry… I thought I was gonna be able to reach.” You smile at him, realizing how he was surrounding you in that moment, and something about itmade your skin tingle. “Thank you.” 

“Of course! I figured you wouldn’t be able to carry everything at once so I came along to give you a hand.” The two of you stood very close to one another in the cramped storage, but you didn’t mind, as it was far too cold back here, and Kaminari was pleasantly warm to the touch. “The caramel drizzle is all the way down on that same self, if you want to grab that?” 

Eager to complete the task, you turn around and bend over to open the box labled “caramel drizzle,” giving Denki a perfect view of you round ass, making him gulp hard. If he just reached forward he would be able to trace the curve of your ass with his hand, squeeze one cheek as his other hand trails down your side. 

He shakes the thoughts out of his head as you stand back up, several bags of caramel sauce in your hands. You were squishing them playfully which was not helping Denki in keeping unholy thoughts at bay. 

“I always loved the texture of these bags; it’s so stress relieving to play with them.” Grinning up at him, you were the picture of innocence. 

“Yea, they remind me of tiddies.” Denki blurts out without even thinking, too enthralled by his imagination showing him images of you wrapping your pretty lips around his cock and playing with his balls. Once he realizes what he said he waves his hands around in defence. “No, no, not what I mea–” 

“You haven’t touched boobs recently, have you?” You deadpan, and he can feel his heart sink. “Boobs are much more firm. I get where you’re coming from, but a bag of caramel sauce can not compare to a tit.” You say matter of factly while squishing a bag with your hand. “Can’t do that to a boob, can you?” 

Denki snorts out a laugh. 

“Yea, you’re right — tiddies do feel better. And it has indeed been a while since I got to touch one.” He dramatically wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eye, a big pout on his lips as he turns to exist the storage. 

“Aww, poor Denki… Wanna cop a feel?” You can see him physically freeze up at these words, turning to give you a bewildered look. “I’m joking! Obviously. You that desperate, pretty boy?” 

You walk past him with a gleeful look on your face. 

The look in Kaminari’s eyes changes as soon as you’re out of sight, and he cannot wait to get his greedy hands on you. In fact, he was going to challenge himself and get between those plush thighs of yours by tonight. 

When the two of you are behind bar again, he continues to orbit close to you, watching videos on your phone over your shoulder, brushing his fingers against your skin when he passes you a milk carton, caging you between his body and the bar while he reaches for something behind you. 

And every time you accidentally touched, you could feel electicity run down your spine and butterflies flutter in your stomach. His light amber eyes trailing down your body lit a fire in your lower belly. The day went on just like that — standing a bit too close to one another, making inappropriate jokes, flirting. And so came time to close and go home, riding in his car. 

“You done with the trash?” you ask as he takes his apron off. 

“Yeah, if you’re done with the floor we can head on out.” You head to the back of house together to grab your stuff from your lockers and lock up. 

“So, got any plans for tonight?” he asks, leaning on his locker while waiting for you to put your jacket on. 

Now that you’re officially off the clock, you take the time to pay attention to small details about the man — how long his eyelashes are, how he cockily half smiles at you, how veiny his forearms are. 

“No plans, no — I’m probably gonna end up watching Desperate Housewives with a glass of wine by myself.” 

And there you go — giving him another opportunity. 

“Oh you watch that too?” He’s excited, presenting this as an interest that not many share with him. “That’s basically my plan for the evening, except I was gonna get high instead of drinking.” Sharing with you that he smokes weed is also tactical; it indicates trust that you won’t misuse that information, and it also opens a gate for you to bond with him over weed if you smoke. 

“Oh, well...” And there you go, taking the bait. “If it’s not too forward of me to offer, I’ve got alcohol and pizza on speed dial, you have weed and good company. Maybe we can merge resources, watch tonight’s episode together?” 

Score.

“Sounds perfect.”

He places his hand at the small of your back as he leads you towards his car, being very caring and gentle — making you feel comfortable and safe, letting you open up to him. It was going to be a fun night for Denki. 

Your apartment is exactly what he envisioned: small but cozy, full of plants, color and art. The small space reflected your personality, a variety of interests on display, different styles clashing in every corner of the room. It was cute. And your chouch seemed very comfortable for eating pussy.

“Cute place.” 

“Thanks. I finally got the chance to decorate my own space however I want, so I went a bit crazy with it.” 

Kaminari doesn’t miss the emphasis in your voice; you lived for a long time with no control over small and insignificant things such as decor. You were frustrated. At the same time, he notes that now you seem to cling to control. He noticed it at work, too — you rarely gave yourself time off. Things are really looking up for the blonde man, and he can barely contain his wolfish smile as the gears in his head turn. You’d love to give up control, wouldn’t you? 

“Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll grab us some drinks and we can order pizza.” 

As you make way to the small kitchen, Denki takes two pre-rolled joints from a cigarette tin and places them on the table. Wine and weed should make you nice and pliable for him. You return with a glass of white wine and a cold beer. 

“I figured you’s prefer a beer over wine.” You offer with a smile, and he accepts. 

“How observant of you. I just wanna check first:Are you sure you want to mix alcohol and weed? Might hit you hard.” He shows concern, but it’s fake — the more crossfaded you are, the easier it would be for him to get you naked. 

“Yea I’m uh.. More practiced than I care to admit.” You give him a coy smile and sit next to him on the couch, phone in hand ready to order food. Once that is out of the way, you both finally lean back and relax on the couch, the episode of Desperate Housewives starting with a recap. 

“So, do you invite people you just met to your apartment to get stoned often, or..?” He offers jokingly as he lights one of the joints up. 

“No, just the pretty and charming ones.” You’re no longer being coy about it like you were at work; you like him, and you aregoing to make it known. 

“Oh, you think I’m pretty? So you only want me for my face?” He retorts with faux disappointment, eyes focused on yours intently, curious and full of desire. 

“Not just your face. You have pretty hands too.” You answer with a straight face, reaching for his hand that was holding the joint and pulling it towards yourself, taking a drag from the joint between his slender fingers. 

Denki swallows, the lust thick in his throat. The way your lips wrap around the joint is sinister, the eyecontact you maintain while doing it — electrifying. 

His body responds before his brain can process, leaning in towards you to capture the smoke from your lips with his own, inhaling it and placing his free hand at the back of your neck, keeping your lips close to his. 

Honey-colored eyes stare down at you as your cheeks begin to heat, mind and heart racing as your tongue darts to wet your lips and taste him. Screw your plan to just tease him, wind him up for a week or two, make him eager — you don’t have the patience for all that. You set your glass on the coffee table and close the gap between the two of you, pushing him back, straddling him. 

“Feeling bold tonight, sweetness?” He smiles up at you, letting you get your dose of control, let you simmer in the illusion that you initiated this, you took the lead. His free hand rests on your thigh, thumb drawing circles over your jeans, gently squeezing you. 

You don’t dignify him with a response as your lips crash onto his in a searing kiss, fingers carding through his blonde locks. He can tell how needy you are by the way your body moves — pulling his hair a bit harder than you should, nipping at his lower lip, canting your hips over his. You’re leaning into his every touch, almost aggressively taking what you want from him, claiming control. 

He smiles into the kiss and in one swift move shifts you to lay flat on your back on the couch, his larger frame towering over yours. 

“Don’t move.” He sounds almost like a different person as he yanks the control from you, and you obey. You lay still and watch him intently as he lights the joint again, taking a long drag and putting the joint back on the ashtray. 

Leaning down, he places his hand under your chin, parting your lips and blowing the smoke into your mouth. You inhale and hold your breath as he traces kisses down your jaw and collarbone, warm hands sneaking under your shirt. He only speaks after you slowly exhale the smoke.

“You’ve brightened my day, you know. Let me thank you properly.” 

His fingers trail down your body and unbutton your jeans, feather light kisses pressed against your tummy just above the hem of your pants. You don’t protest, so he continues his ministrations, pulling your shirt up above your head and leaving you in your pink lacy bra. He pushes one of the bra straps to the side and—

Ding dong!

The pizza has arrived. 

“Fuck–” He scrambles to his feet to go answer the door while you qucikly throw your shirt back on and head to the kitchen. Denki follows with pizzas in hand that he quickly discards on the table. 

“Are the pizzas cut? Do you need any sauce or—” You’re scooped up in his hands and pressed against the kitchen counter. His lips are on your again, insistent and needy. “Denk— The food?” 

“I was hoping for a different meal.” 

His breath is hot against the shell of your ear as he lifts you up to sit you on the marble counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he makes desire bubble inside you once more. 

Discarding your pesky shirt again, he wastes no time in removing your bra and cupping your breasts, lips enclosing around your pert nipple. 

“You’re right — much better than a bag of caramel sauce.” His words are barely above a whisper as he tweaks your nipple between thumb and index finger, leaving wet kisses across your sternum and stomach. His hands grip at the hem of your still unbuttoned jeans, and you follow his wordless instruction, lifting your hips and letting him slip the jeans off. 

There you were, practically naked on your kitchen counter while he, still fully dressed, devoured you with predatory eyes. Large hands rest on your bare thighs, and he gently spreads your legs and drags you closer to the edge of the countertop.

You’re pretty and soft, and you smell nice. Denki can’t help but wonder if you’ll taste sweet as well. A single digit traces the outline of your lacy thong, marveling at the wet spot forming on the material. Hooking his finger behind the material, he roughly pulls it upwards — the feeling isn’t exactly pleasant, but it doesn't hurt either; it’s simply not enough friction. You need more. Your nose and eyebrows scrunch, and you wrap your hand around his wrist, a pleading whine leaving your parted lips.

“Aw, I’m sorry pretty girl… I won’t tease you too much, promise.” 

Another quick peck to your lips and he sinks to his knees in front of you, eye level with your needy wet cunt. Pushing the pink fabric to the side, he inspects your pretty cunt, glistening with arousal. Kissing from the inside of your thigh and making his way to your core, all you can do is tug on his hair and hold on while he devours you whole. 

Kaminari finally delves his tongue into your heat, leaving a long stripe from your needy hole to your sensitive clit and then focusing on the latter. His tongue is gentle, teasing — like he has all the time in the world to enjoy this tasty treat, working you up until your body starts moving on its own against his tongue. Your head is so far up in the clouds that you probably aren’t even aware of how tightly you’re gripping his hair and how you’re moving your hips rhythmically against his mouth. 

You sound cute: breathless and whiny, softly begging under your breath, head tilted back in pleasure as the muscles in your thighs stiffen and your legs shake. Yet, Denki does not speed up, maintaining his languid pace and dangling true bliss right in front of your eyes. 

“F-fuuck… Denki, please...” 

Your heart is in your throat, and your body aches from the tension, you need release. You can feel the smirk on his lips as you beg him. 

At the peak of your high, delirious from the need to cum but not being given enough friction to tumble over the edge, Denki lifts two long, slender fingers to your wet cunt and slowly pushes them inside you, the feeling of being filled up driving the air out of your lungs. 

Quickly, Denki finds that spongy spot inside you and presses against it, moving his fingers right against it while his lips and tongue focus on your clit. 

It takes seconds for you to ascend, body going rigid as your muscles contract around his fingers and your orgasm is forced out of you with a strangled moan. He does not slow down. 

One strong arm wraps around your thigh, keeping you still while his mouth continues to ravage you, fingers slipping in and out with precision. He was intending to force another orgasm out of you without giving you time to recover from the first. 

Your arms and legs feeltingly and limp, and Denki has to support your weight all while eating you out like a man starved. His cock is painfully hard in his tight jeans, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make you cum one more time on his face. 

You taste like wild honey, and your whiny pleas fuel him to keep going, marveling in the feeling of you becoming tighter and tighter for him, chest heaving erraticly and shaky fingers scratching at his arms and shoulders. You are about to come undone for him. 

Before your mind can respond to your body, the coil in your belly snaps, and you gush onto his fingers with a scream, squirting in his earger mouth as he licks up every clear droplet. He removes his fingers and helps you come down from your high with gentle kisses over your swollen clit and soft thighs. 

Your mind is spinning, but your ears register the sound of a belt unbuckling. Groggily opening your eyes, you are met with the image of him keeping his t-shirt tucked between his teeth as he fists his cock to the sight of you. His pupils are blown — only a thin ring of gold remaining. He closes the gap between you again, his warm length resting on your sticky cunt, slowly gliding between your folds. 

You open your mouth to ask if he has condoms, but he seems to have already read your mind. 

“Don’t have any on me, but I’m clean, and I won’t put it in.” His words are rushed, and he is far too entranced by the feel and sound of wetness to even look you in the eyes. 

You can’t even bother to argue, too tired and blissed out with a new sesnse of hunger growing in the pit of your stomach. Your hips instinctively move to meet his thrusts, the mushroom tip of his cockhead grinding into your sensitive clit, and you just want more. Tired hands reach out to him, thumb rubbing over his cheek as he leans into your touch, kissing your palm with his eyes shut as his hips thrust faster against your sloppy wet cunt. 

“Fuck, gorgeous, you have no idea how bad I wanna be inside ya.” He nips at your hand still resting on his cheek and growls lowly, frustrated by his own imagination of how snug you would feel around his cock. 

Drunk on his words and the previous two orgasms he forced out of you, you want him just as bad. Throwing all logic and reasoning out the window you use the last of your strenght to lift your hips and line him up to your entrance, slamming your hips down and taking his cock all at once with a yelp. 

“P-Please, please…” You mumble in a chant as your velvety walls spasm around his girth, mouth loosly hanging open and a bit of drool trickling down your chin. You were so beautifully fucked out, heavy eyelids giving you the most seductive look. 

Finally overcoming his shock and managing to stifle his impending orgasm, Denki moves his hips and curses under his breath at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him in. Grinning wolfishly at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, small hands gripping his sleeve for dear life, he angles his hips to thrust his cock right into your sweet spot making you scream his name in pleasure. 

God, if he hadn’t edged himself half to insanity, he’d want to stay buried in your warm cunt for the whole evening, but you felt so good, he knew he wouldn’t last. Hooking his arms under your knees and then linking his finger behind your neck he rams his cock fervently inside you. The angle change of this position made you feel him all the way in your stomach, your clit slapping against his pelvis with each thrust. Snaking a hand between your bodies you circle a finger over your clit to help yourself while he uses you as a fleshlight.

“That’s right sweetness, keep doing that, you need to cum one more time f’me. One more.” 

Folding you even more and slamming you on his cock he could feel your insides trying to push him out as a third orgasm washes over you, more clear liquid splashing against his abdomen as you cry out his name.

Letting you out of the headlock, he pulls out quickly, pumping his fist over his cock as his balls thighten, and he empties his seed all over your wet cunt, smearing his cum over your clit and folds with a relieved sigh.  

Still caging you in with his arms at your sides, he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. 

“You good?” You answer with a weak nod, and he can’t help but chuckle at how exhausted you are reaching over for the kitchen paper. “Sorry, it’s the closest thing I can clean you up with.” 

After catching your breath and no longer being covered in sticky cum, post-nut clarity finally settles in, and you chew on your lower lip, anxiously pondering the consequences of your actions. 

“Don’t freak out, pretty girl.” He’s his usual charming self now, feline eyes crinkling in a smile. “You don’t want anything serious, nor do I, and if word gets out at work we’d be both in trouble. So, how about we keep this between us?” 

Offering you a perfect escape — the final part of his plan. You smile widely glad to know you’re both on the same page, the anxiety dying down. 

“Also, sorry to bust a load and hit the road, but my landlord has left me like 12 messages about some emergency at the flat so I think I should really go check it out, might be a flood.” He awkwardly scratches his neck, showing that he feels bad about this. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Go, I hope it isn’t flooded.” You turn to grab one of the abandoned pizzas on the table. “Why don’t you take this with you? You never got to eat it anyway. Won’t be as good as fresh pizza, but it’s something…” 

He grins widely, accepting the pizza and giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you. I’ll see you at work then, newbie?” 

“See you then.” 

Escorting him to the door you lock it behind him and rest your back to the door taking a deep breath. 

Walking outside of your apartment complex, Denki pulls his phone out of his back pocket and dials a number under the name “Landlord Toshi”. 

“Hey man, thanks for always having my back with the apartment ‘emergencies.’” The blonde laughs into the phone. “Yea, I told you she was gonna be easy — fresh out of a relationship, wants to let loose and make up for lost time, constantly feels like she has to be in control so naturally gives the reins away when it comes to fucking. It was a fun little challenge.” 

“You dog.” The man on the other line chuckles and a bong can be heard in the background. “You gonna tap that again?” 

“Nah, she seems the type to catch feels.” Denki lights up the other joint in his cigarette tin and gets in his car, revving the engine. “Plus, the only reason I did this was to even the bet scores at work while Touya is still on vacation.”

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

#unholytext.exe #denki kaminari x reader #denki x reader #kaminari x reader #denki kaminari smut #denki smut #kaminari smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw.dubcon #tw.manipulation #tw.drugs #tw.alcohol #tw.weed #slimeball collab #slimeball denki #slimebucks series

[croimilis]

King of My Heart

title: king of my heart

rating: 16+

characters: robert ‘bob’ floyd x pilot!reader (callsign ‘siren’)

words: 5.8k

themes: friends to lovers, idiot in love, fluff, mutual pinning

warnings: alcohol, cursing, minor injury detail (bruises, cuts), plane ejection, use of petnames (sweetheart), mentions of illness and parental death, mentions of needles, making out, mentions of anxiety

summary: "and all at once, you are all I want, i'll never let you go"

An accident during training and a little liquid courage has Bob finally making his move

tags: @sebsxphia​ 

a/n: part of the fly me to the moon universe. 

Falling in love with Robert Floyd was like standing in the eye of a hurricane, the world around you being torn apart at the seams and yet there is calm, serenity in the way he holds your hand when he’s nervous, in the way his eyes never leave yours when your talking, in the way he always makes sure to smile at you when you enter the room as a small way to say ‘hey, i’m here’ because he knows that despite your outgoing personality you can get overwhelmed in social situations and he wants to remind you that he’s a safe space where you can just sit in enjoy each other presence without committing to a conversation, in the way that he can read your body language and knows you better than yourself. 

Realising you were in love Robert Floyd was like walking through a soft spring rain, you don’t realise how intense it is until you’re soaked through to the core, until the feeling is so all consuming you can barely breath and you feel it seeping through your bones, setting every nerve on fire until it settles deep in your heart and you suddenly know that is love. 

It was five months ago that you realised you were in love with Bob, well, five months since your sister came to visit you at Lemoore and practically scolded you for not snatching Bob up because he was the perfect man. Five months since you insisted that you were just friends. Five months since he held you in his arms and let you cry your heart out over the fact that your fathers health was getting worse and you couldn’t be there. 

Five months since your sister looked at you watching Bob one night and said to you, “He looks at you like mom looks at dad” and you had never known a purer love than your parents. Five months since you looked over at Bob and saw him already watching you, that soft smile he reserved only for you on his face, and the realisation came crashing down that you were in love with Robert Floyd.  Five months since you decided you were going to do absolutely nothing about it, afraid of ruining the close friendship you had developed over the years. 

Bob thought the realisation that he was in love would be electric, like every nerve would be set on fire, he thought it would be like getting lost at sea and being swept under by waves over and over unable to catch his breath. He thought love should be wild and alive, coursing through his veins like it was adrenaline. 

But it wasn’t. It was peaceful and soft, seeping into the very fibre of his being, it was like being wrapped in a warm hug, of warmth and safety, of coming back to a warm house after walking through an endless storm, it was the feeling of you. 

Of holding you close to his chest when you curl up together during a movie night, of the sound of your laugh and the brightness of your smile, of how your hand slips into his and gives it a gentle squeeze to reassure him that you're there beside him during any event. 

It was two months ago that Bob realised he was completely and absolutely in love with you, two months since Phoenix practically smacked him across the back of the head when he started moping around the hanger when you told him you had a date (one you were going on in a half-hearted attempt to get over him) and explained to him why he was so upset about you going on a date. 

Two months since Bob looked over to you in the hanger, working on your own plane smiling and laughing with your wingmen, and he thought to himself that it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen with the way the sunlight filtering through the hanger danced across your body and made you glow so beautiful Bob could have swore you were a goddess incarnate, a flush spreading throughout his entire body with his heart thundering in his chest and the only thought flashing through his mind being, “I’m so in love you”. It was two months since Bob decided that he was going to take the realisation and the feelings and bury them deep inside himself, the fear of losing you as a friend overriding his desire to pursue you romantically. 

It was 12 hours ago that the world crashed down around Bob, 12 hours since he had last seen you. 12 hours since you had to eject from your jet after an engine failure and were admitted to hospital for a check-up to make sure you were okay, 12 hours since his heart almost beat out of his chest and anxiety swelled throughout his body to the point it was painful and he felt like he was going to throw up, bile forming in the back of his throat every time he thought of you being hurt and alone in the hospital. He knew you hated them, hated the clinicalness of it all, hated the fake smiles doctors and nurses held. But most of all he knew you hated the memories that came with them, of your grandfather and, most recently, your father hooked up to machines, their eyes and bodies lifeless as they finally lost themselves to their illnesses. 

He wanted to be with you, god he wanted to but Maverick had informed him no one was allowed in to see you and that you would only be in for a few hours while they ran some tests, some bloods alongside a CT and MRI to make sure you didn’t suffer from any internal injuries because on the outside you seemed completely fine, a few cuts and bruises from the landing but otherwise fine. Bob should have felt relieved at the news, but his anxiety only grew, despite being one of the best naval aviators that top gun produced and one of the bravest people he knew, he knew of your fear of needles and medical testing, again associating them with the failing health of your family members. 

The anxiety grew and grew throughout the day, turning from a sapling into a horrible monster that wrapped its claws around his heart and squeezed until he was sure it was going to stop, that wrapped a hand or tail around his throat and squeezed so tightly that he thought he was going to pass out because of his inability to breath. The worry planted itself in his heart and spread its roots throughout his veins until he could feel it in every fibre of his being, the heaviness of it making it hard to move until he suddenly couldn’t, as if the roots had spread from the veins in his legs and out through the soles of his feet and wormed their way into the ground beneath him, knotting over and over under the hardwood of the hard deck floors so it kept him anchored, unable to take even a step away from the bar where he currently sat, a bottle of beer in his hands and an empty whiskey glass to the left that he had finished within his first few minutes of entering the bar. 

Phoenix could see the tension in her back seaters shoulder’s, the way he sat hunched over with his eyes trained onto the grains of the countertops and how he was gripping the bottle of beer with all his strength (to the point she was afraid it was going to break in his hands), and it worried her. She had never seen Bob like this, not even when they flew the uranium mission did he hold this much stress in his body and she was concerned. To the point that she was quick to abandon the game of pool she was playing (and winning) against Hangman to go and see if he was okay. Which he obviously wasn’t if the way he jumped out of his skin when she placed her hand gently on his shoulder was any indication. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

As Bob’s nerves settle a little, the scare from Natasha’s sudden appearance dissipating and mingling with the anxiety already overwhelming his body, he puts the beer to his lips and gives a gentle nod. A nod that wasn’t all that convincing as Natasha raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest, showing she wasn’t leaving until he spilled. As Bob places the beer on the counter he sighs and dips his head forward a little so he’s once again staring down at the counter tops. 

“Jus’ concerned about Siren s’all.” As Bob speaks a little bit of his southern twang slips through, something he was usually careful about, but the small amount of alcohol seeping through his veins alongside the anxiety makes him long forget about hiding his natural accent, and if Natasha notices it she says nothing and just nods her head. Instead, she leans on the bar beside Bob, propping her chin in her hand as she does. 

“Hmmm… and that’s just friendly concern, right?” Natasha’s eyes watch Bob from her periphery, and she smiles as a blush spreads across his cheeks and some of the tension eases a little at her teasing, she didn’t really know how to help. She had never had a friendship like the two of yours, never had a love like what Bob held for you, but if she could take his mind off it for just a little bit then she could. 

“Of course… of course… just friendly concern.” Natasha smirks to herself as she watched Bob down the rest of his beer, it was one of only two times she had seen the WSO drink the other time being the celebration after the success of the uranium mission and even then he limited himself to just a couple beers over the many hours of celebrating but here he was a whiskey straight and a beer already finished in the space of 30 minutes. 

“Right…right.” A deep sigh falls from Natasha’s lips as she fully turns toward Bob once again, her hand still propped on her hand though now it was by her cheek instead of her chin. “You should tell her.” 

Bob eyes Natasha suspiciously, the tension eased a little bit more as he orders another whiskey and Natasha a beer, “Tell who what?” 

“Tell (Y/N) that you’re in love with her” 

Bob nearly chokes on his own spit at Natasha’s words, his face growing redder than it was before, though it's hard to tell if that was from the alcohol or his embarrassment. He knew that Phoenix knew he was in love with you, she had been the one to point it out to him after all, but this was the first time she had encouraged him to actually say anything. Clearing his throat, Bob begins to pick at the label of the empty beer bottle in front of him.

“I can’t do that…” Though his voice is quiet, Natasha still manages to hear him and she offers him a sweet smile and squeezes him on the shoulder gently. She knew his fears, knew he was scared of losing you but she also knew how you felt. Had seen the way you looked at Bobby (you were the only one allowed to call him that) like he placed the stars in the sky himself and was responsible for the rise and fall of the sun every morning and night, how you always looked at him like he was the most interesting person in the room even as he rambled on about the jets and his systems (something that put most people to sleep). She knew you were as hopelessly and desperately in love with him as he was with you. 

“Can’t do what Bobby?” Your voice surprises them both as they whip around and see you standing just behind them in your civies, your bomber jacket on and your aviators slipped into the neck of your shirt. 

The sound of your voice is like the whiskey he was drinking, warm and honey smooth as it warms its way into his heart and spreads a heat through his body that burns the roots of worry that had made a home in his body and the sight of you, healthy and alive with a smile on your face that is reserved only for him, turns the monster gripping his throat and chest into something soft and fluffy and warm and suddenly he can breath again and can move freely, feet taking him one step closer to you and then another and then another until he’s standing within arms reach and all he wants to do is reach out and pull you into his arms and never let you go until the world falls apart around him. 

“C-can’t handle my alcohol.” Bob lets out a nervous chuckle as Penny sets his second whiskey down behind him and rubs at his neck as Phoenix steps forward and takes you into a hug. 

“Glad to see you’re okay Siren.” 

“Thanks Nat.” Your voice is soft and there’s a little bit of strain to it, like you had been crying and your throat was still tender. To anyone else, it was the only indication you had been crying, your eyes bright and clear,no redness or puffiness around them. But Bob knew better, looked closer and could see the streaks that stained your cheeks no matter how much you tried to wipe them off. 

Natasha gives you one last squeeze and a peck to your cheek as she pulls away, eyes drifting between your form and Bobs with a small smile as she steps back, “We’re in the usual place if you're up for joining us.” As she turns to walk back towards the group crowded around the pool table in the corner, Phoenix mouths at Bob “tell her” and gives your shoulder a gentle rub as she passes by. 

You both smile at her as she walks away, eyes following her until she’s back with the rest of the squad before turning back to one another. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, all the stress and anxiety you had been harbouring all day bubbling to the surface once again and threatening to overwhelm you with tears once again welling in your eyes as Bob opens his arms up to you to bring you into an embrace. One you are quick to take, arms wrapping tightly against his torso and burying your head into his chest, taking deep breaths to try and try and stop the anxiety welling inside you, as Bobs wrapped his arms around your shoulder and places his chin on your head. 

As you took deep breaths through your nose, you’re overwhelmed with the scent of Bob. His cologne is almost over powering but underneath the sharpness is the smell of him, of engine oil from working on the jet all day and the lingering smell of cloves and cinnamon buried underneath the harshness of the engine oil. It was strange but it was grounding and in combination with Bob's strong arms around you, applying pressure in the right places, the anxiety inside you starts to slowly melt away. 

It starts in your shoulders, the tension in them all but evaporating as they droop a little and then it moves down your arms, a feeling of warmth spreading underneath your skin and through your veins as you feel your muscles relax, to your hands which spread themselves against the panes of Bobs back, and down down your spine, legs, and feet, as if it was dripping through your soles and into the floorboards below. 

You're so focused on your breathing, on erasing your anxiety and worries that you don’t notice Bob gently rubbing his hand down the column of your spine and him whispering in your ear that you were going to be okay, but that was more for his own reassurances than yours. The weight of you in his arms, the pressure of holding you against his chest, the scent of your perfume and shampoo invading his senses all serve as a reminder that you were alive, that you were standing in front of him and you were okay. It settled any anxiety that remained in his system. 

If Bob was being honest, he didn’t want to let you go, wanted to hold onto you for the rest of time. But he couldn’t, so instead he lets you go but keeps a hand on your arm as he leads you to the bar and moves it so it's sitting just between your shoulder blades as you lean on the bar and order a (preferred drink) from Penny, who gives you a sweet smile that lets you know she’s glad your okay and offers Bob a questioning glance as she notices the closeness between the two of you. 

It wasn’t unusual for you and Bob to be close, unless your training or on base the two of you were never too far from one another but you were usually the one to initiate any kind of affection, be it a hug or having a hand on his arm or shoulder as you stood next to him, and the affection from Bob wasn’t unwelcome, you relished in it and enjoyed it every time he initiated it. But something about this was different. 

It was soft and warm, and yet you could almost feel the desperation and fear behind it, almost as if you were going to disappear in a cloud of smoke between his fingers if he wasn’t touching you, if he couldn’t feel the sensation of your heart hammering against your ribcage (even if it's muted through your back). And if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t so sure you wouldn’t disappear, even if it was just to an unwelcome headspace, if Bob wasn’t there grounding you to reality. 

Bob wanted to ask how you were, if you were okay, what the hospital said, but one look at the slight dissociation in your eyes and he drops the thought, not wanting to distress you any further, instead her lifts his glass of whiskey and downs it one go which causes your eyebrows to shoot up as you looked at him. 

“You okay Bobby?” The genuine concern lacing your tone sends butterflies coursing through Bob's body, his nerves tangling in his stomach until it felt like it was flipping over and over. You had your personal day of hell, and yet still found yourself worried about little old him. Bob loved your caring personality, he just wished you focused on yourself for once instead of other people. 

Bob is quick to nod his head and place the glass back down on the counter, the burn in his throat and the heat of the alcohol coursing through his veins a welcome distraction from how he had previously been feeling, as Penny places your own drink down on the counter in front of you, accompanied by a shot courtesy of Maverick which you are quick down. The burning sensation is welcome and your body already feels lighter as it makes its way through your bloodstream. 

“I’m good sweetheart” A blush spreads across your face, Bob had never called you sweetheart before and it felt so good coming from him, you associated the word ‘sweetheart’ with condescending men who thought they knew better than you or thought you owed them something, with them it was a weapon. A word sharpened at the edges and used to dig under your skin to cause annoyance or cause you to bleed for compliance. But with Bob, it was like whiskey, honey sweet and smooth, spreading a welcome warmth through your entire body. 

You wanna question him, wanna know why he called you it, but he’s ordering another drink before you can, seemingly doing it by complete accident, just a slip of the tongue brought on by the whiskey he had downed, so you leave it. Instead lift your drink, taking a small sip as you turn and lean against the bar while waiting for Bob's third whiskey to arrive before you join the rest of the crew. 

It's easy to find the rest of the dagger squad in the room of full of khaki uniforms, the tall forms of Rooster and Hangman easily standing out amongst the other aviators in the room, even if they weren’t the booming laugh of Rooster is loud enough for you to follow. You watch in amusement and the disbelief on Hangman's face and the pride on Phoenix’s as she stands from the pool table, she had obviously beat the tall blonde and you could see his mouth moving already demanding a rematch because there was no way in hell he was gonna let Phoenix have her win. 

You smile to yourself and take another sip of your drink, jumping a little as Bob places his hand on your shoulder to let you know he’s ready to head over to the others. Though he’s quick to remove it given your response, but you can still feel the warmth of it even through your bomber jacket almost as if it was scorching your skin. You shake the feeling off though and instead follow behind Bob as you head towards the usual pool table with a smile on your face, giving everyone a tight hug as they greet you. 

It’s three hours later that you move away from the crowd of aviators and towards a little corner to just watch them. You were a social person, enjoyed a good get together but sometimes things got a little overwhelming, a little too loud, a little too much and suddenly anxiety would crawl its way up your throat and take root and you would panic. You didn’t want that. Didn’t want to ruin people’s nights, especially with Maverick bringing his daughter in, just because you were a little anxious. So you took a step back, moved away from the source of the anxiety and attempted to soothe yourself.

Bob sees you’ve moved away from the crowd, he seems to be the only one who has noticed, the rest of the team too preoccupied with getting to know Mavericks daughter and so he was able to slip away and join you in your little corner. As he joins you, he notices your eyes are glazed over slightly and you look like your mind is floating a million miles away. He offers you a small smile and leans against the wall opposite you, content not to speak but be able to offer you some company, keeping you grounded to reality.

You offer Bob a soft smile and tilt your head towards the ceiling, taking a slow deep breath as you do to try and calm the anxiety that was threatening to boil over the surface. Bob reaches a hand out and runs it down your bare arm (your bomber jacket long abandoned and under the bar away from where it could get ruined), hands wrapping gently around your wrist before moving to lock his fingers with yours. 

The feeling is grounding, bringing you back down to reality before your mind can spiral completely and you're lost in the waves of anxiety. Your skin feels warm where Bob’s touch lingered and you can feel your palm heating up and almost becoming clammy as he brings it up and holds it against his chest where you can feel the gentle beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in and out. 

What you don’t know is a similar feeling is brewing inside Bob, his thoughts spiralling a little as the thoughts from earlier returned. About how he could have lost you, how absolutely terrified he was over the fact he could have lost you, how his heart got closer and closer to shattering into a million pieces the longer he went without seeing you and how all the cracks seemed to heal over the minute he laid his eyes on your form when you arrived at the Hard Deck that night. 

You come back to reality, moved so you were no longer staring at the ceiling but instead looking at Bob only to see he was now floating away in his thoughts. You untangle your hand from his, placing it flat against his chest and giving it a gentle tap to draw his attention to you, “You’re floating away Bobby, everything okay?” 

Bob cleared his throat and shook his head a little as if that would help dispel the thoughts swirling around them before he replies. “I-I… fuck” With the way you were looking at him, eyes all soft and full of adoration he hadn’t seen before and how you moved your hand away from his chest and down his arm to take his hand in yours and give it a gentle squeeze to ground him much like he did you, he knew he needed to tell you. 

Bob was never poetic and he wasn’t very good with his words, with telling people how he felt about them. He knew what he was feeling, his mama made sure he was emotionally mature enough to identify his feelings, he just had a hard time vocalising them. This was no different, he knew he was in love with you. Had been for god knows how long before he realised it himself and he wanted to tell you. God, he wanted to tell everyone, wanted to climb to the highest mountain and shout it for the world to hear. 

But fear ate away at his heart. Fear that you would think he was weird, that you would withdraw from him, that you would hate him, most of all he feared losing you completely. He would much rather have you in his life as just a friend than lose you completely. But with the alcohol coursing through his blood stream, the fear ebbed away and what was left was an overwhelming desire to let you know. He wasn’t sure where it came from, if he was to rationalise it in his sober mind it would be the fact that you could have died when you ejected from the plane and then you would have ever known, your ejection serves as a reminder that seeing the next sunrise wasn’t promised and he didn’t want to die, or see you die, without you knowing how he felt. 

Bob's eyes dart from the floorboards to your face, your usual soft smile gracing your lips as you look at him questioningly, but never prying. You knew what Bob wanted to say was important, could see it in the tension forming in his shoulders and how the vein running along his jaw jumped, but you weren’t going to push. No, you trusted Bob and he trusted you, so you knew that it would come out eventually, be that five minutes or five years from now. 

As Bob's eyes reach yours, for a second he thinks he can see the love he has for you reflected back at him, the same love Phoenix had insisted you felt for him, and it spurs him on as he steps closer to you. Your breath hitches as he does, a flush spreading across your cheeks as he stops so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating from his body. 

“(Y/N)...I’m in love with you” The silence that followed Bob's declaration seems to go on forever, a pregnant pause as you let his words sink in. Your heart starts to flutter and your every nerve lights up, making you feel like you’re vibrating, heat spreads throughout your body as a flush turns your cheeks red. You're stunned, you never thought you would see the day where Bob Floyd loved you back, had convinced yourself it was impossible no matter what your sister had told you, but yet he does. 

As you stand in silence, letting the shock course through your system, you search Bob's eyes for any hint that he was lying. That it was the alcohol in his system making him say things he doesn’t mean, but all you find is truth and love. The same love you had seen in your dad's eyes any time he looked at your mom, the same love your sister had spoken about when she met Bob all those months ago. 

Bob takes your silence as a negative, the previous flame of confidence dwindling until it was nothing but embers burning in the pit of his stomach, suddenly he starts to stammer. Starts to say “You don’t-” going to tell you it was fine, you didn’t have to reciprocate his feelings that he just needed to tell you, but you’re quick to cut him off. 

“Bob! You place a hand to his chest, just over his heart and you can feel the beat of it against your palm and it feels like it's ready to break out of Bob’s ribs. Bob shuts his mouth tight, lips turning into a straight line, it had been a long time since you called him by his name, usually sticking with Bobby or even Robert when you wanted to tease him, keeping the name ‘Bob’ tucked away for when he was in trouble or you wanted his attention.

You step back a little, letting go of his hand in the process but keeping one on his chest, and throw your head back against the wall with a little huff of laughter. An action that leaves Bob speechless and confused, his mouth hanging open almost comically. Your quick to regain your composure and you tilt your head forward once again to look at him, tilting it to the side almost innocently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh”

Bob shuts his mouth and gulps at the sincerity of your words, adam’s apple bobbing as he does. 

“I just… I have been dreaming about you saying those words for so long that it feels almost surreal to actually hear them” Bob swears his heart stops as he listens, you had been dreaming about this? The confusion must have been clear on his face, so you continue on. 

“I’ve been in love with you since our first days at Top Gun Bobby.” 

Bob stands like a gaping fish, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the words to match your confession. After all he never thought he would get this far, thought you would run away at first mention of the ‘l’ word and yet here you are, loving him back. He’s drawn out of his thoughts once again by your voice.

“Bobby?” Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, and with how you have a hand on his chest with the other behind you to take your weight, you look the picture of innocence and sweetness and Bob can’t help but think about how he wants to absolutely ruin you, but that would be for another time. A new found sense of confidence, born from a compilation of your confession and the whiskey in his system,  previously not experienced by yourself and the other pilots left behind at the pool table drives him even closer to you. 

His hand reaches to grab at your waist, giving the flesh a gentle squeeze which forces a small whimper to fall from your lips, and the other ghosts against your jawline before settling on the corner of your neck. His chest presses against yours, he’s as close as he possibly could be and yet you want, no need him closer to you. 

Yeah sweetheart?” His voice is husky and just that little bit deeper than normal, the southern twang he tries so hard to hide slipping through and sending desire flooding through your bloodstream to the point you have to hold back the whimper that is desperately trying to make its way past your lips. 

“Kiss me…please,” your tone is pleading, almost begging and Bob swears it's the prettiest sound he’s ever heard and it sends desire fooding through his system. He wants to hear it again.

Instead of making you beg further, he tilts your chin up with the hand that was on your neck and slots his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. It's so soft and featherlight, leaving you desperate for more and after spending so long pining and wanting, you think you have the right to be greedy and demand more. So you remove your hands from behind your back and instead twist them around Bob’s shoulder, one hand tangling in the little baby hairs at the base of his neck as you push him in closer to you and deepen the kiss. Bob nearly moans at your eagerness.

The kiss is all tongue and clashing teeth, years of pent up frustration and wanting finally spilling over and showing itself, and Bob is gripping your waist so tightly you're sure there's gonna be some bruising tomorrow. 

You pull away from Bob, just barely with your lips still ghosting over his and your noses bumping into one another as your foreheads touch, with panting breath and lust blown eyes. Your hands travel down from the nape of his neck and across the expanse of his broad shoulders to lightly grab at the flesh of his upper arms that are exposed in his service uniform. 

“Take me home.” Your breathless from the kiss and adrenaline coursing through your system, with your words coming out barely above a whisper but Bob hears you and he moves his hand from your hip and neck to take your hand in his, using it to guide you through the sea of people now gathered at the Hard Deck. He stops at the bar and closes out both your tabs as you order an uber, not wanting to be driving even with the small amount of alcohol in your system. He guides you outside and pushes you against the exterior of Hard Deck, hands moving under your shirt to grab at the soft flesh of your waist as yours wrap around his neck and pull him down into another kiss and this time you don’t stop until the uber pulls up.

As the two of you make your way out of the Hard Deck, you miss the smiles from your fellow pilots (especially Phoenix) as they watch the two of you leave, giddy smiles on your faces and hands tangled with one another, happy to see you two finally getting together, and miss Hangman handing money out Phoenix and Rooster with a grim look on his face.

#august.writes #sirenxbob #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x yn #robert 'bob' floyd x reader #robert 'bob' floyd x you #robert 'bob' floyd x yn #robert 'bob' floyd' fluff #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x yn #robert floyd x you #robert floyd fluff #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x yn #bob floyd fluff #tw.alcohol #tw.cursing #tw.injury detail #tw.brusies #tw.cuts #tw.plane ejection #tw.pet names #tw.illness #tw.parental death #tw.needles #tw.making out #tw.anxiety

[kwlsn]

the apple of my eye . . .

r ⁿ o . . .

A big chunk of crystal-clear ice slowly melted into Rin's glass — distorting the image of a lady in red heels, sensing his gaze on her like a predator for tonight.

Some people may call it an obsession, but Rindou wasn't obsessed with you — he was reclaiming what his.

"It's been a while, cheater."

"Sugar, y'know it's not true."

He waved his hand, telling everyone to leave him alone as a group of girls at the corner caught your eyes — making Sanzu and his men have to drag them out by their hair when they wouldn't budge.

Rindou hooked his arm around your knees, pulling you close to him as you rested your head against his chest, taking the upper three buttons off as your freshly manicured nails made a trail along his tatted chest.

"Thirty-thousand for this? My baby is either dumb and got scammed or trying to squeeze my money off."

He wrapped his hand around yours, pressing a kiss on your wrist as his eyes made contact with yours — trying to get an answer out of you.

Even though you moved out of his house, Rindou still let you have three of his cards to pamper yourself — each of them was for different occasions and as long as you didn't return them to him, he knew you were still his.

He believed you were playing around this whole time, still feeling upset when a stranger tried to make a move on him a year ago and he didn't brush her off.

You kept your lips tightly sewn, avoiding the older man's sharp eyes as his grip got tighter around your waist — pushing you to the limit as you straddled his hips, pressing your lips against his.

"You taste like alcohol, sugar."

"The guy I made out with is a heavy drinker."

Jealousy was a word Rindou never experienced before because he felt secure with your relationship with him — but your little game was his last straw and being nice to you was out of the topic now.

"Get on your knees now, whore."

He watched you climb off his lap, sitting in front of him like a good girl he taught you to be — feeling proud of himself for succeeding in molding you into his little doll.

Spreading his legs wide, you kept your hands close to you and unbuckled his belt with your mouth — taking it off slowly as you could see Rin was already getting impatient that his veins were visible around his neck and forehead.

Pushing down his boxer, you looked at his size in silence — always having many thoughts on how he would fit it inside you today when you knew that he would never give you time to adapt with it.

Shaking those thoughts off your head, you took his tip inside your mouth gently — feeling how heavy it was on your tongue, swirling it gently around his head before pushing it deeper into the back of your throat.

"Good girl."

He groaned, slipping his fingers between your hair and turning it into a makeshift ponytail — biting on his lower lip as your lipstick left a stain on his base (not that he was complaining though).

The combination of your tongue and moan was enough to drive him crazy, pushing him to his limit and giving him more high than any drug Sanzu could get for him — you were his only addiction and if you ran away again like before, Rindou might have to imprison you inside his expensive penthouse like what Mikey did to his wife.

One last buck against your mouth and he let out a thick string of cum filling up your mouth as you swallowed them without a complaint, looking at him with a pair of doe-like eyes that melted his heart the first time he met you.

"C'mere, sugar."

He took off your clothes and threw your expensive pair of underwear to the audience on the dance floor, watching them going wild and trying to grab one of the pair.

If there was something Rindou always enjoyed whenever he was with you, it was having people watching him pounding you hard — filling you up to the brim, making sure you kept everything to warm you up inside.

Rindou gripped your waist as he watched how you tried your best to fit it in as his tip was already making out with your cervix and yet, it was barely halfway inside.

"Need help? Here, lemme."

He placed both of your hands under your thighs spreading them open as he slammed his hips hard into your — a wide grin tugging on his lips, watching people taking pictures and videos of how your bare pussy was currently bullied by his thick cock.

Looking at him with red cheeks, you glanced at his hand and then your currently lonely clit — wanting him to pay it some attention as he let out a chuckle.

"You're really a whore, hm? Mine only, of course."

As if it was a threat, Rindou pinched your puffed up clit between his fingers — rubbing and rolling it with his hand as he could feel you were so close, wall pulsing and clenching on his cock, begging for it to fill you up, breed you and have every see you getting claimed by the one and only Haitani Rindou.

"I-I'm cummi—"

As if it was a cue, your raw pussy finally gave up and covered Rin's table with your sweet nectar — giving him a little bit of taste how much you had missed his voice, his touch, his cock.

As Rin noticed how tired you were, he asked one of his men to bring in a blanket — covering your shivering body with it before telling the rest to kill everyone who watched him fucking you.

After all, you were the apple of his eyes — you were his only and belonged to no one but him.

#tokyo revenger #tokyo revenger smut #rin haitani #rindou haitani #rindou haitani smut #rin haitani smut #tw.voyeurism #tw.exhibitionism #tw.alcohol #tw.recording #tw.murder #tw.slut shaming

[minhavn]

Yeonjun who slowly manipulates his best friend and fucks her 😩😩

this is sick, i love it <3

"Keep going, sweetheart"

Yeonjun smiled, keeping his hold on thigh and digging his nails into your skin, leaving the reddening crescent like marks all over it.

Without missing a single beat, he pulled you closer and threw your leg over his shoulder, face an inch away as his nose barely touched yours.

"Are you close?" He bit his lower lip, still cannot believe how he was able to rail you on his bed with only a bottle of spiked beer and some cheesy pick up lines along with 'i love you' in-between.

"Don't hold your breath—I'm here to make you scream, okay?"

#yijin — hard hour #yijin — dark contents #txt smut #yeonjun smut #tw.manipulation #tw.corruption #tw.drugs #tw.alcohol

[honeymaki]

havin soo many thoughts about bumping clits with a whiny bimbo, holding each other’s waists so tightly cuz it feels so good nd sloppy🥺

Pairing: Pieck x reader + (Porco, Reiner, Zeke, Mikasa mention)

Warnings: fem reader (no pronouns + fem genitals), implicit body description (tummy fat + pubic hair), tribadism, dumbification, bimbo!reader, bimbo!pieck, multiple orgasms, squirting, dubcon photography (previous consent given), cigarette/ alcohol mention, Zeke mention, not edited

So what if you’re both the clumsy whiny bimbos? Porco thought he struck out when you moved in, always knocking over things and spilling things down yourself, leaving sopping panties in the bathroom or bras strewn down the corridor, skimping around whenever his friends came over with pizza and beer and getting too drunk too quickly, plastering yourself to whichever girlfriend he had at the time ‘cause “I’m too tired Pock, are you guys gonna stay all night?”.

His girlfriends always seemed to break up with him a few days after having you squirming and curling next to them, talkin’ about lip gloss and perfume and what kind of vibrator did the job good. Strange.

It wasn’t until you - yes, you - got a girlfriend did he notice how much of a missed presence you were at his little pizza gatherings. Pieck was nice, a sweet little thing with tired eyes and the prettiest smile, but also undeniably stupid, as stupid as you with her bruised knees and constantly broken nails. She wasn’t as high maintenance as you, didn’t leave underwear out or clean her dildos in the kitchen sink - in fact, after she started spending more time with you, your underwear seemed to disappear completely. Strange.

And those pizza nights? Where Zeke would introduce them to a new kind of beer or make Eren deliver a specific brand of cigarettes, where Reiner would spend most his time eyeing you and accentuating his thighs ripe for you to sit on, where Porco would grumble about you stealing his girlfriend or laughing when you dropped a slice of pizza down your front - those nights were gone, different, quieter, so quiet, almost silent beyond the gulping and smacking of lips against molten cheese.

Sure, you and Pieck sometimes make an appearance, sometimes separately if Pieck was coming in from work or together when you two trashed the kitchen trying to make a snack; but you two almost always stayed in your room when the gang came over, even if Porco invited you down for food and a drink,

“Issokay Pock, we wanna watch a movie tonight! And Pieck said I can practise eyeliner on her, she uses those stamps y’know? And she can never get it right, and she always loves my eyeliner so -,” and suddenly Porco is reminded why he prefers you secluding yourself in your room, so he doesn’t have to sit through you jabbering on about something stupid. And he is also reminded at the same time, about how thankful he is for Pieck because now, finally, you have someone to talk to, to fawn over, to lie on, to gaze longingly at that isn’t one of his girlfriends.

Like you are now, gazing down at your girlfriend who’s got cheap eyeliner staining streams down her cheeks and lipstick smeared over her chin. The movie is long forgotten, some period drama about prejudice that Yelena suggested. You got distracted, enormously distracted by how squirmy Pieck was being, how much she was whining and grumbling about sitting still for you, kept crinkling her eyes so the eyeliner messed up, kept readjusting her legs under yours till her knee was pressed to your crotch and her stupid top was halfway down her chest, and suddenly the eyeliner and the movie and the stupid get together downstairs meant nothing.

“You’re so annoying sometimes,” a pillow falls to the floor, Pieck’s head dangerously close to the edge of the bed and she’s panting hard, gasping breaths fanning your collar bone and drying the spit she’d lathed over your skin. With her skirt flipped up over her hips, bunching with the fold of her belly, and threatening to cover the mess between her thighs; you hardly care for the banging of the headboard against the wall, or the rattling of your water bottle on your bedside table.

“Shut up, - you, fuck, don’t, go faster! - you were messing it up anyway,” Pieck’s statement diverges into a moan when you finally manage to hitch her thigh securely over your hip, opening her up better, easier, the slick of her pussy shining for a second before it’s smothered with yours,

“S’your fault for - nngh, Pieck - like, distracting - fuck! - me,” the feel of her against you, so hot, so soft and sugary and slippery, the harsh brush of her pubes against yours and the catching of her labia over your clit is just - you can barely speak, barely get a thought straight. One hand clawing into her hip, and the other hooking her thigh into the crook of your elbow, you speed up just a bit, swirling your pelvis and shuffling closer with every thrust against her.

“Faster! Please! - ,” Pieck throws her head back with a coo of your name, “No wait! Go a little - like - shit,”

You feel something shifting and suddenly Pieck is grinding back against you, up into you, foot planted into the mattress beside you so to give her enough momentum. Dropping your head to her chest, your mouth slobbers over her breasts, swelling and bouncing with every upward grind, whining when you can’t latch on properly.

“Stop I wanna, just stay there,” you can hear her grinding her teeth in concentration, the only time the two of you are actually smart enough to focus properly is when you’re both trying to cum messy and sloppy against each other. And god - fuck, you can feel her cunt pulsing and throbbing against yours, slipping and sliding hard enough, and fast enough to make echoing noises, filthy and lewd and knocking tears from your eyes. Her nails dig into your shoulder and your waist, trying to hold you still, keep you from grinding back down into her when she’s so close -,

“M’gonna cum, gonna cum! Right - right there don’t move!” For such a petit woman, she holds remarkable strength and Pieck fucks up against you, the leg still in your grasp tensing and kicking out, mouth opening with a howl. The sight alone is enough, the feeling of her spilling against you, into you, gushing against you, warm and sloppy and so messy that is has you cumming the same as her, crying out loud enough to leave a ringing in your ears and a cloud hanging low in your head, the world spinning and turning a fuzzy pink.

And you realise seconds later, that you’ve been flipped on to your back on to the remote for your fairy lights, and suddenly they’re pink and Pieck has put her hair up into a pony tail, looming over you with swollen lips and bitten breasts, cunt insistent against yours.

“I wanna - you cum first this time,” she’s slurring her words, grinding long and hard down against you, clit swirling clumsy and dirty over yours, and you can’t even form the words to reply. Not even a nod, if you don’t count the lolling of your head in time with her thrusts. Pieck’s got this deep flush to her skin, spreading down to her chest and mixing with the bruises you probably (?) sucked while you were cumming a moment ago. She’s sweating, drooling ever so slightly at the sight of your belly jiggling with how hard she’s grinding, barely lifting and slapping down, pussy hardly leaving yours for a second. It makes her go faster, makes her want to see all of you wobble and away and jolt with her actions,

“Pieck! Pieck! Pieck! Gonna - gonna ! Nngh fuck!” You’re chanting her name, shivering and shaking, belly tending and quivering, arms - you’re probably failing a bit because it’s too quick, too hard, coming too fast for you to say anything coherent, you’re gonna -, “gonna cum Pieck! Ma-I’m - ,”

You spasm with a wail, cunt gushing hard and wet, spraying with how quick and lithe your girlfriend fucks you through it. It soaks her skirt, a puddle between the two of you, dripping down your belly and shining pearly over your pubes. She slows down, doesn’t stop completely, but Pieck allows you to catch your breath, back returning to the mattress that’s bare with how hard you were tearing at the sheets. You’re both a mess, sweating and shiny, covering in cum and slick and spit, still fuckin’ grinding up against each other, the bedsheets crumpled beneath you, water spilt over your bedside table, fairy lights set to flicker - and yet, Pieck leans down and kisses your forehead, sweet and brief,

“After - can you still show me your eyeliner thing?” She reaches for her phone where it’s lodged beneath a stuffed dinosaur, opening an app and taking a photo, “look! It’s barely smudged!” She stares at the photo, at you, messy and bleary eyed and slack with pleasure, “What brand is it? Does it come in brown, cause I think Sasha said brown would suit me better,”

“Pieck,” your needy, whining whimper doesn’t go wholly unnoticed, squirming beneath your girlfriend with her inconsistent thrusts against you, as if continually forgetting she’s tribbing you and then suddenly remembering and delivering a hard, slick kiss of her cunt to yours, “after Pieck, wanna cum again, please - I promise I’ll do your makeup after,”

Pieck throws her phone down, still open on the picture of your fucked out face complete with perfect eyeliner before leaning down to kiss you, soft nibble and pecks to imitate the soft slicks of her pussy against yours,

“Mhm - then pizza after that? M’sure that new friend Mika might wanna see your eyeliner too! Maybe we can show her how good it stays on!”

#🧋.answers #ur welcome anon #pieck for u #🍡.wlw #🍡.nsfw #cw.tribadism #cw.dumbification #cw.squirting #cw.multiple orgasms #cw.body description #tw.alcohol #pieck x reader #pieck smut #aot smut #snk smut #pieck x you #pieck x y/n

[ndcultureis]

Autism culture is realizing you're drunk when you can't mask anymore. I usually start biting my friends

.

#neurodivergent culture #mod milo #tw.alcohol

[hufflepuffsandghosts]

The Costume Contest

Plot: Garcia has made plans to host a Halloween party at the BYU office after a stressful mission. Little do you know that you and your best friend have the same plans in an unexpected way. (Friends to Lovers, Fluff)

TW: slight mention of alcohol

The streets of Quantico buzzed with excitement as Halloween approached. Agent Spencer Reid couldn't help but feel the festive atmosphere of the crisp cold air and the smell of stale leaves. He normally found himself buried in case after case at this time of year, however, his good friend Garcia and Y/N had managed to convince him to attend a Halloween party at the office after a case. “And remember..” Garcia said, sternly, “…you HAVE to wear the costumes that will be provided by either myself or Morgan.” She gave a wink to the both of them, Their faces blush with anticipation as to what they might be.

As Halloween night arrived, Spencer found himself in front of BYU, nervously adjusting the costume that Morgan had him put on and making sure not to ruin any of the makeup Garcia did. Morgan chose Victor Van Dort, from Y/N’s favorite movie “The Corpse Bride”. They watched it together almost every Halloween, it was almost tradtion at this point. But surely a change might be good for both of them, especially after the case the crew just worked on. A typical serial killer basing her kills off of Michael Myers. Which took hours of work on all fronts in order to bring justice to the lives that were lost. As Spencer glides into the building he sees the big gathering in the office and stops. Time seems to slow down at the sight of Y/N, Her makeup done to resemble a blue corpse, with stunning Fx’s and a torn-up white bridal gown, dirtied with mud and coffee stains to make it seem older. She was Emily, his Emily. As the rest of the team look they are greeted with admiration and applause for their perfectly coordinated costume.

Y/N smiles, walks up to him, and holds out her hand. “Looks like we make a great pair, don't we?”

Spencer Chukled nervously, “I guess we do.”

The night was filled with laughter and joy. They danced, played games, and enjoyed each other's company like they always have done. They were, as always, in perfect sync, easily understanding each other in games and humor.

At one point, Y/N excused herself to get some drinks for the two of them, leaving Spence to talk to their other colleagues. As she walked to the bar she overheard two other people dressed as Barbie and Ken.

“My money’s on them becoming a real couple by the end of the night.”

Y/N blushed. There’s no way Spence would reciprocate her feelings right? What they had was something special, sure, but there was no way that she would want to ruin their relationship.

When she returned to Spencer’s side, she noticed he was engrossed in a conversation with another agent and dear friend, Derek Morgan. Spencer appeared somewhat distracted, but as soon as he saw Y/N, his eyes lit up.

‘Hey, you,” he said, smiling.

“Hey,” She replied, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach caused by his smile.

Eventually, the party’s host announced a couple's costume contest. Spencer and Y/N exchanged amused glances. They hadn’t really planned for this, but now they were unexpectedly part of the contest.

Y/N started to fidget a little, and with Spence noticing he leaned and whispered. “We don't have to do this if you don't want too, sugar.” Y/N looked up and blushed, noticing how close they were to each other faces, She smiled softly. “Why not? Could be fun.” He nodded, both their hearts fluttering with anticipation.

They stepped onto the makeshift stage, and the crowd cheered for them, standing together, shoulder to shoulder, hand grazing each other until Spencer held Y/N’s hand gently. When it was their turn to present themselves, Spencer couldn't help but get caught up in the moment.

“Hello, everyone. Sorry about this but I would like to make a small speech.” he paused, looking at Y/N before looking back out to the crowd. “Tonight, we honor the spirits of the past and I could of think of a better partner to do that than with Y/N,” he said, his voice sincere and filled with kindness.

Y/N eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat. She kept our composure and added, “We may not have planned this, but sometimes life surprises you with the best of partnerships.”

The crowd erupted into applause, and Spencer and Y/N won the contest hands down. They were awarded a cute trophy, which they shared as they posed for pictures together.

As the night wore on, everyone ended up sharing ghost stories and Spencer, in his natural enthusiasm, explained some historical context behind the tales, captivating everyone in the room. After the party ended and they all said their goodbyes, Spencer walked Y/N back home to her apartment. Hand in hand, still basking in the glory of the evening. Underneath the full moon, they shared a few lingering glances and smiles that spoke volumes. When they both arrived at the doorstep, Spencer hesitated for a moment before speaking. “You know Y/N…I didn't realize how much I truly enjoyed your company, and just how special you are to me,”, he admitted, cheeks flushing.

Y/N nodded, her heart now pounding. “Spence, you are so incredibly special to me too. More than you know-”

Before Y/N could finish her sentence Spencer leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. It was a sweet, tender moment. Y/N pulled back a bit, smiled, and asked “Do you want to come in? Watch some corpse bride with me?”

Spencer grinned, “of course, I would love that.”

All content © hufflepuffsandghosts 2023. Do not repost, modify, or claim my work as your own.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #x reader #fluff fic #SFW fic #ghost.fic #tw.alcohol

[p-antomime]

kiki 😓😓 please tell me something, for real anything with frat boy!katsuki </3

oh, anything? alright nonnie <3 gonna give you some hcs about frat boy!katsuki

୧ : tw.: non-consensul recording/filming, dubcon-ish, use of alcohol, hints of small age gap with both (him & reader) being 20+.

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who is not so interested in either dating or his own grades in college until he is called to the senior group that handles the arrival of new freshmen at college and he sees you being introduced to the uni by a girl he knows very well, ashido mina

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who tries to get any kind of information about you out of her, but she tells him to give up because she "knows what he intends to do," and, in reality, everybody knew — the moment kirishima and sero saw him staring at you across campus before class, they already knew that katsuki's mind was already beginning to reel

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who gets to know your name by asking a friend of yours who was also new in college, actually: she was your first and only friend there, so it was easy for him to say that he was looking for you because of student documentation

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who ends up approaching you on a day when he had to go to the library to get a book for denki, and you were there, busting your head trying to understand the notes you had made in a hurry during the morning class

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who is willing to help you understand the material, saying "bother? oh no, it won't be a bother for me, when I was a freshmen nobody helped me, so I want to do it for you" with a sideways smile

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who slowly manages to gain your trust, but doesn't introduce you to his group of friends, including mina, because she'd promptly want to keep you away from him — and, c'mon, he needs to keep you around so he can keep checking out your cleavage and/or your thighs under your skirt during the day and have good fap material to later at night with his hand around his cock wondering when he could get you to choke on it

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who couldn't stop fantasizing about dragging you to his bedroom at one of the frat parties so he could finally use you and send you back to the party with cum leaking from between your legs

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who convinces you to go to one of these parties on a Saturday as soon as he hears sero and denki talking about it

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who helps you get along with everyone at the party and tells you that if any guy messes with you just call him and he will take care of the asshole for you, and although he himself is not the best of influences, katsuki says it from the bottom of his heart; he would fight any motherfucker at that place for you

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who sees you drinking and joins you, just not to leave you alone, after all: it was your first college party! and it's better to be drinking with a friend... or not.

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who helps you up the stairs to one of the rooms, but barely manages to close it because he is also already drunk, which means that it was kept open the whole time he used to lay you down on the bed and start kissing you without finding much resistance — it wasn't as if you didn't find him attractive, but, definitely, the alcohol inside your system made you forget any and all rumors about katsuki using new college girls for a quick fuck and discarding them right afterwards

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who spent long minutes kissing and biting your tits until he left teeth marks all over your skin, after all, if you were not in full consciousness that day, those marks could remind you of who made them

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who made you cum several times, but only first with his fingers and mouth and he did it more for himself than for you: he wanted to memorize the sweet taste of your pussy as much as possible, to leave you throbbing for his dick because surely the next morning you wouldn't want to look him in the face

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who would fuck you without a condom if you hadn't mustered up all your dignity to gasp while he kissed you and ask him to use one

all right, frat boy!bakugo katsuki might do it this time, but the next time? no way, he'll fuck you raw, no condom, fuck you raw and fill you up with his sticky cum and then fuck it as deep as possible with his fingers

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who would put you in matting press and would talk about how cute you look having your little pussy totally ruined by a guy like him, how thankful you should be to have a veteran like him taking such good care of you

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who would cum deep in the condom, but when taking it off he would not only leave it on your crotch, with his white cream dripping over your sensitive pussy, but also take some of the liquid to draw a heart and write "Katsuki" on your tits

frat boy!bakugo katsuki who may or may not have taken pictures of you and recording everything while fucking you and while getting your breasts honeydewed in his cum, you honestly couldn't remember, too drunk for it; maybe you need to ask him about it the next day!

— bnha masterlist.

#bnha smut #bnha headcanons #katsuki bakugou smut #bakugou headcanons #bnha hcs #bakugo katsuki smut #bakugou katsuki smut #katsuki smut #mha smut #boku no hero smut #my hero academia smut #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bakugo headcanons #mha hcs #tw.filming #tw.dubcon #tw.alcohol #tw.age gap #katsuki x fem!reader #bakugou x fem!reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader

[writtenwillow]

Muse ⇥ Louis Piquet, 21-28, He/Him, Bisexual, Underground Fighter/Dealer. Connection ⇥ Fling that's becoming something a little more serious... something Louis fears/doesn't really understand because he isn't big on relationships. Plot ⇥ In honor of SPOTIFY WRAPPED, send me a number 1-100 and I'll write you a starter based on the song. You chose #28 (Sympathy by To Close To Touch) for no specified muses. Open To  ⇥ Closed starter for @musicallyiinclined.

"There's a sickness living inside me... you can spare me all your sympathy." Louis spoke as he stood in the doorway to Tanner's apartment. Perhaps he shouldn't have shown up to the mans house unannounced with no idea if his roommate was home or not but he couldn't help himself. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or maybe the fact that he had mixed it with a Xanax or two but the man was allowing his feelings to get the better of him and at the moment they were devouring him, forcing his fight or flight instincts to kick in and Louis had long ago decided that flight wasn't an option anymore.

#|Louis Piquet ● Tanner Haywood| #|Louis Piquet ● Threads| #[ooc - When I saw this was the song you got I couldn't not do them... this song simply screams Louis.] #tw.alcohol #tw.drugs

[woahjo]

best friend tendou is so odd. he's so odd. and he's so obsessed with you and he won't say anything. he's really been there for you through everything. pregnancy scares, black outs, breakups, birthdays, all of it, ever since the beginning of college. it's wrong to want you like this, but he does and he's so fucking obsessed with you he could die. he can't help it. and he sort of gets off on how wrong it feels... well, that and to the thought of you fantasizing about him, hand covering your slick center.

thinks all the time about what it would be like if you came onto him. if you crawled on all fours across the bedspread until your face was just in front of his and whispered that you know he thinks about you when he touches himself. tendou thinks constantly about what your eyes look like when you want to fuck someone, when you want to make them feel like a pervert for thinking exactly what you want them to. he can't stop.

he's seen you play with men like toys, teasing and taunting, and all he can thing about is being the next toy you play with. watching you with narrowed eyes and a slick smile while you go on and on and on about the most recent guy you're fucking. meanwhile, he's thinking about what it would be like if you leaned over and asked him if he wanted to be next.

#tendou x reader #oooooohhhhhh im going to die i think #im going to pass away really hard and fast #i need him... #i can't emphasize that enough #my loverboy. my angel. light of my life #weird freak thing i keep in a desk drawer and pull out to squeeze really hard #tw.pregnancy mentions #tw.alcohol #tw.teasing #tw.implied humiliation #best friend tendou you will always be famous #char.tendou #cal.writing

[maliciouslove]

Beware of Hammock

ʚ pairing: slimeball denki x f!reader 

ʚ prompt: hammock 

ʚ word count: 1.1k

ʚ warnings: tw dubcon, tw alcohol consumption, tw weed mention, implied public sex, a bit lot of humiliation, compromising photos, not beta read, hammock

ʚ submission for the wet hot slimeball collab hosted by @bastardblvd :]

ʚ AN: well that was a fun little one hour writing challenge! as usual, thank you to merc and cassie for organizing and continuously giving me motivation and inspiration to create

The music blares as Denki fills everyone’s shot glasses with tequila. His best mate and emergency get-out-after-a-hookup contact Shinsou “the smoke” Hitoshi sitting next to him on the table cradling a fat joint, sitting amongst the rest of the infamous UA slut gang — Touya “the slut elder” Todorki, Katsuki “anger issues” Bakugo, Ochako “the crime lord” Uraraka, Mina “the dominatrix” Ashido, Sero “infinity rizz” Hanta and Eijirou “the cumbucket” Kirishima, the notoriously hung fratboy host of this party.

The third round of “never have I ever” is now ready to begin as Ochako lifts her shot glass above her head, commanding attention. 

“Never have I ever… had sex mid day at a beach party…” The brunette looks pointedly at her chair neighbour. “And filmed it.”

With a wolfish smile Touya downs his shot followed by a hissing sound as the liquid burns down his throat. Surprisingly (but not really) Kiri also downs his shot, and with a smug smile — so does Ochako. 

“The way this keeps going I’m gonna be shitfaced in under ten minutes.” Touya complains, slamming his shot glass down at the table, but the rest of the slut gang just laugh. They know he’d be shitfaced in ten minutes regardless of the game, as poor Touya has too many daddy issues to not attempt to drown them in booze.

“Mate, I gotta know, fer science n’ all — what is the worst or weirdest place you’ve had sex?” Denki asks with curiosity spaekling in his eyes. 

He’d never admit it but he looks up to Touya in a very sick and twisted way. It’s his biggest wish to one day have a body count as high as his. That scoreboard hidden in his locker at Slimebucks mocks him daily and reminds him of his noble goal to be a bigger slut than Touya himself.

After a pause to think, the eldest Todoroki confidently states: 

“On a fucking hammock. The logistics are just..” Touya can only shake his head in disapproval as the memory flashes before his eyes. He shudders. 

Kirishima lands a heavy hand on Touya’s back. 

“Can’t be that bad, can it?” 

There is a horrified look in Touya’s eyes as he clasps dramatically Kirishima’s hand in his, pulling him close to his face as if to emphasize his point. 

“Do not. Ever. Attempt. To fuck. On a hammock.” The black haired man pours himself another tequila shot and downs it. “Learn from my mistakes.”

These words of wisdom resonate in Denki’s head long after the game of “never have I ever” ended with Touya emptying the contents of his stomach under the table, unable to keep his liquor down any longer. 

Learn from my mistakes. 

But Denki could do more! He could better Touya’s mistakes, he had the confidence that he could pull of what Touya himself couldn’t. Moving through the crowds of people dancing he spots something from the corner of his eye — a hammock. 

Devious grin plastered on his face, the blonde quickly gathers up the unoccupied hammock, considering the logistics of Kirishima’s place and figuring out the best at least semi-private place he could hang up the hammock and the easiest prey he can catch to test said hammock out. 

Twenty or so minutes later he has the hammock set up behind a shed and he proceeds to the second part of a plan — finding himself a pretty pussy to fuck. And as if the Gods of Sex heard his prayers, the crowd seems to part like the Red Sea opening a path to you — the shy, but now quite drunk new girl. 

Within seconds he has an arm around your waist, twirling you and pushing you close to him as he dances right behind you, smugly enjoying the feel of your ass grinding against him.

“Didin’t think you’d make it today, pretty girl.” He whispers in your ear, partly to be seductive, partly because it was loud as balls. 

“Mina convinced me, said Kiri throws the wildest paries and it’s apparently illegal to miss them.” You giggle and with your confidence levels raised by the alcohol you turn, tits pressed to Denki’s chest and arms draped around his shoulders. 

“Well thank fuck for Mina, huh.” 

It’s easy to charm you, a gentle touch here, a whisper and a chaste kiss there, under half an hour and Denki had you wrapped around his finger, pulling you by the wrist as you giggle and follow him behind the shack where he had set up. 

Resting in a sort of sitting position on the hammock he beckons you closer with two fingers, and chock full of giddiness and alcohol you follow, letting him wrap his hands around your middle, his face resting between your tits as a playful hand squeezes your ass that is deliciously spilling out of your jean shorts. 

The alcohol has made you pliable, a cute ragdoll for him to play with. Skimpy top pulled roughly down to expose your pretty tits to him, he bites and sucks your nipples, taking whatever he wants from you as the hammock swings back and fort gently suspended in the air. The more he squishes your soft flesh, the more eager he gets. Fuck, it had been a while since his last conquest. 

The scoreboard in his locker mocks him once more. 

When he feels your hand unbuttoning his jeans and reaching for his now fully hard cock he cannot contain himself anymore — he needs to feel your clench around his cock now. 

Forgetting about the location and unusual bed replacement he’s using, he confidently (too confidently) pulls you onto his lap, only for the hammock to betray him and twist under the weight of both of you, gravity adding to this nightmare scenario as you both end up on the grass face first. 

You crawl out from the tangles mess, rubbing at your face where it had made contact with the grass and cover yourself up in the process, suddenly way too sober and aware of your actions.

Cock out and ass in the air as his neck strains to support his upper body, Denki is still tangled in the hammock, groaning in his futile attempt to stand upright and far away from the wretched hammock. 

A bright flash startles both of you followed by loud cheering and laughter. “I knew you were gonna try that, you fucking dweeb.” Touya laughs, snapping a few more pictures before Denki gets hismelf out from the compromising position, tucking his dick back into his jeans as quickly as he could. “Listen to me next time — don’t fuck on a god damn hammock.”

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

#unholytext.exe #denki kaminari x reader #denki x reader #kaminari x reader #denki kaminari smut #denki smut #kaminari smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw.dubcon #tw.alcohol #slimeball denki #slimeball barista denki #slimebarista denki

[croimilis]

✴ 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭

the top gun maverick character taking care of you when you’re drunk

❊ characters: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw, jake ‘hangman’ seresin, robert ‘bob’ floyd, 

❊ warnings: alcohol consumption, drunknenes, mentions of makeup and hells but no specific pronouns used, established relationship 

❊ word count:  listed with each character 

❊ a/n: the inspiration for this comes from the fact that I was drunk  and wanted nothing more than one of the top gun characters (and my boyfriend) to look after me. i also loved doing this type of writing, it was really helpful for preventing burnout with my longer pieces, and i am open for headcanon requests. 

✾ bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw [375]

the biggest baby when you’re leaving. pouts and gives you puppy dog eyes as you’re leaving to try and get you not to leave but will still give you a kiss as you walk out the door or as he drops you off. he will text you throughout the night to make sure your safe and happy and the minute you text him saying you wanna go home or if there is any change in the way your texting that puts him on edge, he’s immediately leaving to go and pick you up wherever you may be. when he collects you, he’s all goofy smiles and sweet forehead kisses as he gently ushers you into the car, saying his goodbyes to your friends and checking in to make sure they all have ways home and even offering to drop them home if they don’t. what happens when you get in the car depends, if you’re hungry and need something greasy that just hits the spot Rooster will not hesitate to take you to get food, but if you just wanna go home and get into bed then he’ll head there straight away. when you do get home, he watches amused as you struggle to get your heels off, stumbling through the hall and into the living room where you slump onto the sofa and start fighting with the flimsy strap but he wouldn’t let you struggle for long, bending down beside you and taking your shoes off for you placing a gentle kiss to your ankle as he does. he would then, despite your protests, carry you to the bedroom bridal style and place you gently on the bed, turning around to let you take your clothes off while he grabs your favourite pyjamas from the drawer, if you’re struggling with zipers or buttons bradley will gladly help you. once your changed and tucked under the bed he goes and fills up a glass of water and grabs some advil, which he places on the bedside table on your side with a sweet kiss to your forehead. he then gets into bed beside you, where he holds you close to his chest and rubs gentle circles on your arms to help you get to sleep.

✾ jake ‘hangman’ seresin [556 words]

much like bradley, jake is pouting and whining and trying to make you stay, even going so far as to pull you in for a deep kiss and messing up your lipstick just before you leave, which earns him a slap to the shoulder before you go and fix it. he’ll even come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, placing soft kisses on your neck and shoulder, smirking to himself because he thinks he’s won. but then you turn and press a soft kiss to his check, leaving behind a lipstick stain and suddenly your out the door and he’s left gobsmacked. and isn’t that he doesn’t want you to go out with your friends, he wants you to go have fun and let loose a little you just looked so damn good in your outfit and heels and he may have wanted you all to himself for the night just so he could ravish you. nevertheless, jake sits with his feet up watching an old movie with his phone on his chest so he could feel it vibrate, checking it every time it does to see if you’ve text him or are calling him to come pick you up. once the text asking him to pick you up comes through, he’s out the door like a shot and at your location as quick as possible. when he gets there, he’s has a smug little smile on his face as he remembers all the time you’ve chastised him for being too drunk and now here you are, just as bad or maybe even worse than he’s ever been and he is so not gonna let you forget that in the morning, in fact he takes photos and videos of your drunk ramblings so he has proof (that he quickly deletes the next morning when you ask him to). once he’s had his fun and said goodbye to your friends, he helps you into the car and buckles your belt for you. as he drives, he’ll take your hand in his and rub gentle circles over your knuckles while the other is on the steering and he listens intently as you ramble about the drama in the morning (storing the information away to get a more coherent story in the morning time), and when he pulls up to your home (even if you’re fully awake and coherent) he will throw you over his shoulder and carry you into your home. before he puts you to bed, he places you on the counter in the bathroom and takes your makeup off for you, peppering you with gentle kisses as he does, and brushes your hair for you so it isn’t a tangled mess in the morning. when that’s all done, he helps you out of your heels and outfit (throwing it into the washing basket in the bathroom) before carrying you koala-style into the bedroom and gently placing you on the bed where your pyjamas are already lead out. though he knows you can dress yourself, he helps. once your dressed, he crawls into bed with you and holds you against his chest where you fall asleep listening to his heartbeat. it isn’t until the morning that he realises he didn’t leave out water and painkillers, but he’s lucky he’s awake before you and their sitting there when you finally wake in the morning. 

✾ robert ‘bob’ floyd [473 words]

bob is the sweetest man, giving you gentle kisses before you go out and being so careful so he doesn’t mess up your makeup and i think out of all of them, bob is the most prepared when you go out drinking. before you even leave the house, you agree on a time for him to come and pick you up and if you want him to come earlier you have a code word that you text him and he will be there as quick as he can. in both cases, he’s throwing your comfiest pyjamas into the tumble dryer before he leaves the house so their nice and warm for you coming in and he’s already filled your favourite bottle with water and ice and put in the fridge, he’s double checking to make sure you have pain killers in your medicine drawer and if you don’t he’s stopping at one of those 24hr stores to pick some up because he knows you’ll need some in the morning. when he arrives at the club or bar where your drinking, he’s quick to find you and guide you outside to the car with his arms wrapped around your waist and carefully sits you in the care, legs sticking out so he can take your shoes of for you. once your shoes are off, he's throwing them into the back seat to be tomorrows problem and buckling you into the car. while he drives, he has a hand on your thigh, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb as a reminder for you that he was there. unlike bradley, he will not take you to get food but will insist on getting you home and into bed but he promises to order in the greasiest breakfast he can find in the morning. once your home, almost asleep in the passenger side, he scoops you up into his arms and carries you into the house and straight into bed where he lets you undress while he grabs your pyjamas out of the tumble dryer and brings them to you, again leaving you to get dresses in peace while he grabs the water bottle from the fridge and two pain killers for the morning. when he gets back into the room, you’re curled up tightly under the blanket and struggling to keep your eyes open so he just places the water and pain killers on the bedside before placing a soft kiss on your forehead before going into the bathroom and grabbing on of your makeup wipes, which he uses to rub most of your makeup of as gently as he can once he’s done he starts preparing for bed himself. by the time he crawls in, your already fast asleep, but he’s quick to wrap his arms around you and bring your back into his chest.

#aodhan.writes #headcanons #top gun maverick headcanons #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley 'rooseter' bradshaw x reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert 'bob' floyd x reader #robert 'bob' floyd x you #tw.alcohol #tw.drunk #tw.makeup #tw.heels

[rinneverse]

college roommate!itadori yuuji who has to hold himself back every time he sees you because he’s a gentleman.

roommate!yuuji who condemns himself for being such a pervert when he sees you saunter into the living room in a small tank top and a skimpy pair of shorts and can’t help the erection he gets—and he has to hide it from view, because you’re approaching him with that pretty smile of yours to see if he wants to get takeout tonight.

roommate!yuuji who, after a night out at the bar with kugisaki and fushiguro, returns home with you—both absolutely smashed—and he decides to damn it all to hell and make out with you on the couch because you just look so damn good in that miniskirt you’re wearing.

#oakie rambles #and if i said i was writing this fic right now as we speak #so much yuuji on the dash lately it’s been inspiring #HES SO YUMMY #oak needs water… #tw.alcohol

[minhavn]

BULLY BEOMGYU!!!

yes

"You whore!"

Beomgyu hissed into your ear, groping your left breast through your thin crop top as he trapped you under his figure on his bed.

Under the influence of the drug he slipped into your drink, it wasn't easy for you to recognise his face and voice, experiencing the moment as if it was a fever dream where everything could happen with no rules to hold your sanity.

Hooking his thumb under your miniskirt and lingerie, he took them off swiftly and undressed you under a minute — staring at your curves as he traced them with his palm, memorising the moment that you would never remember.

"If only you could shut the fuck up and dress up like a nun you were."

He gritted his teeth, spreading your legs wide enough to show him the view of your glistening folds, running his fingers and began to circle your clit with his thumb before spreading your hole wider and pushed two digits inside, coating them with your juice as he pressed your sweet spot and pulled them out.

"Then, this would never happen."

He smirked, smearing your juice over your chest as he pushed his cock inside — watching how your eyes lit up with excitement he never found whenever you saw in at the college, pinning your hips onto the sheet as he began to toy with your clit while his tip hitting and rubbing against your cervix.

"Aww, begging for more, aren't you?"

He chuckled darkly, watching you licking your fingers and playing with your clit before cumming for a few times on his cock as he filled you up — pulling out to look at the pooling cum under your now puffed up pussy before taking a picture inside a gallery and named it as 'day 23'.

#yijin — hard hour #yijin — dark contents #txt smut #beomgyu smut #tw.slut shaming #tw.alcohol #tw.drugs #tw.noncon #tw.record