#how to make spiked cocoa

[fordragonfliesandme]

Cheers to the Holidays: Unleash Your Inner Mixologist with These Yummy Drinks~ with non-alcoholic variations!

[luvrxbunny]

little spider

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Innocence

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader knows nothing about sex or feelings of arousal, clothed clit-rubbing? cum in pants, small feelings of embarrassment (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.3k

A/N: sorry im late but im kinda proud of this one so i hope it was worth the wait! <3

Miguel didn’t think he’d end up in this position, nowhere in his wildest, most perverted fantasies did he think that this would actually be the outcome of him recruiting you but… here we are. 

You were assigned by the higher-ups to learn from him, they thought you had potential, and honestly? Miguel hated you when he met you, he felt like they were punishing him for something, that assigning him this raw recruit was just a flaunt of power. You didn't even have a suit he had to make you one, a trial suit first, to make sure all your vitals were good, to track your movements and decide what suit material would be best- or if you would have a digital one like him. 

During the weeks of his monitoring of your vitals, he began to grow a bit fond of you. You were an adorable recruit and eager to please, you were thoughtful and always gave your all, something he really appreciates. One other thing he noticed about you… your dopamine levels were elevated around him, along with your estradiol and testosterone. He ignores it when he’s writing his reports, he tells himself that he doesn’t report it because the higher-ups don't need to know, not because he knows they’d make you transfer… He should’ve requested it the first time he noticed it but the thought of you, his sweet, innocent spider, all turned on just from being around him? It ignited something in him. 

He updated your suit, saying that the data he was receiving wasn't enough, he made you wear the suit as he replaced the chip and tried to hide the smile in his voice when your spine straightened under his touch. The new chip could give him real-time tracking of all your vitals, but he set his watch to alert him anytime certain hormones spiked… estradiol and testosterone. So he conducted a little experiment over the following weeks, he’d lean into you more when you speak, holding your eye contact, he even broke out the smirk he used to use on girls when he was younger, and it worked on you. 

His watch vibrated every time he was near you, if he walked up to you, it started being an alert to when you were near, it’d go off before you’ve even approached him, he’d walk into a room and it’d go off before he even saw you. It started to have an effect on him, he started to feel a spark in his stomach every time it went off, every time he’d meet your eyes and you’d have that expression he’d grown to know so well. That weak, almost pleading- yet confused look in your eyes and the sheer panic before tearing them away from his. He started having to grip whatever was in his hands as tightly as he could to control himself when you’re breathing would stutter after he complimented you on your work. 

He started getting hard reviewing your logs after spending the day with you, watching your heart rate stay elevated, spiking along with your hormones, he can see your breathing pattern, and how irregular it is compared to when you’re not with him. How high your body temperature was… the main areas of heat. On his more weak days, he’s gotten himself off to the diagram of you, with the burning red spot between your legs as the focus of his fantasies. 

Now you’re here, avoiding his gaze as his watch vibrates like crazy. “Miguel?” He looks at you again, trying to keep his gaze neutral, hopefully, to make this a bit easier on you… and him. “Yes?” 

His voice is smooth as cocoa butter and you can feel his gaze burning into you. He started this heat inside you, one you’d never encountered before. It starts when you see him in the morning and doesn’t stop until you struggle to sleep- or at least it used to. But recently it’s been non-stop, a constant distraction that you can’t pinpoint, it feels like it’s in your hips, stomach, chest, and thighs all at once. It feels like it’s in his breath when it fans over your face, it's in his eyes when they lock with yours, and somehow on his fingertips when they brush over any part of you. You’ve spent hours a night trying to figure out what you can do about it, you’ve thought about even asking Lyla but decided the risk of her telling Miguel was far too great.  

This past week it’s just been building on it’s self, almost unbearable with Miguel’s new immersive training. He takes you away to some deserted, closed-off place and trains you with no distractions, giving you nothing to focus on other than him and forcing him to give all his attention to you. Miguel’s attention, his gaze is what causes the most… pain. That’s what it’s become, a dull, numb, thrumming at the base of your stomach, like an itch you can’t scratch that just becomes a nuisance. You couldn’t handle it anymore and if you asked Lyla she’d just tell Miguel- so why not just ask him directly? 

So here you are, avoiding his gaze because you’ve spent the entire day with him, building enough fire inside you- you don’t need to add any more. “I think…” You take a breath and turn to him a bit before forcing the words out. “There’s something wrong with me.” He puts his clipboard down, his concern, and his thick, veiny hand that comes into view piles onto the heat over-taking your bloodstream. He takes his glasses off and sits back in his chair, reaching his leg out to pull a chair beside you closer to him. You dare a glance at him and try not to collapse at his gaze, at the way his hair moves over his face for a moment as he motions for you to sit in the provided chair.

You sigh and sit down, your legs pressed tightly together, your palms resting on your thighs and your eyes focused on the back of your hands. You stay silent, your mind racing, your body warming further at the feeling of his eyes on you. “What’s wrong, little spider?” You suppress a shiver at the nickname as goosebumps rise over your skin, it’s been a problem since he picked it. “I’m hot.” The words shoot out of your mouth before you can second-guess them again. Miguel chuckles a bit, sending embarrassment through your body, sits back in his chair, and crosses his arms, prompting you to go on. 

“I can’t fix it. There’s… someone.” Miguel pretends he doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to him. “For some reason, something about them just- “ You pause for a moment, truly baffled by the way you feel, trying to find some way to explain it. “They just do something to me and it won’t stop.” Your words start to sound frantic, a bit panicked. Miguel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees to examine your expression. “It’s like there's a low- like a low vibration- or a frequency? Like the ones that are so low you can barely hear but you can sorta feel them? It’s like that but- but deep inside me.”

Your eyes close and eyebrows furrow as you describe the feeling to him. He tries to keep his breathing even as he hardens uncontrollably under the suit. You don’t even realize what you’re confessing to him. “Like it’s in my bones, Miguel.” You add emphasis, your hands digging into the material of your suit before raising your head to meet his eyes, hoping he understands the state you’re in. He’s almost dizzy at the way his blood rushes to his cock. He holds your gaze and tries to convey a baffled, thoughtful expression as he tries to calm himself. 

“That’s- That’s odd. Yeah, um.” He takes a few deep breaths before sitting back again, unable to stay in your space any longer. “Do- Can you tell me who’s causing it? Perhaps it’s a side effect of their powers?” Your spine straightens and you shake your head at him gently. You twist your fingers in the fabric of your suit and your feet play with each other on the lab floor. “H-have you heard of any powers like that?” You ask him, a hopeful look in your eyes. 

Clever girl.

“No, I haven't.” He sits back, spreads his legs, and runs his hands down his thighs and back with a sigh. He holds back a smirk when his watch vibrates and he hears you take a sharp breath. “I- I don’t know what to do anymore. It- I can barely sleep.” You sound distraught, broken, and tired. He’d be the messed up one if he didn't help you… Right?

“I mean… I can try running some tests?” He offers, he keeps his tone light, trying to keep his dark desires off your radar. You perk up at his offer, already up and out of your seat, standing in front of him with a smile. He keeps his eyes on you, trying to ignore the way your scent is assaulting his nose, giving away how badly you need him. “You think we could?”

He nods and stands up, walking over to his lab table and clearing a few things. His head is already running wild with fantasies, ideas of what he could do to you, what he could teach you, how good he could make you feel. “Yeah, of course. C’mere, pequeña araña” You were already walking to him but your pace stutters and his watch vibrates when the nickname slips out. He truly didn’t mean to, he had gotten a bit too deep in his fantasies, and when your voice broke through he didn’t get fully pulled out. He’s never called you that in Spanish, not to your face at least, it’s fallen from his lips a few times before though, when he’s alone with his hand wrapped around his cock. But your reaction dissuades any fear that had shot through him before and he can’t help the smirk that makes its way on his face. 

You’re standing silently beside him, wringing your hands together and he doesn’t think you even notice the way your thighs keep clenching together. “Get on the table.” His tone is teasing, a grin on his face as you jump and scramble onto the tabletop. You lay on your back and look over at Miguel, feeling that heat rage through you at the look on his face. It’s dark and- wanting. It’s confusing. 

He takes a deep breath and your fingers try to dig into the metal table top as he walks to you. “Okay. I’m going to examine your body a bit, press into some muscles, some pressure points to see if maybe it’s a physical trigger. Is that okay with you?” Your chest is already rising and falling more rapidly at the thought, the promise of Miguel’s hands on you. You nod at him stiffly, trying to stay normal and calm as he holds your eye contact, nodding along with you. A small smile graces his face before he walks around and presses his palm into your hairline, pushing your head down to rest on the table as he stands north of you. 

His hands press into your shoulders and your eyes shut tight. He can feel all your muscles tense and his watch vibrates, he sneaks a peak at his and sees the huge spike in almost all your vitals. His cock twitches in his suit at your obvious need but he brushes it aside, if he rushes into this he might scare you off and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that happens. He may lose his mind. He moves his hands to your biceps, massaging them tightly as little whines slip into your breaths, only audible to his ears. 

He walks back to the side of the tables and your eyes stay shut. He massages the softness of your sides and his breathing kicks up a bit once he gets to your hips. He takes his time with them, admiring the way you fit into his hands and how you subconsciously tilt them toward him. His thighs jump as his cock begins to leak, dripping precum down them. He takes a deep, shaky breath and forces himself to move on. He forced himself to move on, he was trying to take it slow, hopefully, you’d realize where you need him and ask for it. But your thighs spread open when he massages the outside and his hands dive for the inner before he can think it through. 

You gasp, you sit up with your eyes wide and your hands gripping his wrists. You don’t do anything though, he expects you to pull his hands away but it feels more like you’re holding him there, stopping- or attempting to stop him from pulling away. So of course he doesn't. He stares into your eyes as you search his, trying to figure out if he realizes the way that made you feel, if your cover was blown, if he wants to stop but he looks expectant, like he’s waiting for something. So you loosen your grip. “That’s- I think that’s- ” You’re nodding at him lightly, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say because for some reason your brain has stopped working. 

“Yeah?” Your heart stutters at his tone and the tilt of his head as he says it. Your thighs tense around his hand for a moment before you try to calm down, un-tense them but they can’t help the way they tremble with anticipation. You’re nodding at him more frantically and his eyelids flutter. “Okay.” He takes one hand out from between your thighs and rests it on your lower back as his other hand keeps massaging, slowly moving up your inner thigh and the sensations grow more intense the higher he gets. 

Your eyes shut and your hands grip his wrists again, not pulling away, just holding him. Your eyes shut and your hips tilt into his hand, getting him so close to your pussy that he can feel the heat radiating off of her. You feel some sort of shame twinge in your belly, dampening the more intense feelings that Miguel was causing. What if this was wrong? What if you aren’t supposed to feel like this with him, without him knowing… Maybe you should stop. 

Miguel moves further up and all those thoughts scatter from your head immediately. His watch vibrates again and a noise shoots out of your mouth- one you’ve never heard before as your body folds over and your head rests on his shoulder. You shut your eyes tight and take a slow, deep breath. “Sorry. Sorry, I-” He cuts you off. “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here, right?” He’s nodding at you, comforting and reassuring as his hand leaves your back to cradle your head. “You’re okay. I wanna help you, cariño.” Another noise leaves you at the nickname and his hand grips into your hair for a moment before sliding down to your neck and pulls your head away from his shoulder. He pushes your head against his for a moment, letting out a soft groan before letting go and pushing his fingers against your plush lips. 

“How’s that, honey?” His hand settles back on your lower back as you whine and your hands move up his arm, gripping his biceps now and pulling yourself closer to him. “Miguel.” His eyes roll back at how you sound, desperate, breathless, and gone. Your hips are grinding into his fingers and they aren’t even on your clit yet. They’re pressing against your hole through your lips and your suit, he’s keeping his fingertips flat against you so he doesn’t slip inside. 

He’s trying to ignore the mess he’s making in his pants, watching your tense face change into a relieved one, your eyebrows pulling inward as your lips part beautifully, releasing a shaky moan as he reangles his fingers to your clit. His hands are shaking as he tries to calm himself down, one of your hands slides up his arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before gripping onto his shoulder and pulling him down, closer to your face. His eyes are fixed on your expression, taking everything in, every twitch and quiver, the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips before a whimper punches out of you. 

You’re ruining him and you’re none the wiser. Your hand slides up to his neck and you push your forehead against his, like he did earlier. His eyes roll back before he forces them to you again, moving his fingers over you clit faster when your thighs begin to shake around his wrist. “I think-” Your voice comes out as a whimper and he groans into you. Your fingers grip into his hair and his cock cries against him. “Something… Miguel.” 

The way you say his name fucks with him. It’s prettier than he ever could’ve imagined, he has to lean forward and press his throbbing cock against the edge of the table for relief. You’ve got him feeling like he could die, like he could implode if he doesn’t have you, if after this you realize what you need but get it somewhere else? It’ll be over for him. Your hand readjusts its grip in his hair, becoming more frantic as your spine straightens and your thighs close on his hands. “Miguel? I-” You cut yourself off with a moan and your head falls to his shoulder again, blocking your face from his view.

“No, no.” He brings his hand to the back of your neck again. “Let me see, amor.” He pulls you away from his shoulder and you moan at the nickname. Once again, it didn’t mean to slip out but you’ve got his head so cloudy he can’t help it. You’re moaning his name on repeat, like a warning and he’s pulsing at the thought, the promise of getting to see you cum, for him. His eyes can’t look away from you, he can’t see anything but your face, the way your brows furrow as you tense, and your nails dig into his arms, leaving reminders for later. He watches how you bite your lip before your jaw drops into an ‘O’ shape and his name falls from your lips one more time as a debauched cry. 

He keeps his eyes open, watching you cum for him, how your lips form around his name again and again. He wants to collapse, fall to his knees with how much you’re turning him on but he needs to watch you. He forces himself to keep his eyes on you, ignoring the way they want to roll back at how he’s flooding his pants. His hips twitch against the edge of the table as he cums for you, with you. His mind zeros into the way he can feel your clit pulsing underneath his finger tips, how breathless you sound, trying to keep up with the noises he’s forcing from you. His stomach tenses painfully as his cock unloads more cum onto himself. You sound like an angel, crying out for him. He can’t help the way he dives for you, pulling you in to kiss him and swallowing every moan you’ll give him. 

You whine into his mouth as his fingers slow down over your clit, your other hand meets the first in his hair and you keep his lips on yours. He keeps kissing you until you calm down and your breathing evens out. His hand comes from between your thighs and rubs your legs until you pull back from his lips. You have a bashful, embarrassed look on your face and it brings the largest smile that you’ve ever seen to his face. “Was that okay, pequeña araña?” You whine and pull him in for a hug, nodding into his shoulder as he chuckles and wraps his arms around you as you begin to giggle against him.      

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[vanilladove]

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ christmas w/ the bsd men .ᐟ

⍋⋆*❅ pairing: various bsd men x gn!reader [dazai, atsushi, ayatsuji, ranpo, fukuzawa, kunikida, chuuya, akutagawa, oda, ango, nikolai, fyodor, sigma, shibusawa, jouno, tecchou]

⍋⋆*❅ genre: fluffy headcanons (some crack again hehe)

⍋⋆*❅ content warnings: none! also headcanons are focused more on cultural/winter festivity aspects of christmas, not the religious ones (except for mentions in fyodor's part)

⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐘

⁺⋆*❅ dazai osamu

you both decide to go out and explore the city!

purposely stops under every mistletoe around town to makeout with you (he somehow knows where all of them are...)

you go bar hopping to try different holiday drinks like spiked eggnog, cranberry mimosas, and whiskey sours

after you both get super drunk, he takes you out to the town square and twirls you around so you're both dancing under the fresh snow and moonlight

you make christmas cards for everyone with custom stamps and bake christmas cookies to gift (he sets aside the ugly cards + burnt cookies to give to mori/the port mafia)

⁺⋆*❅ atsushi nakajima

something cute to heal your inner child

he takes you sledding, and you scream the whole time from how fast you both go

atsushi tries to help all the kids at the bottom of the hill who wipe out (awwww)

you don't tell him, but his nose gets super red from the cold and you think it's really cute

you get hot chocolate on the way back and spend the night talking by the fireplace (he got you both matching pjs)

⁺⋆*❅ ayatsuji yukito

christmas = the perfect opportunity to dress you up, either as a slavic doll or mr./mrs. claus

escorted by security and a sniper ofc, you both go to the mall and shop around (mostly so he can buy more clothes and accessories for you)

you both get some eggnog and take photobooth pictures at the mall

before he gives you your presents back at home, he pulls you into his lap and makes you tell him if you've been naughty or nice like he's santa lol

does the pocky thing with you but uses a candy cane o///o

gifts you all the shopping bags full of clothes he bought for you at the mall

⁺⋆*❅ ranpo edogawa

ofc it's all about sweets so you build gingerbread houses

ranpo can't build one so he ends up eating his and all of the candy you bought

you both make more sweets from scratch (ranpo probably quits halfway through bc he burnt the gingerbread cookies), so it's just you lol

you decorate christmas cookies and make candy cane hot cocoa and eggnog

after voicing your concerns about having too many sweets and baked goods, ranpo assures you that they'll be added to his snack collection/vault and there's no need to share them with everyone else

⁺⋆*❅ fukuzawa yukichi

doesn't like to celebrate much--he originally wanted to go to a cat cafe, but it was closed bc of the holiday :(

he planned on having a cozy christmas dinner with you and some other members of the doa instead at the office (definitely not bc he also still has work to finish)

somehow, ranpo convices the both of you to dress up as mr. & mrs. claus and you have a whole photoshoot at the office

you end the night at a secluded onsen with some warm tea 😌

⁺⋆*❅ kunikida doppo

basically the karen/soccer mom of christmas. he has an itenerary planned out and you're sticking to it.

you start by unwrapping presents by the tree⎯he gets you something you've had your eye on for a while, since he knows you wouldn't buy it with your own money (so he bought it for you)

i can't explain it but he def has the perfect ugly sweater that he only pulls out and wears on christmas

you then go to do something cute outside, deliver presents to the other doa members (he gives dazai bandages + coal...)

probably the type to refuse to go into their houses/apartments bc he doesn't want to waste too much time (he lowk caves in tho)

at the end of the day, you both visit a pretty christmas lights show

⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀

⁺⋆*❅ chuuya nakahara

chuuya is extra so he goes all out with decorations. he fills the house with poinsettias and a huge christmas tree (he has to use gravity to put all the ornaments on it lol)

you make a special mulled wine together

he takes you out a nice fancy dinner (ofc he bought you a beautiful red suit/dress to go along)

sings for you by the fireplace hehe

the tree is full of gifts when you get home (don't ask him how much he spent, just be appreciative that chuuya's your lover 🤫)

⁺⋆*❅ akutagawa ryunosuke

lowk hates the cold but wants to make u happy so he goes out with you to a christmas market

you both get a matching black scarf and glove set

u go to a curios and antiques store (one of his fav places!) and stop to get some hot tea

akutagawa is constantly blushing bc of ur cuteness, and when u kiss him under a mistletoe, he turns beet red but insists it's just the cold

periodically hugs you "for warmth" and definitely not bc he gets jealous of other people looking at you

when you get back home, you both take a warm bath and cuddle by the fire, and he gifts you a special antique item he secretly bought from the store ♡

⁺⋆*❅ oda sakunosuke

christmas dinner with the kiddos

gets everyone matching ugly sweaters and you both fill the kids' stockings while they make snow angels outside

you go to the mall to take the kids to meet and take pictures with santa

you all bake and decorate gingerbread houses and christmas cookies together

his present for you is a wedding ring, and the kids are beyond excited to have you as their other parent

you all fall asleep watching a christmas movie

⁺⋆*❅ ango sakaguchi

he was forced to take work off bc of the holiday, but he's relieved that he gets to spend more time with you

he takes you to a fancy christmas ball that's being thrown by some government officials

he gets a little tipsy and can't stop complimenting how nice you look in your dress/suit, and how grateful he is to have you as his partner

when you finally dance together, you swear it's the most lively you've seen him look⎯he has that glow in his eyes ^u^

firm believer that he gets super clingy when he hasn't seen you in a while, so during dinner he pulls you into his lap to eat and always has a hand on you

when you both finally go home after a long night out, he gives you a present, which is a nice watch/bracelet

⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒

⁺⋆*❅ fyodor dostoevsky

obviously takes you to church first

listens to christmas carols from the church choir (he's lowk an old man so he likes them)

you then go to a ballet show to watch the nutcracker

he makes traditional russian dishes for dinner like meat pies, vegetable fillings, and fish, and drink some sbiten (a warm honey + spice drink), which he prefers over hot cocoa

you end the night reading books by the fireplace as he strokes your hair

gifts you your favorite books and some warm winter clothes/coats

⁺⋆*❅ nikolai gogol

christmas is one of his fav holidays after halloween

after decorating the house and the tree, you both go to a christmas wonderland attraction

other visitors/children keep asking if he's santa bc of his white hair, and you giggle innocently as you take pictures of him

makes Sviat Vechir: A 12-dish meal with kolach, cabbage rolls, and other traditional ukrainian dishes for dinner

gifts u a white sweater he knit himself (awww)

⁺⋆*❅ sigma

it's one of his first christmases, so he lets you plan what to do

you make him some cinnamon rolls + eggnog for breakfast

you both bake and decorate some christmas cookies⎯he's surprisingly good at making intricate patterns and designs, and his cookies are so pretty you almost don't want to eat them

you go skiing⎯sigma definitely struggles at first but he gets the hang of it pretty fast

after you get cold, you both go back inside to get some hot cocos and eat some fondue

you both watch the sunset on the ski lift, which is the most beautiful view against the snow-covered mountains (he secretly can't talk his eyes off you tho)

at home, you unbox presents!

he gifts you plane tickets to a nice getaway vacation ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡

⁺⋆*❅ shibusawa tatsuhiko

(honorary doa girlie lol)

not particularly interested in the holidays, but he likes flashy things so i think he'd enjoy seeing light shows/big christmas displays

however, he likes to spoil you, so he gets you an advent calendar with an assortment of nice clothes, fancy jewelry, and more

watches as you unbox each day's gift and relishes in your cute reactions

lets you paint his nails red, white, and/or green as you sit in his lap

decorates the christmas tree with gems instead of ornaments since he has so many laying around

⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒

⁺⋆*❅ jouno saigiku

another winter cabin getaway bc he hates how crowded and noisy the city gets during this time of year

you go iceskating on the lake together

he can hear the position of you feet and corrects your form so you don't slip and fall on the ice

even if you're good at iceskaing, he keep his arms linked with yours the whole time or holds onto your hand

at one point, he feels like showing off and spins you around and throws you up into the air like a figure skater, and he giggles maniacally while you scream

makes snow angels with you

once you get back to the cabin, you both roast some s'mores over the fireplace and enjoy a warm cup of hot cocoa

you snuggle by the fire and fall asleep in eachother's arms

⁺⋆*❅ tecchou suehiro

he takes you to go hunting + ice fishing

you probably get freaked out by the thought of shooting the animals, so you both end up just doing a nature walk in the woods instead lol

while looking for the perfect tree, you find a clearing and build a buff snowman (tecchou insists he's more muscular tho)

tecchou chops the tree you decide on and hauls it back home himself bc he's that strong lol

he decorates the tree while you cook some of the fish he caught for dinner

you also make some berry tarts and jam cookies with some berries you foraged on the walk (.◜◡◝)

[evieelyzabethh]

Warmer than a Comforter

pairing(s): Spike x fem!reader

summary: it wasn't unusual for Spike to 'break' into your apartment, but it was unusual for him to want to spend the night.

warnings: very long (4.4k words), spike being a simp, one bed trope, dry humping, thigh fucking, masturbation, some fingering, slight praise, Spike being Spike, a smidge of possessiveness, and thats about it

It was no secret to anyone your favorite time of day was long after the sun went down. A full-time college student who worked a part time job on top of that was no easy feat. Your time during the day was never your time, it was your shitty professors time who assigned reading after reading that needed to be read for the never-ending stream of papers and theses, it belonged to your shitty boss who piled on tons of paperwork and demanded you be at his beck and call even after you clocked out. As much as you loved them, your time off belonged to your friends; patrolling, looking through dusty-old books, trying not to die every time you stepped out of your apartment.

When you got home (if there was no patrolling to be done), it was your time and while you were tired, you made time for your nightly routine. You'd slip off your shoes and walk in the dark to make it to your room to turn on your lamp, because you'd be damned if you were turning on one of the big lights this late.

You would usually strip down and dig a pair of pajamas out of your drawers before taking a scalding shower. You'd brush your teeth and wash your face, maybe if you had the energy, you'd do a face mask and paint your nails. You'd turn on your stereo or switch on your TV to fall asleep to the fuzzy sound and soft light. This, of course, is what you'd be doing right now had you not walked into your house with company.

You could see him lounging on your bed, the darkness of his attire somehow darker than your unlit room. His duster slung on the back of your desk chair, only clothed in some tight navy shirt and jeans.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" You crossed your arms over your chest, annoyed when you realized he had his dirty ass boots on your bed.

"M' paying my favorite Scooby a visit." You walked over to turn on your lamp, giving you enough light to see how smug he was. His arms sat behind his head, his eyes glittering with amusement. He was doing this to annoy you. He did most things just to annoy you.

"Pay another Scooby a visit." You were dead tired, practically forcing your eyes open. You had just gotten back from work, your bag still in your hand which you used to knock his legs off your bed. He could've been stubborn, but he let you.

You stripped off your hoodie, flashing him your stomach as your undershirt rose with the movement. He whistled, "Scandalous."

"Get out of my apartment." You tossed your hoodie at him while rolling your eyes. He caught it midair, bringing it to his nose to sniff it.

"Smells different. You using a different bodywash?" You hummed as you walked around your room to find something suitable to wear to bed. It was dreadfully hot out, even worse than what you'd expect from a California summer. You had at least 3 fans going anytime you were here, especially since your landlord could never seem to find a permanent solution to the junky A.C unit.

"Midnight Rose. Real fancy stuff." You hadn't even noticed a difference, but of course Spike would. Vampire senses had a way of being intrusive in a way that was only helpful when it came to your cycle and saving you bed sheets.

"I like the other one better: the cocoa butter one. It was fainter. You smelt more like you." You scoffed.

"Duly noted." Your hands roamed over the old t-shirts from high school and camisole tops so old the straps had snapped on a couple of them.

Spike sat up on your bed, untying the laces on his shoes haphazardly before setting them by your bedroom door. He roamed around like you had been, picking up bottles of nail polish and flipping through one of the books on your shelf.

"You could spare me a bit of your attention, love. I mean I did go through the trouble of-"

"Breaking into my apartment?" You interrupted.

"On second thought, it was a bit easy. I pushed it a bit and the window came right out. Are you leaving it open for somebody?" His tone was supposed to sound much more teasing than it did. There was a pang in his chest, probably of jealousy. Much to his chagrin, he was jealous a lot these days and he couldn't quite tell if his frequent visits were enabling that or the very cause of it. Either way, it was hard not to just crawl through your window anytime he pleased.

You acted like you were annoyed and if he had a dollar for every time you threatened to call Buffy on him, he wouldn't need to dumpster dive for furniture. If he had another dollar for every time, you never followed through, he'd be even richer. You said it's because you could handle yourself without her help, but, admittedly, you didn't hate his company that much.

As far as house guests go, it could be worse. It's not like he eats all your food, talks your ears off, or is unfunny. He was just there. A pain in your ass sometimes, like when he insists on being half a step behind you during patrols and never fails to tell you how great your ass looks from behind. Never a malevolent presence, just annoyingly noticeable.

His boots were clunky, and he smelled of faint cigarettes and alcohol. He also hated silence. He was fidgety and anxious, even if his intentions were stealth, he couldn't help but break the tension and open his mouth. At times against his will, he just wanted to be noticed that bad. He just needed to be around you that bad.

"I keep telling the landlord to fix it, but he insists it's just fine. 'Nothin' some glue won't fix'." But you had tried gluing it. Had it not been for the clear shit jammed in the lock, the window would've just come right open with the flick of a finger.

"I could fix it for you." He went ignored while you had made your way to your bathroom, taking your hair down from the claw clip it had been stuck in for the past few hours. A slight moan of relief slipped through your lips as your fingers carded through it to massage your scalp.

"You know how to fix windows?"

"Well...no. But it can't be that hard. I've been around a few hundred years, surely I can figure out how to fix a bloody window." What he meant to say (if he had the balls) was that he would be more than happy to learn how to fix a window for you. It would give him an excuse to hang around, it would keep him in your good graces for a solid month, and he wouldn't have to break an entering anymore. Granted, his preferred place of entry had long been broken and he could always come through the front door, but it was a matter of principle.

You looked him up and down, trying to decipher if this was a set up for a joke or if he was actually serious, but he kept his head down. He hadn't been able to blush since he was a human, but the habit had a way of rearing its head for you.

He was so pretty too. With his high cheekbones and the way the warm light made his complexion look less ghastly. As ironic and cliche as it would be to say, he looked slightly angelic. Like one who fell from Heaven and donned the dark and mysterious charade to make it hurt less. He would burn away under a cross just to make it back to Heaven. Nearly break his spine falling out of windows and bleed out taking stabs if it meant he was closer to your doors. If there was one thing Spike did well, it was devotion.

"You wouldn't even know where to start. I'll just call Xander or something."

"What're you gonna do that for!"

"Because, Spike," you laughed incredulously, confused as to if this was going to become an argument or form a chip on his shoulder. "If I want something fixed, I'm going to call someone who does it for a living."

"But would Xander do it for free?"

"Would you?"

"I wouldn't charge anything of monetary value." You snorted, not surprised at all with his answer.

"You are such a whore, you know that?"

"What can I say, baby?" He leaned against the door frame of your bathroom, where you stood staring at your reflection in the mirror. He was happy that his nonexistent reflection could betray him. He was grateful to be a part of this routine - your routine- in a way that didn't disrupt your peace. It was soft. Almost domestic.

You were so meticulous about the way you scrubbed your face and brushed your teeth. He liked how when you took off your makeup the glitter remained. You sparkled at the right angles, really fucking sparkled. Of course, he was going to sit and stare at you; mascara still not completely wiped away, hair tied back with a fuzzy headband, lips agitated from being bit throughout the day. It was poetic. Second nature to him. He didn't need to breath, but it came to him then, overwhelming and filling his lungs like water until he was full as he stared at you in the mirror with not even his own reflection to judge him.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower."

"How rude, without me?" Damn, he sounded like a bloody idiot. You only looked him up and down, trying to appear deeply disgusted but stopped just shy of mildly annoyed.

"Get out of my apartment before I stake you." You slammed the bathroom door in his face, hiding your blush behind the wood.

"That's not a no." His voice is muffled behind the door, and as much as you'd like to believe he didn't hear it, you did laugh.

***********************************************************

Spike had to have been a cat in a previous life, is what you decided when you found him still on your bed, nose in some magazine he found pretending to care about the newest Natasha Denona palette.

"That crypt must be uncomfortable as hell for you to still be here." You skated around your room to sink beside him. He reaches across his side to pull out a bottle of water and hands it to you.

"Your showers are hot as hell; I'm surprised you didn't pass out in there." He flips through the pages nonchalantly, pretending not to be incredibly fixated at the water dripping from the nape of your neck and disappearing into your shirt.

"You would've loved that, wouldn't you? Getting to play 'knight and shining armor' while I'm conveniently naked." The sound waxy pages being torn was a surprise. So much of you and his banter was contingent on the assumption that neither of you meant anything serious so nothing would become anything.

Spike, who spent most of his mortal adult life swallowing his feelings until his stomach became an endless chasm where his feelings went to fester rather than die, was more than okay with this unspoken arrangement. Sarcasm was a second language to you. You were used to your words not mattering, especially since in your group of friends, your existence seemed to matter far less than everyone else's. You wondered if that was why you and Spike got along so well.

He just got you. Maybe a side effect of him being around you whenever he could. He just got you. In a stupid way. In an annoying way. The kind of way that made you worried that reading minds was also one of his vampiric powers. He wormed his stupid way into your brain, slithering around in his own sort of Spike way til you didn't know where his influence began.

He did sort of have this hypnotic way of speech. Maybe because he was a poet. Poets have to have some sort of hypnotic power, right? Surely, there was some connection between rhythms and brain waves that made the effect of Spike's voice so persuasive. Maybe it's not the rhythm and it's just the honesty. Ironic, since the basis of your "relationship" was built on never assuming that the other meant what they said, but who cares. It gave you guys flavor. Something to keep things interesting.

"I'll have you know; I am a very old-fashioned guy with manners." You snorted as his response. He talked about his "old-fashioned" ways a lot. Maybe to convince you that he was a gentleman. Gentleman your ass, you'd seen what he kept in his crypt.

"My deepest apologies for assuming that a guy that used railroad spikes as a murder weapon of choice wouldn't be above jumping at the opportunity to see me naked."

"Am I that transparent?"

"When it comes to mirrors, yeah." His scoff was lost in the sound of a car horn going off across the street. Damn, you needed a new place. He had complained to you about the noise before. If you didn't leave near a busy street, he would try his luck spending the night far more than he already did. Each blare deepened the scowl on his face as he flinched at the sound, even louder from where he sat in front of it.

"Those death buggies have to be the worst thing to come out of the 20th century. So obnoxious, and for what?"

"I imagine they are more convenient than horse drawn carriages."

"Yeah, more convenient and not even half the charm." He turned his head to gaze out the window. "It's not even a nice car! I'd rather ride around in the fucking Angel Mobile than drive around in that thing."

"You are so dramatic. Usually I just," you swing your leg over his waist, straddling and reaching over to close the window. He swallowed hard at the feeling of your chest pressing against the magazine, the only boundary between him and you, and the nonchalance of the action. "Shut the window." You felt him tense beneath you, his right hand awkwardly meeting your hip, blue eyes staring up at you through dark eyelashes. "Then again, I'm not a pansy who needs complete silence to sleep."

He cleared his throat before he spoke. "I sleep in a cemetery, love, ain't much noise around those parts." His eyes wandered everywhere they could but the worst part about beautiful people is that there is no unsightly place to avert your gaze. He couldn't stare at your gorgeous eyes, or your stunning nose, or your lips to distract himself from the steadily growing boner that you were sitting right on top of. You were no better than he was.

Within the context of the unspoken agreement, this meant absolutely nothing. The boner was just a normal reaction, that didn't have to mean anything. The way he was looking at you was a bit hard to ignore, but that was the way he always looked at you. He was a lot closer right now, sure, but that stupid lovesick look that you have spent years trying to ignore, totally just a joke. Not real at all. A trick of the light, in fact. The hard-on was very real though.

After sitting there for a few seconds too long, you shift your weight to move back to your side of the bed, but his hands keep you in your place. " 'm cold", he mutters, his thumb rubbing circles between where your shorts meet your bare skin.

"Yeah?" You feel him pressing up against your core. "I didn't think you could get cold."

" Me either but-", you lowered yourself completely on his clothed dick and the groan he let out was salacious. "Here we are." The frigid way he moved made his lie believable. Incredibly cautious, hesitant. No idea what to do with himself. He ran his hands along your thighs, up and down your side, one cold hand sliding underneath your shirt, rubbing the hem of it between his pointer finger and his thumb.

You leaned forward, warm breath fanning against his nose. It smelled like mint. You smelled like some sort of cocoa butter. Smooth and soft on top of him and he didn't know if you were going to roll right off or melt into his skin. Your hands come to the sides of his face, and you stare intently at him. He felt like he was under a microscope with the way you looked at him like you were committing each detail of him to memory so that even when you closed his eyes, it was still him burning in the forefront of your mind.

"You gonna kiss me?" You whispered, pressing yourself further into him. He let out a breathy laugh.

"What, a guy's always gotta make the first move?" With that, you leaned down to give him what was meant to be a quick peck. A tester. A tease. But when you give Spike an inch, he takes a mile, and he took the opportunity to devour you. Mouth open, sloppy, wet kisses while his hands worked as eagerly as his tongue did. You were a calming presence, slow and sane as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to try and ground the both of you.

Breathing through your nose, you inhaled him. The faint smell of smoke, the fresh smell of whatever he washed the gel from his hair with, the distinctly Spike musk. Your thighs wrapped him more closely, subtly grinding into his lap, ignoring the slight burn on your knees from the friction between them and your sheets. His large hands covered swathes of skin, cooling you where you grew too hot from his touch. When he had his fill, he broke away from you, still nose to nose, a string of saliva still between the two of you.

"Do you wanna spend the night?" Your voice was somehow meek as if there was any way in hell he would say no to you. He breathed out, turning his head into the crook of your neck, leaving searing kisses on your silky skin, worshipping at his altar, and thanking who or whatever got him here tonight. He kisses you from your neck, along your jawline, to the corner of your lips.

"Yes", he whispers against your skin. He bucks his hips into you, the imprint of his cock and the rough material of his jeans kissing your pussy through the thin layers of material. You nearly choke on his tongue at the feeling. Fuck.

Your eyes are closed, hips moving furiously against his, too blissed out to even care about the steadily growing wet patch in your underwear. You're lost in kisses, kisses that overwhelm and confuse and steal your breath until you wonder how much you need to breathe anyway. Along with not needing to breathe, you learned they must have incredible resolve. He chases you. Not like how a wolf chases a lamb but how the sun chases the moon.

He pulls and you push for breath, some sort of reprieve, some time for your mind to catch up with your body because right now everything but the way the seams of his jeans catch your clit is one of the only things on your mind. He pulls you, still, his hands squeezing at your waist, moving up to cup your breasts, thumbing at your nipples, and flicking the already hard peaks. And you push, still, not in protest but in harmony. Your hips pressing down, his jerking up. Your hands tugging his hair, his squeezing your waist. It was good. It was so good.

"What is the point", he starts breathlessly, "of these damn shorts if they're so thin. You're leaking right through, love." He smiles against you, sharp teeth grazing against your cheek as he smirks.

"Take 'em off me then." For once in his life, he takes his time. The desperation of his prior movements forgotten as he looks at you as he trails a finger from your chest down between the valley of your breasts, to your navel. He draws invisible shapes along your stomach, diamonds, hearts, and letters spelling m-i-n-e. And he stalls there. Looking from beneath you, smug as you ground yourself onto his dick in an attempt to move him along.

He was amused. Fascinated. You in your own world, mewling, moaning, putting on a show just for him. Choosing to ignore how sticky your panties had gotten, how much they stuck to your cunt as you wiggled your hips as if you could get any closer. Your tits moving with you, the way your mouth was slightly agape, the way you keened when you rubbed against him just right. It was no motivation for him to move his hands at all, not when it was much more rewarding to angle his hips up and make you see stars. "You gonna cum like this?" He crooned, full of fake sympathy.

"You're really gonna make me get myself off." You rolled your eyes, maybe out of pleasure, maybe out of faux annoyance. Either way, his hand slithered to the waistband of your shorts and dipped even deeper. He left feather-light touches on your clit which sent jolts of electricity up your spine. Overcome with the tightening feeling in your belly, your hands grabbed at his shoulders as your hips worked and worked you snapped. Impossibly wet and dazed, you rocked into him until the high had passed and the stars had left from behind your eyelids leaving only Spike.

His fingers still, in your panties, he moves to slide them and your shorts off your body. You hover slightly, still too sensitive to rub your bare pussy against him. You fidget with the button of his jeans and zipper, Spike's hands coming to cover yours to ease the shakiness. Maybe to give the appearance that he was much calmer than he was. He was painfully hard, and you felt it when you palmed him through his boxers after getting his pants down enough. Where his tip sat was a wet spot. You smirked.

"Did I get your dick that wet?" A shiver went down his spine. The heat from your palm was felt through his boxers. Your hand was barely big enough to cover it. Before either of you was prepared for it, he flipped you on your back. His hands sat on either side of your head while yours removed him from his boxers. He was so big.

You tore your gaze away from his cock to meet his gaze. He still looked at you the same. Pupils widened from lust, cheeks with a slightly pink tinge, lips puffy, eyes looking down at you with the same look they always had. It's then he leans down to kiss you for the millionth time. No urgency, less messy, a kiss like he was trying to wake you from a thousand-year slumber.

Your hand still on his cock, you pumped it a few times, swiping your thumb against his tip to lubricate his dick. He groaned into your mouth, humming in pleasure. You try to line him up to sink in your hole, but he slaps you on the wrist. "Don't want your cunt tonight," he mumbled in between kisses, "Jus' let me feel you."

He pumped his cock a few times before slotting it in between the meat of your thighs. The veins and ridges of his dick would occasionally slide between your folds, but that wasn't the focus. No matter how much you wiggled for him to plant his cock so far deep it kissed your cervix, you were ignored as he squeezed your thighs together, panting as he fucked them.

The juxtaposition made your head dizzy. The softness with which he kissed you and the fervor of his dick between your thighs, them getting wetter with the accumulation of precum leaking from his dick. It only forced him to press harder, leaving handprints from how hard he gripped. "Such a pretty thing, aren't you." He sighed out, his pace still even but his breaths far from it. "Go ahead and touch that pretty cunt f' me."

As much as your brain wasn't working, it wasn't needed to do what you were told. Bleary-headed, your hand traveled from the outside of your leg to between your folds. Still wet from your previous orgasm, it didn't take much to just slip a couple fingers in, moaning as you did. One hand toyed with your tit as the other toyed with your clit, your hips wanting to buck into your hand had it not been for Spike's palm on your stomach.

Had he had the composure, he would have made some sarcastic comment. Slow down, love, what's the rush, is what he would've said had his thrusts not been as sloppy as they were. He pulled away from your lips to see the mess he was making. White beads pooled on the skin of your stomach, dripping down your thighs like liquid pearls. And you. Low warm light bouncing off your skin, lip tucked in your teeth, staring right up at him. It took all of him not to cum at the sight.

Not before you did, he decided, which by the way your moans pitched up wasn't that far away. Each "accidental" slide into you was met with a jerk of your hips. "Stop it", you squealed, the bucking of your hips screaming otherwise.

"Feels too good, doesn't it." Then he did it again. His large hand drifts around before grabbing your abandoned tit, groping it until you hit your limit again. Your chest heaved unevenly as you tried to catch your breath as Spike's hips sped up, stuttered, then stopped as his cum splashed on your stomach and breasts.

Spent and not knowing what to do, he kisses you again. He smiles into it, and to his surprise, you do too. Like it was the only thing that made sense to do. The fuzz gradually fades from your mind, the noise from the multiple fans running and the faint humming of electricity apparent again. There's a breeze coming in from your window and you giggle.

"Are you still cold?"

[with-my-calamitous-love]

crashing into him tonight / he's a paradox

o. dazai x f! reader

after an argument, your boyfriend makes it up to you the best way he knows how. angst/smut, comfort, some emotional distance on dazai’s part, fingering + oral + light edging (fem receiving). he is so guilty as sin coded i can’t explain it. replayed tlou II and this came to mind.

song: guilty as sin

there's a lingering ache in your chest as he explains himself, cocoa brown eyes studying you the way your frown seems to deepen at each word. you can read between the lines enough to know that he is frustrated- crossed arms, a tired tone, and an unusual lack of playfulness that masks any and all residual hurt. but a part of you wishes he'd be just a little bit more worried by how much he's pissed you off, this time around.

"sweetheart." he starts again, his words somewhat dismissive, but with a soft gentleness feathering behind them, reserved for you. "i don't see why this upset you so much."

a spike of anger pierces your throat. your words slow down, as if explaining instructions to a child. "you're telling me you're going to be away for weeks, or even months somewhere in europe. and you can't tell me why?"

the crack in your voice doesn't go unnoticed by either of you. he continues again, unwrapping his arms and moving closer to you. "i told you, i'm going to be back as soon as possible. you know me."

"do i?" tears prick your eyes, unable to raise your voice anymore. "theres just so many secrets, osa. i'm just supposed to do what? wait here till you come back? if you come back?"

"when." he quickly corrects you, a calculated confidence that only comes from years of living on the wrong side of the law.

still, your doubt comes from worry. worry comes from love. "how can you be so sure?"

the calmness of his features makes the walls in the room pulse achingly. you're in fear for his life, for this mystery he refuses to unravel for you, and he seems perfectly rational. though, something in his lips quivers slightly, telling you that deep down? he's probably also afraid. he's just hiding it from you.

"what if you die?" you whisper, vulnerable enough to let him wipe your tears away. he does understand why you're upset, better than most would. he of all people knows how losing someone can ruin you.

he tilts your head upwards, making sure you're looking at him. "i don't plan on dying, bella."

"no one ever plans on dying."

"well-"

"shut up."

your quip draws a half-hearted chuckle from his lips, and a bitter, tear stained smile from yours. he presses a kiss to your forehead, lips lingering for a moment to remind you that he is there. he wonders to himself if he's allowed to cry, or if he's buried that part of him so deep down that it can only emerge during moments where he's alone.

he's known for the longest time that this would catch up to him. that the crimes of his past would be uncovered, despite his promise to be a good man. he's thrown his life to the wolves and ocean rocks, and he can count the things he's done right on one hand. holding you in his arms, in his life, is one of the few things he hasn't turned to death.

soon, he'd be tracked down again and taken to meursault. but the selfish part of him can't tell you that. he assumes that someone in the agency, someone with a better conscience than him, will sit you down and explain to you the situation. he imagines you not angry, not sad, but disappointed. and for him, its all the more reason to escape and return to you.

he pulls back to press his forehead to yours. he hopes you can't tell how his hands shake. he really is scared.

"i'm sorry there are things i haven't told you." he speaks just below his breath, like his words are intended for your ears alone. "but i promise i'll be back. and when that happens, i'll explain everything."

your head tells you the obvious: that you should be more skeptical, more angry, more wary of him. but your heart, which is so much louder and stronger, whining with a simple premise: that you're going to miss him.

you're caught between the two, so all you do is nod. he knows you aren't satisfied with his answer. but he's on a timer, but he's doing everything he can to stop the world from spinning so he can spend it with you.

as if on instinct, he starts kissing you all over your face. he keeps your cheeks cupped in one hand, tilting your head upwards as he moves down to your neck. you exhale, this time not out of bitterness, but out of relief. right now, only his actions are talking, and he wants to take all of you and savor it. he isn't sure how long he'll have to wait to see you again.

he guides your body onto the bed shivering as he feels your hands grasp his broad shoulders for stability. in an instant, his hands are on the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and discarding it like its unnecessary. he wants to feel your warmth, your skin and bones, to remember why he needs to return home.

in an instant, his and your clothes are off. and he’s positioned himself between your legs, whispering praises into your ears like this was a tryst. he spreads you open, admiring how wet you’ve gotten simply from his carefully selected words. he could tease you about it, but he thinks it’d be too easy.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

“fuck! oh~ osamu- ah!”

he has two fingers buried into you, up to his knuckles. he’s deliberate with his actions, alternating between careful, slow strokes and rapid bursts of quick thrusts that make your toes curl.

he’s good with his words and his mind, but he’s relentlessly proved that he’s fucking amazing with his hands. he watches as your body tenses with pleasure, reeling from how deep his slender fingers can reach. he adored the way your warm, wet walls greet him, enveloping him like blobs of clay.

your bedsheets are ablaze, screams of his name rolling off of your tongue. he catches a glimpse of the way your breasts have seem to radiate in the warm glow of sex, and he can’t help but reach down and take a nipple into his mouth. he moans around it as he feels you clench around his digits further, and he rewards you with a sensual rub to your clit. he makes sure you can see his tongue swirling over your nipple in circles, alternating between sucks and scrapes with his teeth before moving to and lavishing the other.

“are you still with me, love?” he breaks away from your skin momentarily, honeyed eyes looking up at you. he waits for you to say yes, but he knows the answer. based on your involuntary back arches and your moans bordering on crying. he’s dragging this out, and you can’t blame him for it, either.

“osa, i’m gonna cum.” you whine, hoping he sees how glossy your eyes are. he’s well aware, and he reaches up with his free hand to caress your face.

he’s been worshipping you all night. but it wouldn’t be him if he wasn’t torturing you somehow. “hold it for me, bella.”

a pleasured groan escapes your lips, as he works lips down your body, upping the ante. you don’t have the energy to argue with him, not when he’s about to suck it all out of you.

he’s mean, spreading the lips of your pussy with his thumb, watching your fluids run down the pretty pink walls. he knows you can feel the warmth of his breath, mingling with the cold air of the room.

keeping you spread, he drags a long, tantalizing lick up your pussy, keeping his tongue flat against the surface. he grins at the way he needs to physically hold your hips down, or else he won’t be able to enjoy his meal.

“easy.” he whispers, pressing a loving kiss to your clit, triggering your second heartbeat. “let me take care of you.”

his words are that of a gentle instruction as he starts to eat you out, switching between flat, broad licks and teasing, quick stripes. he shakes his head slightly, smiling to himself as he tastes your juices. its a conscious decision to ignore that he won’t get to eat your pussy again for at least another few months, so he’s savouring what he has now.

he laps at your pussy like he’s starving, licking up every drop like wasting it is a sin. he reaches up to grab one of your tits, giving it a lovingly rough squeeze before refocusing on the task in front of him. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking while he re-integrates his fingers.

the coil in your abdomen is ready to burst at any moment. you’re throbbing, mind an unable to form any other coherent sentences, other than the one you cry out:

“please let me cum.” you beg, and some may call it pathetic. but dazai isn’t the type to leave you unsatisfied.

but he has his fun first, pretending not to hear while he continues eating you out like his final meal. you scream his name out so he and the neighbours hear you.

“i heard you, bella.” he laughs, fingers continuing to work you while he pulls away to speak. “you’re gonna cum for me, yeah?”

“oh, yes!” you sob as he redoubles his efforts, determined to have you cum in his mouth while he swallows each drop. he swears to himself he’ll choose this over anyone else. he’ll choose you and him, your love religiously.

he knows he’s done it when you let out sharp gasp, grabbing his hair while your back arches once more. he happily laps up your pretty white juices, even licking his fingers clean after.

he sits up on his knees to watch the way your body shakes and shivers from the high. he cups your pussy, feeling the residual wetness, both of you well aware that you have a long night ahead.

“you did amazing, my love.” he praises, simply repositioning himself. he lets you tuck away the bangs on his forehead, sticking with sweat and possibly other fluids.

for a moment, you simply stare into each others eyes. theres something utterly holy about the way he holes you, even as he prepares to take you once more.

the pleasure had been so intense, the previous conversation had been almost entirely forgotten. almost.

“osamu?”

he looks uo at you, lingering on your rosy lips before making eye contact. “yes, belladonna?”

you gulp the lingering ache. “you better come back. to me.”

his stunned for just a moment before his swollen lips curve into a smile. “you have my word.”

[transformers-spike]

"TFP Shockwave with the girthiest spike that looks like this plant https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTjy8fsF7/. It’s slimy as fuck and releases some liquid biological alien matter along with transfluid. He just has an extra weird alien fluid cuz he’s shockwave. His spike expands and shrinks repeatedly inside a valve. Maybe has some freaky Organic alien attachment mechanism for when he’s inside someone. Maybe once inside, little bristles pop out that are soft and attach to the walls."

Added glowing insides because his key art has him acting like a glowstick. I did not expect to use cocoa as inspo, but man it's a perfect mix of organic/mechanical.

I didn't get to the fluid, but I like to think it's secreting a huge amount of joint lubricant (normal for spikes but he's just soaked in it)

Despite all the refs I've used trying to see how I can integrate a spike/valve to a bot design, I don't think I'll ever figure out how to make the transition smoother and be satisfied with it

[hearteyes4logan]

the way he loves in winter — ls¹⁸ lance stroll x fem!reader requested by no one word count: 737 words! fluff

Image from Pinterest!

synopsis: snowed in a canadian winter wonderland, you and lance spend your offseason together

British Columbia, Canada. Off season.

It was the type of cold that nipped your cheeks, leaving them rosy red and making your face bury deeper into the depths of the scarf around your neck. And yet, you didn't mind it. Not here. Not with him.

The mountains stretched endlessly around you — dusted in white and ethereal in the late afternoon. It was a postcard dream, something you could only ever dream yet it was a reality, one with you were currently living. You and Lance were halfway up a hill behind a chalet he rented out for the off-season. Your snowshoes clung loosely to your feet as you dragged them uphill, stomach sore from laughing.

"We're never beating Alonso." You huffed, watching the Spaniard far up the hill, close to the top. "Despite being old, the man does have energy. And spirit." You joke whilst glancing behind you.

Lance looked up at you, face half hidden beneath a beanie, eyes crinkled. "He's probably been training for this, who knows. He does have a home in Switzerland, he probably visits the Swiss Alps without anyone's knowledge."

You laughed, stumbling forward a bit before Lance caught you. Your bundled bodies collided as he wrapped his arms around your waist, steadying you and grounding you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Careful babe." He said, grinning. "Can't have a repeat of face-planting in the snow."

"Again?" You teased. "You forget this happened a year ago.. and you still won't let go?"

"Hey, I'll bring up Lake Louise every time you trip, stumble or fall in the snow."

You narrowed your eyes. "Don't.."

He laughed, nose brushing the crook of your neck as he turned you around, both of your chests rising in sync as the air thinned. He brushed a strand of hair from your face with a snowy finger as he pulled you in for a kiss — gloved hands sliding down to your waist, despite the amount of layers you had on. As you both pulled apart, you both glanced up at Fernando who had just reached the top and flailed his arms about signalling the two of you to hurry up.

"God forbid a boyfriend gets to kiss his girlfriend occasionally." You said, earning a laugh from Lance as he held an arm around your waist, the two of you beginning your journey uphill again.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

That night, the chalet glowed golden against the blue dusk. Inside, the fire roared quietly, and Fernando had disappeared upstairs, muttering something about 'muscle recovery' and a suspicious amount of epsom salts.

You were curled up on the couch, a fuzzy blanket over your legs and Lance beside you in grey sweats and a long-sleeve shirt that hung loose over his frame. His hand rested lazily on your thigh, thumb brushing slow and absent circles into your skin.

"Remember when we first did this?" He asked, voice low. "First ski trip, first winter together."

You nodded, smiling into your cup of spiked cocoa. "You got frostbite."

"You made me stop for selfies mid-blizzard."

"You told me it was romantic snow." You teased.

He leaned over and kissed your temple. "Still is. You make everything feel like that."

Your heart melted, warm and slow, as you looked at him—the firelight soft on his face, shadows dancing across his cheekbones. He looked genuinely relaxed, which was rarely seen during the season. There was no team radio, no grid pressure, just Lance — your Lance.

Later, in the quiet of your shared room, the cold stayed outside whilst the sheets grew warm. His arms wrapped around you from behind, your bodies tangled beneath heavy quilts.

"You ever think how weird it is that we found each other in that world?" You murmured into the silence.

"In the world of motorsport? Yes, sometimes." He said, voice groggy with sleep. "It's weird how you were always a presence in the grid yet I only met you only 2 years ago."

"I know. It honestly feels surreal Lance." You paused as you turned in his arms to face him. "I love you."

His eyes softened, fingers reaching up to brush your baby hairs away from your face.

"I love you too." He whispered.

And he kissed you like it was a promise. Slow. Safe. Home.

Outside, the snow kept falling and inside, you were wrapped in warmth and each whilst Fernando bathed in the other room.

© hearteyes4logan

[onlyhereforthestories]

Snowstorms and Spiked Cocoa (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Day 12! I am not so sure about this one but it turned out okay I think. Sometimes I struggle to word things how I want to.

The snow had started as a gentle dusting that morning, swirling softly outside the windows as you and Leah sipped on coffee, watching the grey sky grow brighter. It was cozy inside her apartment, and the two of you had planned to run some errands and maybe grab lunch after the snow settled. But by noon, the light snowfall turned heavy, thick blankets of white covering the streets outside and so those plans would need to change.

Leah peered out the window, squinting as if that would change the forecast. “We’re not going anywhere, are we?” she asked, turning to you with a wry smile.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. “Not unless you have a sled hidden somewhere. And clothes that are ten times warmer than these.” You said whilst tugging at her thinner cotton pyjamas she was currently wearing.

Leah pulled you close, a playful grin on her face as she slapped away your tugging hand. “Well, guess we’re in for the long haul,” she murmured, nodding toward the couch. “So how about we make the most of it?”

Within a few minutes, you’d transformed the living room into a winter sanctuary. The two of you grabbed all the warm blankets you could find, piling them on the couch and adding a few extra pillows. Leah even lit some candles, their warm glow casting a golden hue across the room, mixing with the white glow of the snowy world outside.

“What’s a snow day without some hot chocolate?” Leah said, her tone already daring you to disagree.

You grinned, standing up. “Add a splash of something special?”

She raised her eyebrows in approval. “Absolutely.”

A quick trip to the kitchen later, you returned with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa, each topped with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon, with a generous splash of Baileys added in for good measure. You handed Leah her mug and snuggled next to her on the couch as she scrolled through the holiday movie options.

She held up the remote, looking between you and the screen. “So, where should we start? Classics, rom-coms, or those cheesy made-for-TV movies?”

You feigned a thoughtful expression. “I say we go for the classics first. Home Alone?”

Leah’s eyes sparkled, and she eagerly selected the movie. “Good choice,” she said, grinning. “I’ve been quoting Kevin McCallister since I was a kid. Bet I know every line.” Even though she said it jovially, you knew secretly she was competitive enough to believe this.

As the opening credits rolled, you wrapped yourself in the blanket and leaned into her, the warmth of the cocoa, the Baileys and Leah’s arm around you making you feel entirely content with the change of plans. For a while, you just enjoyed the movie, laughing at the iconic scenes and quoting lines along with her. Every time a new trap was set, Leah gasped dramatically, elbowing you with exaggerated shock as if she was watching it for the first time and didn’t know that was what was going to happen.

“Look at him,” she said, laughing as Kevin outsmarted the burglars again. “Kid’s a genius. I’d be terrible at setting traps. My version would probably be me just hiding under a blanket hoping for the best.” You snorted, picturing it.

When the movie ended, you took a break to stretch and grab some popcorn. You handed her the bowl as you settled back in, scrolling through the lineup. “What’s next? Feeling more nostalgia or something cheesy?”

Leah’s eyes lit up mischievously. “Oh, cheesy, definitely. Let’s go for one of those Christmas rom-coms.”

She selected a feel-good holiday romance where the characters predictably met under a snow-covered tree in the city centre and exchanged longing looks with holiday lights twinkling in the background.

“Alright, you’re going to have to try really hard not to laugh through this,” you warned her, already grinning.

“Oh, I’m ready,” Leah said, nodding with mock seriousness. But just a few minutes in, you both were struggling to keep it together, pointing out the clichés and over-the-top scenes. Every time one of the characters had a “holiday epiphany,” Leah nudged you, trying her best to keep a straight face.

“So, wait,” Leah said, pausing the movie and turning her body to face you which was tricky as you were pretty much laying on top of her. “This girl just runs into a guy who’s conveniently single, successful, loves Christmas, and has nothing else going on?”

You nodded, rolling your eyes dramatically. “Of course! Isn’t that how life works?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “And all she has to do is realize her true feelings right before Christmas Eve? That’s it?”

“Exactly,” you said, holding up your mug. “Holiday magic.”

She shook her head, still laughing. “Unbelievable. It’s… it’s so bad that it’s so so good!”

The storm raged on outside, but you barely noticed, wrapped up together in the warm bubble you’d created. Each movie you chose brought its own little bit of holiday spirit, and between the cocoa and the cozy blankets, time seemed to drift by peacefully. By the time you’d watched a few more, the light outside had begun to dim, casting the snow-covered world into soft shadows.

Leah reached over to grab another blanket, wrapping it around both of you as she leaned in close. “Best snow day ever,” she murmured, her eyes soft and full of warmth as she looked at you. “I can’t remember the last time I just slowed down like this. Took a day to do nothing at all and not had an issue pop up because of it.”

You placed a soft kiss on her cheek before pressing another to her lips when she puckered them at you. “I love it too. I feel like we never get this kind of time together, just the two of us, no distractions, no interruptions.”

She smiled, her fingers intertwining with yours. “You’re right. It’s nice to not have anything pulling us away for once.”

As she hit play on the next movie, this time a comedy that neither of you had seen before, you snuggled even closer together. Determined to make the most of the quiet time and the warmth you had created throughout the day. Every so often, Leah would mutter something funny about a scene, or you’d giggle as she made faces at the overdramatic dialogue. It was like a little bubble of holiday festivities, untouched by the world outside and the normally full calendar.

Halfway through, you took her hand, lacing your fingers through hers. She looked down at your intertwined hands and gave your fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s make this a tradition,” she said softly. “You, me, maybe snow, and every Christmas movie we can handle.” You didn’t live in a place you could rely on snow, in fact you were kind of lucky to get it this year.

You grinned, resting your head on her shoulder. “Deal. Only if we add in our famous hot cocoa with a little extra kick.”

Leah laughed, taking a sip from her mug. “Always,” she promised.

When the final credits rolled, Leah didn’t move to select another movie. Instead, she just sat there, her head resting against yours, her breath soft and steady.

“Thank you for today,” she whispered, breaking the quiet. “I didn’t know how much I needed this.”

You turned to her, feeling a warmth that went beyond the blankets, the cocoa and the alcohol. “Thank you for making it so wonderful.”

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

What The Heart Desires ❤️💚 (BakuKiriMina x Black!F!Reader 18+ Short Fic)

❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Kirishima Ejirou x Mina Ashido x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which two lonely-hearted girls make a wish on a star one Christmas Eve for their hearts’ desires: a Daddy Dom. What they don’t expect that night after their annual Christmas party is to receive that wish in two. When their very special party guests and secret crushes show up unannounced at their door proclaiming their romantic feelings and that these two cuties are theirs, what will our two lonely hearts do? Will they have to choose?

Tags: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Pro!KiriBakuMina (Late 20s-Early 30s); Bimbo!sub!Mina x Bimbo!sub!Reader; Dom!KiriBaku; Fantasy; Comedy; Size Difference; Aphrodisiac; Dubcon/R*pe; Body/Chest Worship; Scar Appreciation; Foreplay; Messy Kissing; Spit Play; Cum Play; S*x w/ S*x Toys; Anal Play; Spanking; Choking; Hair-Pulling; Degradation/Praise; Daddy Kink; DDLG; Mild BDSM; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Slutifcation; Objectification; Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Missionary, Daisy Chain, etc.); Polyamorous; Everyone Is Bi; Mutual Os; Creampies; Ownership; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I had so much fun writing this short fic. I’ll try and do more in the new year with my job & classes as much as I can. I hope y’all enjoyed! -Jazz ❤️❤️

Chapters: ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX. BONUS CHAPTER.

❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️

BONUS CHAPTER: JUST TWO GALS & THEIR DADDIES

The next morning arrives and with it comes Christmas Day! The most joyous time of year!

The winter sun pours through your bedroom window, glistening against the soft, white snow coating your neighborhood in blankets of white.

“Mmm,” you sleepily moan as you feel yourself awakened to the bright, beautiful winter sun. Your body aches in a delicious way and you’re butt-ass naked, snuggled in close to your girlfriend. You look around your bedroom, noticing how clean and quiet it is. Actually, your whole house is quiet. Too quiet.

You look next to you at Mina who is sound asleep and turned away from you. Her back muscles flex as she inhales and exhales, still deep in Dreamland. You don’t see any other spaces in the mattress. You don’t feel any warmth, preferably from the two sexy pros that were with you last night.

They were here last night, weren’t they? You know they were! You felt them. Kissed them. Tasted them. Fucked them and felt them fill you up to the brim. You snuggled with them in front of the fire. That was all real, wasn’t it?

This idea sobers you, pushing your sleep fog away. “Mina?” you ask, your voice soft and fearful. Y

our girlfriend moans in her sleep, shifting in the bed. “Mmm, huh?” she mumbles. She turns to you, her hair in her mouth and drool on her cheek. She wipes it away, smiling at you. “Good morning, baby,” she coos. “Merry Christmas.”

She moves towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You can’t find it in yourself to feel happy about spending another Christmas morning with her. Not when you’re missing two very important people. “Where’s Bakugou and Kiri?” you ask.

The blanket falls off of Mina’s chest, revealing her perky tits to you. “Huh?” she asks, yawning. “What do you mean?”

That is when reality hits you like a pillow sack full of bricks right in the face. Bakugou and Kiri were never here. You must have fallen asleep after too much spiked hot cocoa and your horny mind constructed a wet dream that felt so real that you mistook it for reality.

‘Oh,’ you think, disappointment blooming inside of you. ‘It was just a dream.'

Your eyes grow warm and itchy with unshed tears that you do your very best to push away. Mina’s expression grows concerned, her brows knitted together in worry. “Y/N?” she worriedly asks. “What’s the matter?” She places a hand on your back, comforting you.

But you don’t know how to tell her. You can’t find the words to express your disappointment and utter sadness without sounding insane.

You don’t have your Daddies here. They were never here. That security and affection you thought you felt last night from them are gone. You feel stupid. You can’t believe you really made that dumb wish on a star, thinking it would do something for you and Mina. How could you be such an idiot?

You begin to open your mouth to tell Mina that it’s nothing. That you just had a bad dream and that everything is okay…that is until the smell of pancakes and frying eggs hits your nose. Your eyes widen and your heart pounds excitedly. Could it be…?

Quickly, you jump out of bed and grab your plushy Dynamight bathrobe from your closet before hurrying out of the bedroom. “Y/N!” Mina calls. “Wait! Where are you going?!”

You don’t answer her. Your mind is on hyperdrive as you damn near fly down the steps and race through the living room to the kitchen. You need to see if they’re here. You must know that last night wasn’t just a wonderful, wet dream.

When you finally get to the kitchen and hear the sound of Kiri’s humming, you know with absolute certainty that last night was a reality.

To your utter joy and astonishment, Bakugou stands at the kitchen stove, hyper-fixated on flipping a perfectly circular pancake while three egg yolks fry on the burner beside him.

Kiri is busy setting up the kitchen island and the small breakfast table adjacent to it with the holiday-themed plates Mina bought two years ago along with silverware and glasses. He is wearing a tank top and briefs while Bakugou is shirtless and in his jeans, possibly free-balling (you hope).

Kiri is humming the familiar tune to “Walking in a Winter Wonderland” when he hears your footsteps pad across the floor. He looks at you, his eyes gleaming. “Hey, there you are!” he chirps. “Good morning! I thought for sure that you and Mina would’ve slept in.” A sexy glint appears in his eye. “We did have a very long night last night.”

Bakugou looks up too as he transfers a pancake to a stack of them on the counter. He, too, looks happy to see you, a small smile on his face. A bowl of chocolate chip pancake batter and a plate of cooked bacon sits next to the finished stack of pancakes, meaning he has been up for some time cooking a Christmas breakfast.

You are still so flabbergasted that you can’t even think straight. “Y-You’re here,” you softly stammer. “You’re both here.”

Bakugou raises a curious eyebrow at you. “Of course, we’re here,” he grumbles. “Where the hell else would we be? We spent the night last night.”

So it was real. Everything that happened last night wasn’t a dream. Your body tingles with relief and excitement, overjoyed that your wish was granted.

Mina appears behind you in her custom-made, plushy, pink robe with her name printed on the back in bedazzled letters. “Good morning, Daddies,” she sings, walking into the kitchen.

She walks with the confidence of someone who had good sex the night before, her hair a finger-swept mess and a glow to her skin. “Oooh, pancakes! Are they chocolate chip?!”

She races to Bakugou to take a bite of one, but he snatches her hand away and smacks her on the ass, earning a squeak. “Ah-ah, hands off, Pinkie!” he barks. “I ain’t even fix the eggs yet!”

Mina tuts, pouting and crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re so mean.”

Bakugou finishes scraping the fried eggs out of the pan and leans in, his nose nearly touching hers. His hand cascades down to her butt again, giving it a squeeze. “Pout again and I’ll give you somethin’ to put those lips on,” he whispers.

Mina blushes as red as Kiri’s hair, her lips struggling to not smile. “So lewd!” Kiri cackles, putting a carton of OJ on the table. “Oh, and before we forget…”

He smiles at the both of you and reaches behind a flower vase sitting on the kitchen island. There, he presents two small boxes wrapped in red bows for you and Mina.

“Merry Christmas, baby girls,” he coos, grinning at you. “We bought you both a little somethin’ that we intended to give you at the party.”

Mina places a hand on her chest, gasping at the touching gift. You stare at yours in awe, still unsure if this is a dream or not. It’s just too good to be true.

After she takes her gift, Mina grins at Kiri and Bakugou. “We got something for you both too,” she says with a giggle. Quickly, she heads to the living room and returns with the two gift bags you especially made for them. “Y/N picked it out special for you two.”

Kiri beams at his gift bag while Bakugou stares at it in awe as if he has never gotten one before. You watch in anticipation as they dig into the wrapping paper and pull out their gifts.

You thought hard on these gifts and filled the bags with items catered to them. Bakugou got a new Plus Ultra mug, assorted coffee, and a custom-made plaque with the words “To The Best Pro In The Game! You’re My Hero!” at the bottom.

Kiri isn’t a coffee drinker, so he got new packs of flavored protein powder for his shakes, a $50 Hand and Stone Spa gift card for those muscles, and a fake trophy reading “To The Damn Best & My Favorite Hero!” on the front.

You flush shyly as they stare at their gifts, nervously wriggling your hands. “It’s not much, but it’s something to show how much we appreciate you both.”

Kiri tsks, staring at you and Mina like you are the most precious things to exist. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest?” he coos.

Bakugou blushes, staring at his new mug as if it is a piece of treasure. “Open yours up already,” he impatiently says.

With a giggle, you and Mina open your gift boxes and find two matching necklaces in them. They are gemstones, one pink and one red, hanging from silver chains. You gape at yours, admiring the way the red stone glistening at you.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Mina gasps, admiring her pink one.

“Then you’d better wear it,” Bakugou gruffly replies. “We spent a lot on those.”

Kiri laughs, placing his gift on the side before excitedly taking Mina’s necklace out of the box. “Here, try ‘em on! We’ll put ‘em on you.”

You and Mina turn around, allowing your Daddies to fasten the necklaces around your necks. Your skin tingles from Bakugou’s touch, his fingers brushing against the back of your neck. You pick up the stone adoringly, feeling warm with affection.

You turn around to hug Bakugou, feeling oh-so safe and adored once he has his arms wrapped around you.

”Do you like them?” Kiri asks. Mina turns and embraces him tightly, standing up on her tip-toes to reach him.

"Oh, we do,” she happily sighs. “We’ll have to thank Santa for sending us two Christmas gifts instead of one, won’t we, Y/N?”

She couldn’t have said it better. “Mmm-hmm,” you agree, murmuring into Bakugou’s chest. “That North Star too.”

You have never felt so complete before. Though you have always been happy with Mina, having Bakugou and Kiri here is like finding two puzzle pieces that fit and create a beautiful picture.

You lovingly touch your necklace, smiling thoughtfully up at Bakugou. “I’ll never take mine off,” you say, touched. “Thank you.”

His vermillion eyes flick down to your robe, noticing how your right breast is embroidered with his hero name. “I know a better way you can thank me,” he hums, his fingers toying with your robe.

He presses a soft, deep kiss to your lips that steals the air out of your lungs as his hands toy with the ties keeping your rope closed. “I knew I was your favorite. I guess you’re my biggest fan, huh, baby?”

His lips teasingly trail across your neck, drawing a weak moan out of you. You place your hands on his forearms, indulging in how big they are, as you turn to look at the food sitting on the counter. “W-What about breakfast?” you softly moan.

Bakugou passively eyes the food as he forces you to look at him and only him. “It’ll be fine. My breakfast is right here.”

With a squeak, you feel yourself being lifted up and placed on the kitchen counter, your thighs pried open as he stands between them. He yanks open your robe, revealing your naked body to him.

“Hey, we’re startin’ to feel a little left out,” Kiri tuts. “You’ve still got another little girl here who needs some lovin’.” He places Mina next to you on the counter, her rope slipping open to reveal her hard, pink nipples and Red Riot-themed panties.

She eye-fucks Bakugou as he begins to press kisses down her neck and across her shoulders, his hands gripping her hips. “So how can we thank you for the gifts?” she purrs. “What did you have in mind, Daddy?”

Her hand sneakily trails across your thigh and ghosts across your pussy, drawing a hum out of you. You are quickly growing more excited and hungered. Not for the food, but for the three people in your kitchen that you have come to adore.

Bakugou shares a devious smirk with Kiri before he pulls you to the edge of the counter, making you giggle. “You’re about to find out, brat.”

And after being given two orgasms back to back from your Daddies and your beautiful girlfriend before cleaning up and sitting down for Christmas breakfast, you are more than sure that you’ve received a Christmas miracle this year.

And you’re more than prepared to go into a new year getting on Santa’s nice list. Anything to keep your little family with you for good.

THE END.

[babydollmarauders]

IN THE LIGHTS — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which y/n and Jack are decorating the tree, and he finds another use for the christmas lights

warnings: fluffy cheesiness in the beginning, NSFW CONTENT, bondage, p in v (unprotected), fingering, degradation, praise, spit. (4k words)

notes: welcome to day 7 of the 12 days of kinkmas! where i wrote this smut in…not at all at christmas time! it’s no surprise to me that this is my favorite one because… it’s Jack.

“please, Jack?”

i’ve been begging for a week. pleading with my boyfriend to finally decorate our christmas tree.

usually, when i was back in my own apartment, i would make a fun night out of it with my friends. all of us getting together to listen to christmas music, drink spiked hot cocoa, and decorate my tree before hunkering down for holiday movies with big bowls of popcorn; that were meant to be used to make garland, but somehow always ended up with more in our mouths than on the string. but now i live with my boyfriend and his brother, and i had hoped we could decorate the tree together; starting a new tradition.

Jack seemed to love the idea when i brought it up, knowing how excited i get around the holidays and how much i loved the season. but with his hockey schedule being so busy, we haven’t exactly had the time to decorate it amongst roadies and the various home games and practices.

but now it’s December 20th, five days away from christmas, and he has a rare free night at home.

logically, i know Jack is probably dreading the decorating. my tidy boyfriend will surely hate the various boxes of ornaments around our living room and the sparkly tinsel that always seems to shed onto the floor. i know he’ll probably complain about my putting on the chipmunks christmas album, and the fact that i’m so anal-retentive about the placement of the ornaments and how the lights are spiraled around the tree.

but i also know that he’ll do it to make me happy. i know that although he’ll complain about some things, he’ll smile when i bring out the christmas cookies, and he’ll tease me about how the stockings have to be hung just right on the entertainment center or i’ll get chills and have to fix them while he sleeps.

which is exactly what i’m banking on to persuade him to say yes to giving up his relaxing night of sitting on the couch and watching hockey in order to help me decorate.

Jack looks over at me, situated under his arm on the couch, my cheek pressed to his shoulder as i make my best puppy dog eyes up at him.

“yeah.” he finally sighs, shaking his head as a bright grin breaks out across my face.

“thank you!” i squeal, quickly shifting from his hold. i sling a leg over him, straddling his lap and cupping his face in my hands. i pepper kisses all over his cheeks, forehead, and nose.

“alright, alright!” his face turns pink as he giggles, playfully trying to push me away.

i pull back just long enough to give him some reprieve before swooping back in and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“i love you.” i remind him sweetly, winding my arms behind his neck.

“i love you too, kiss monster.” i laugh at his teasing nickname, leaning forward to press my lips against his once more.

his hands come up to hold my ass and he chuckles into the kiss as i squirm a little at his touch.

“oh, c’mon guys, really?” our moment is broken by Luke’s voice, and i pull back to find my boyfriend’s brother walking through the living room, pulling a hoodie over his head. “other people live here, you know? i don’t wanna see my brother fondling his girlfriend in our living room.”

Jack’s head tips back in laughter, “fondling?”

“yeah, you know, what you were just doing?” Luke raises his eyebrows, pointing at his older brother’s hands that still rest on my butt. “i know you didn’t go to college but that’s like a fifth grade level vocab word, dude.”

“get outta here, you cock-block!” Jack huffs, one hand leaving my body in order to give Luke the middle finger and then shoo him off.

the younger boy shrugs, snagging his coat off the hooks by the front door.

“oh!” i pipe up before he can leave, garnering his attention. “where are you going? Jack said we could decorate the tree tonight! do you wanna join us?”

Luke’s eyes flick from me to his brother, and i look back at my boyfriend to find him looking at his younger sibling with the ‘be nice or i’ll convince Nico to make you skate extra laps’ look.

it’s a pretty oftenly used facial expression between the two, ever since Jack found me crying in our closet early this year because i thought Luke hated me after i moved in. that was also when i learned that Luke doesn’t dislike me, he’s just an extremely blunt person.

“i’m sorry, y/n/n, i have some friends from U of M in town for a couple days. we’re gonna hang out and catch up.” Luke explains nicely, obviously trying not to hurt my feelings. “i look forward to seeing it when i get home though! Jesper said your tree designs are legendary.”

“okay.” i give him an understanding smile, nodding my head. “have fun! and be careful!”

he gives me a thumbs up, heading out the door. as it clicks shut, i look back at my boyfriend, who’s already looking at me with a pitiful smile.

“i’m sorry,” he starts, rubbing a comforting hand up and down my back. “i know you wanted it to be all three of us.”

i shrug, “it’s fine. he should catch up with his friends.”

“it’ll be just us then.” Jack smiles, “a new tradition for us.”

“a new tradition for us.” i repeat, grinning as i lean forward to peck his lips.

**

it took another couple hours for Jack and i to finally get up and drag out all the decorations i had brought when i moved in; the boxes being stuffed in the back of the storage closet.

“jesus, babe.” he huffs, setting the final box down on the coffee table. “i knew you brought a lot, but six boxes?”

i shrug, already pulling the first box open, finding a wide array of ornaments inside.

“a box for everything.” i explain to him, pulling open a second box. “two boxes of ornaments, a box of lights, a box of tinsel, a box of stockings and their hooks, and a box of all my stuff for garland making.”

Jack rolls his eyes, pulling open another box. he reaches his hand in, pulling out a red and white knitted stocking with an embroidered ‘J’ on it.

“is this… for me?” his voice is soft as he looks at me in questioning.

“yeah! i made it after you asked me to move in!”

“you made this? just for me?” he steps in closer to me, a prideful smile on his face. “my girlfriend is magical with her hands.”

i chuckle, pulling the stocking from his grip.

“oh, don’t act like you didn’t already know that.” i wink and he pulls me in by my hips, pulling me flush against him.

“oh trust me, i knew it.” his words drip with lust, his head dipping down to capture my lips in a kiss, but it’s in that moment that the christmas song that fills the air switches, now playing ‘The Chipmunk Song’.

Jack groans, pulling away. “even the music is cock-blocking me tonight.”

the laugh that slips through my lips is quickly followed by a snort, which makes my boyfriend grin, crinkling his nose.

“let’s just start decorating.” he nods at my statement, letting me step away from his touch.

as i begin fluffing the tree branches, making sure they’re nice and spread for the decorations, Jack opens the last few boxes. i glance over for a second, watching him pull out two more stockings, matching his, these ones with Luke and i’s initials on them.

the corners of his lips quirk up as he sets them on the entertainment center, more than likely not wanting to risk hanging them without my guidance.

i finish fluffing the tree, pulling a can of spray snow from the tinsel box, and Jack throws me an odd look as i begin spraying the tree.

“what’s that?” he questions, coming over to join me by the tree.

“it’s spray snow.” i tell him as i continue spraying. “see how it gives the tree a white dusted look, as if it’s been in the snow?”

he nods, his brows still threaded together as he watches. i can feel his eyes on me as i bend over to spray the bottom branches of the tree, making sure no spots are left bare.

but when i stand back up, my boyfriend is stood right behind me, his hands coming down on my waist and pulling my ass against him.

“you know what you’re doing.” he hums, and with the feeling of his semi-hard bulge against me, i have a feeling he doesn’t just mean with the tree.

“Jack.” i scold playfully, turning around in his grip. “the lights please?”

he sighs, letting his hands fall back down to his sides as he steps back.

“right.” he huffs, turning back to the boxes and pulling out a string of perfectly untangled lights, thanks to my storage hack of wrapping them an empty paper towel roll.

he begins unraveling the lights, and once he has the entire string of them into his hands, he sets them to the side.

turning back to me, a smirk is glued to his lips, a dark look in his eyes. i squint at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“what are you thinking?” i ask suspiciously, scanning him up and down. but he just shrugs, feigning innocence.

“who? me? i’m not thinking anything.” he could possibly be convincing, if i didn’t know that exact look all too well.

he’s been horny ever since we were on the couch, and this is his ‘i just got a dirty idea’ face.

“i’ll tell you what,” i start, holding a finger up to stop him mid-step forward. he hums, urging me to continue.

“you’re horny, i’m horny, we both want sex right now. but, you know how much doing the tree means to me. after we finish the tree, we can do whatever dirty little thing just popped into your head. but first, i want the tree done.”

Jack nods rapidly, “deal!”

i giggle at his excitement, watching as he turns back around and grabs the lights again, walking over to the tree.

“alright, how do we do this?”

i guide Jack through plugging the lights in before spiraling them around the tree, from bottom to top. once that’s done, Jack lifts me up, letting me place the topper on the tree.

“what’s next?” he asks me, standing in front of all the open boxes, his hands on his hips.

“draping the tinsel.” he groans at my words, pulling the tinsel out of its box.

we work together to spiral it around the tree, making sure it doesn’t cover the lights, before we finally start on ornaments.

with the two of us, it doesn’t take too long, but i can tell my boyfriend is getting impatient. especially with the way he keeps having to lift me up to put ornaments on the top branches, my body pressed against his as he does so.

the last thing we do is the stockings, me guiding Jack on how to space them out so that they’re evenly spaced at the front of the entertainment center.

when we finally finish it all, about an hour and a half later, i stand back, looking over our finished project with a smile.

Jack stands behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, my back pulled against his chest.

“it looks great, baby.” he compliments, pressing a kiss to my cheek. blood rushes to my face, biting my lip. “Jesper was right, you really are legendary.”

“thank you, love.”

he wastes no time, squeezing my waist tighter as he speaks up again, “so…”

“yes, Jack.” i laugh, nodding my head. “now we can do whatever you thought of earlier.”

he excitedly pulls away, spinning me around and gripping my chin, making me look up at him. his eyes are dark, his voice low as he speaks.

“go to the bedroom, i want you naked and on the bed when i get in there.”

i nod, speeding off to the bedroom. as soon as i step through the threshold of our room, i’m tearing my sweater over my head, letting it drop to the floor. as i walk over to the bed, i unclip my bra, throwing it to the side as well. i stop at the edge of the bed, peeling my jeans down my legs, along with my panties, leaving me bare as i crawl to the middle of the bed.

i sit quietly, my legs tucked under me and my hands clasped on my knees.

the soft flow of christmas music from the living room stops, and i can hear Jack’s footsteps down the hall, getting closer and closer. i squirm a little in excitement, shifting my weight around and squeezing my thighs together.

he steps into the bedroom, one hand behind his back, smirking when he sees that i did what he told me.

“good girl.” he gruffs, stepping up to the edge of the mattress. “give me your hands.”

i hold my hands out, and it’s then that he brings his own out from behind his back, a spare string of lights in his grasp.

“what are you doing?” i ask, but my question is answered by his actions.

he grips my hands in one hand, pressing my wrists together, and begins wrapping the lights around my them.

“is this okay?” he asks softly, looking me in the eye as he speaks. i smile at his care, grateful to have a boyfriend that makes sure i give explicit consent to what he’s doing.

“yeah.” i nod, “this is okay.”

“you remember your safe word?” he finishes tying the lights around my wrists, not too tight, but just enough that i can’t slip my hands through.

“assist.” i tell him, and he smiles in confirmation.

“good.”

and like a flip of a switch, the soft and gentle Jack is gone, replaced by a dark and dominating one.

he allows me to watch him pull his hoodie cover his head, bringing his t-shirt with it, before he pushes me back on the bed. he crawls slowly over top of me, pushing my arms above my head and dipping down to lock his lips with mine.

the kiss is rough and dominating, his tongue pushing past my lips to tangle with mine. he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, pulling back with it caught between his teeth before letting it pop back into place.

he trails hot, wet kisses down my jawline, sucking gently at my neck as his hand grips my breast harshly, pinching my nipple between his fingers and pulling.

my back arches, pushing my breasts up towards him, a moan sounding from my throat.

“Jack.” i whimper as his hand begins to trail down my abdomen, getting closer and closer to where i need him.

i can feel him smirk against my skin, dipping his fingers down to find my clit. my hips buck against him, my hands pulling against the lights in attempt to separate so i can grip his back, and i whine when they can’t.

he begins to circle my clit with his thumb, rubbing in figure eights, and the high pitched sounds escaping my lips bounce off the walls of the bedroom.

my eyes squeeze shut, my chin tipping up towards the ceiling, and Jack pulls his lips from my neck, staring down at me and admiring my blissed state.

while his thumb rubs, he runs a finger through my wetness using it as lubrication to slip one finger into my heat.

my walls clench at the intrusion, my eyes rolling back as he crooks his finger inside of me.

“Jacky, please.” i breathe out, grinding myself down upon his hand. my own hands grip the pillow above me, the only thing i can think to do with them restricted.

“such a slut. you wanna come so bad, don’t you?” he spits out, “wanna make a mess all over my hand.”

i whimper, nodding my head rapidly as he slips a second finger into me, thrusting and curling them to push against my g-spot.

pressure builds in my stomach as he continues fucking me with his fingers, stretching me with a third digit. my toes curl, my walls clenching around him, and i know he can tell i won’t last much longer.

“you wanna come? say it.” Jack leans forward, whispering in my ear. “say you wanna come on my fingers like a fucking slut.”

i gasp as he thrusts his fingers in again, my orgasm quickly approaching.

“i’m a slut.” i squeak, a moan falling past my lips. “i wanna come on your fingers like a slut.”

i pry my eyes open, my boyfriend hovering his face above mine, and he nods.

“come.” he commands, and as if he summoned it out of me, my climax hits, my breath catching in my throat as the knot in my stomach disperses, my eyes rolling back and my hands struggling against their restraints.

Jack’s fingers still, only his thumb continues moving against my clit, and he leans down to kiss me. pulling away once my orgasm is done.

he sits back, pulling his fingers out of me and leaving me clenching around nothing, feeling empty. his hand smacks my thigh, and i open my eyes again to look at him, watching as his hand rises to his lips, sucking his fingers clean of my release, one at a time.

i release a shaky breath as he hums, my eyes falling down to find his erection straining against his sweatpants.

“you taste so sweet, baby.” he whispers, bringing my attention back to his face. “you want a taste?”

my lips part, nodding, and he smirks; but instead of pushing a finger to my lips, he dips down to eye level with my pussy, his tongue darting out as he starts licking through my arousal. my hips wiggle, bucking up against him, and he pushes them down before pulling away.

he crawls back over top of me, squeezing my jaw open, and spits, letting a slow string of my cum drip down onto my tongue. he closes my jaw, raising an eyebrow at me, and i swallow before opening again, sticking my tongue out to show him.

“such a good girl for me.” he praises.

my arms ache, and i contemplate asking him to untie me, but instead i wait for him to crawl off of me before i lower them back down to my stomach.

i watch with baited breath and a bitten lip as he drags his sweatpants down his hips, his boxers going with. his cock springs free, slapping against his lower stomach as he kicks his bottoms to the side.

my whine echoes through the room at the sight, longing to feel him in my hand, and Jack finds amusement in my torture, slowly walking back to the bed.

“you want my cock so bad, don’t you?” he pouts, mocking me. “you want me buried in your tight little pussy, filling you up?”

i let out a strangled whimper, nodding my head.

“please.” i beg, already knowing where this is headed. “please, Jack, i want you. i want you to fuck me so bad.”

he climbs onto the bed, cupping my cheek as he settles over top of me.

“you made me wait, maybe i should make you wait too.” he teases, beginning to pull back, but i quickly lock my arms around his neck, holding him in place. my tied up wrists helping in my endeavor. i shake my head.

“no, please. i’ll be good.” i plead. “i’ll be so good, just please fuck me.”

Jack nods, pressing a kiss to my lips. “okay.”

he uses his knee to spread my thighs further apart, one hand wrapping around himself, guiding his dick through my folds. my legs wrap around his waist, my back arching as his tip rubs against my swollen clit.

“you ready?” he stares down into my eyes, raised brows as he questions me.

“yes,” i start, “plea-”

i don’t even get to finish my words, cut off as he thrusts deep into me. i squeak, my eyes rolling back as he wastes no time; pulling almost all the way out before harshly snapping his hips against mine again.

“shit!” he curses, and i blink my eyes open to watch his head tip back in pleasure. “squeezing me like a fucking vice, baby.”

his voice is strained, and my hands grip his back to ground myself, my nails digging into his skin, surely leaving crescent shaped indentations.

his strokes slow before speeding up again, getting rougher with each thrust. my breathing quickens, and i use my arms to pull his lips back to mine.

our lips move in tandem, his tongue poking through to taste mine, our connection occasionally broken for a moan or a breath. i trail away from his lips, dragging the tip of my tongue along his jaw until a reach the end, placing an open mouthed kiss below his ear.

he groans, my hips bucking up to meet his thrusts, and i suck his earlobe between my lips before i go back to his.

our kisses are messy, teeth clashing with our rushed movements, but it fits the scene perfectly. his hand comes down to cup my breast, pinching and pulling my nipple as our skin slaps together.

the pressure begins to build again, a knot tying in my stomach, and my abdomen tightens, my walls clenching around him.

i’m still oversensitive from my first orgasm, and i can feel my second rapidly approaching.

“fuck, you gonna come on my cock?” he grunts, and i shake my head ‘yes’, speechless at the feeling that’s washing over me.

“do it.”

my body tenses, the sensations of him thrusting inside me while playing with my nipples throwing me over the edge. my nails dig deeper into his back as i finish, and his thrusts become sloppier and hurried.

within a minute, his hips stutter, his body tensing just like mine had moments ago, and he quickly pulls out, ropes of cum painting my stomach as he finishes.

our heavy breaths are the only sound left in the apartment, Jack bowing out from under my arms and flopping down on the bed beside me.

we take a few moments to replenish the oxygen in our lungs and Jack gently unties my wrists, pressing kisses to the skin there, despite them being perfectly fine.

as soon as my hands are free, i’m swiping a digit through his release on my stomach, looking over at him as i lick his cum off my finger.

“fuck.” he drags out, lust rejuvenating in his eyes. “baby, you’ve already had 2 orgasms, don’t make me wanna give you another.”

i bite back a smile, shrugging my shoulders, and he gets up, stalking into our en-suite bathroom, coming back a second later with a wet washcloth. he kneels on the bed, wiping my stomach clean before disappearing again.

when he reappears, he holds one of his t-shirts from our closet in our en-suite. he pulls on some clean boxers from his drawers, pulling another pair out, before coming back over to me. he helps me into the extra boxers, before i sit up.

“arms up, baby.” i follow his directions, letting him slip the t-shirt over my head before snuggling back into my pillow.

he climbs back into bed, pulling me closer until my head rests on his chest, and i mellow, listening to his heartbeat.

“so, is that part of the tradition too? or just the tree decorating?” he jokes, making me giggle in amusement.

his arms tighten around me as he places a kiss to my hair.

“check back next year, i’ll decide then.”

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Who Dares Summon Me: Human Vaggie & Charlie

Vaggie: (sitting in the living room of a piece of shit apartment and reading from a "demon summoning" book. the sound of gunfire and police sirens barely even registers to her ears anymore)

Vaggie: Okay, so I got the Pentagram, a goat (glances at two goat plushies she stole from a name brand toy store) Fuckers will live..... they make millions in a day.

Vaggie: Candles... (glances at the Bath & Body Works, cinnamon and vanilla scented candles)

Vaggie: And... blood.... uh.... (Looks at the bucket filled with water, corn syrup, red food coloring, and cocoa powder to help create a blood effect) Fuck... demons can tell the difference between real and fake blood, right? Dammit.

Vaggie: (cuts her finger with her pocket knife and lets] a few drops fall into the bucket) There. That should work. Now, let's see-

Lute: (comes out of her room half naked and throws a pair of panties at Vaggie) Yo, Vagina! Adam stole your underwear again as a prank, I guess. Here.

Vaggie: (gawks as she catches the garment and spikes it to the floor) Lute! What the fuck?! Can't you control your fucking boyfriend??? How did he even get into my room?! I keep it locked for that reason.

Lute: (grabs a beer out of the fridge, pops the cap off on the counter, starts chugging, and flips off Vaggie as she returns to her room for whatever round she and Adam are on)

Vaggie: Sick perverted sons of bitches... (turns back to the book) Read the forbidden script and make a pact. (Scoffs) Okay, edge lords. I'll give it a go.

Vaggie: (recites the script with some difficulty)

..........

Vaggie: (relaxes her back against the couch) Can't say I'm surprised. I literally bought this online for six-

-Fire tornado erupts from the Pentagram and burning red eyes stare down at Vaggie from the inferno-

Demon Charlie: WHO dares summon the powerful Princess of Hell- Oh, fuck!!! (Trips over the bucket and falls face first into Vaggie's lap, revealing that she is wearing a red dress with black thigh high stockings)

Vaggie: Jesus Fucking Christ!!!

Demon Charlie: (face still pressed against Vaggie's crotch) You have a very comfortable lap.

Vaggie: (grabs demon's horns and pulls her up so they're sitting in front of each other) You're actually a demon?

Demon Charlie: (blinks) Considering the fact that you're still holding my horns, I have this adorable little tail (waves her heart-shaped tail in hello), and I came straight up from Hell because of your summoning circle. Yup! (Sees the plushies and gasps) Oh! You even gave Razzle and Dazzle their own conduits! You're so sweet!

Vaggie: ...........Who?

Demon Charlie: Razzle and Dazzle! You know. My pets. It's written in chatper six, paragraph five, sentence three. (Snaps her fingers and the two goat plushies turn into two living goat demons with wings)

Vaggie: (scouring the book) What?!

Demon Charlie: (snuggling her boys) Also, I know you had to use a little of your own blood to make this work, which I promise to help heal that cut on your finger by the way, but Thank You So Much for just using fake blood! I always feel so bad when people actually use a bucket of real blood. I usually let my dad take those summonings.

Vaggie: (glances at the bucket rolling across the floor then back to the demon) Y-Youre dad?

Demon Charlie: Lucifer, the King of Hell. (Light bulb goes off) Oh! I never completed my introduction! I'm Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell and heir to the throne. Pleased to meet you!

Vaggie: Uh.... Vaggie.... I never would have expected the Princess of Hell to be so..... bubbly....

Demon Charlie: I get that a lot. Now! What can I do for you? How can I help? Do you need money? Power? A soul you'd like for me to devour?

Vaggie: N-No... nothing quite like that....

Demon Charlie: Oh, thank Satan! I hate eating souls. Most of them taste so bad!

Vaggie: Uh-huh.... Well.... I don't really have anything for you. I got bored and decided I'd try this out...

Demon Charlie: (disappointed) Really? But you sold me your virginity. Surely, there's something you want in exchange!

Vaggie: I'm sorry. WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?

Demon Charlie: Drop of virgin blood and (holds up Vaggies lavender panties) an article of clothing that covers your most intimate desire.

Vaggie: (silently screaming)

Demon Charlie: H-Hey! If it makes you feel any better, I'm still a virgin, too! (Under her breath) Not from lack of trying on other asshole's accunts, but still....

Vaggie: Ay, Dios mio!

Demon Charlie: Well, I can't take your payment until you come up with something you want, soooooooo! (Transforms into a human)

Charlie: (snuggles up to Vaggie's side) I'll just have to stay here with you until you come up with something!

Vaggie: (catatonic)

[tinydefector]

Hello! Can I request the perfume scenario but with Soundwave this time, please? 🥺 I really admire your works! Hope you have a nice day <3

For Soundwave the small drifting fragrance has him stopping in his traces instantly it doesn't matter what he is doing or where he is, the moment he even detects the perfume he knows its you, knows it by the subtle scent of your skin that is enhanced by the perfume. He leaves whatever he is doing to track you down. It doesn't matter if it's checking cameras, spying on his targets, or in a meeting with the Decepticon higher-ups. He will make quite a show of it with leaving meetings because the others can smell it too, and they watch like hawks as he walks out, knowing full well where the Communications officer was heading.

Soundwave is a rather smug mech. He won't voice it, but he is very smug, but he's also very willing to put other bots into their place. So when he arrives back at his quarters and can see other bots sniffing around, all he needs is to send a high-powered static pulse from his EM field before they are scurrying away. But the moment he enters his quarters, it's a different mood.

Soundwave is one of a few cybertronian who have enough resolve not to pounce. He enjoys playing and toying with you. He will pretend to ignore you while he pours him a glass of high grade before he makes himself comfortable in his seat. He will retract his mask as he slowly sips his drink, watching the way you squirm under his gaze.

He's a smug mech becuase he will have you begging in his lap without even saying anything to you and without even touching you, he will even hold out his drink for you to swirl your hand in before his glossa is picking the high grade off your arm and then wait for you to reapply the perfume. If energon hadn't been dangerous to the human nerves system, he would have had you laying in a bowl of energon for his own pleasure, but he would settle for the safer option. Sometimes, he will even use you as his own personal snack plate, with carbon swirls, magnesium and bismuth crunches, and even energon and Galium crystal candies.

That's how you end up sitting on his spike. He continues to enjoy his drink. Watching the way you move and take him. This was his guilty pleasure, using perfume, high grade, and your skins pheromones as his own way of riding a high. He's a tender lover and makes sure you're satisfied by the end.

For Soundwave, you don't smell or taste like his favourite treat. You are the treat. He loves the blended mix of your skin, perfume, and high grade mixed together.

________

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[peter-parkers-left-pinky]

The Twelve Screams of Christmas

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

A/n: So I just felt like writing a Christmas thing, don’t ask why. This is the first one shot that I’ve made and decided to post. Just to preface this, Y/n Chekhova is a former Russian Hydra agent. (I swear the Russian part is relevant). Also I want to add that I interpreted Peter Parker as an adult in this.

9:10 AM — Avengers Compound, Common Room

Tony Stark was humming Let It Snow under his breath as he stirred his overpriced eggnog latte with a candy cane. He was, by all accounts, in an excellent mood. Christmas was in full swing, the tree was lit, the food was hot, and nobody had tried to blow up the compound yet. That was a win in his book.

Most of the team was already in the kitchen, crowding around the massive buffet Tony had forced the catering staff to prepare. Steve was trying (and failing) to slice a honey-glazed ham with a knife that definitely wasn’t meant for meat. Sam and Rhodey were arguing over whether Die Hard was a Christmas movie (again). Carol was spiking her cocoa with something strong enough to light a jet engine.

It was all very on brand.

Except…

Tony checked his Rolex again, brows knitting.

“Ten minutes late,” he muttered.

Bruce glanced up from the French toast station. “Who?”

“Y/n and Nat.”

Bruce blinked. “They’re late?”

Tony nodded solemnly. “Y/n Chekhova. The human chronometer. Miss I-Show-Up-At-Mission-Briefings-Twenty-Five-Minutes-Early-Even-If-It’s-On-Fire. That one.”

Clint looked up from his plate. “Maybe they’re just… y’know, being married.”

“Exactly. Which means someone has to go get them, now, before they make me miss the toast schedule.” Tony pointed dramatically at Peter.

Peter, who had been happily inhaling powdered sugar waffles, froze.

“No,” he said, mouth still full. “Absolutely not.”

Tony shrugged. “You’re her best friend. She tolerates you. That’s about the highest honor you can achieve with Chekova. Go on. Knock on the door. Say it’s breakfast time.”

“I don’t wanna die.”

“She won’t kill you.”

“Natasha might.”

Tony looked at him with pure, smug confidence. “That’s a risk I’m willing to let you take.”

Peter turned to Clint, eyes wide and desperate. “You’re coming with me.”

Clint sighed. “No I’m not.”

Peter grabbed his arm. “Clint. If she doesn’t kill me, Natasha will. You’ve walked in on them before, right?”

“Twice,” Clint said blandly.

Peter stared. “How are you still functioning as a person?”

“I drink. A lot.”

⸻

9:15 AM — Outside the Romanoff-Chekhova Bedroom

Peter stood in front of the door like it was the gates of hell.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Just knock. Say ‘Merry Christmas.’ Don’t look inside. Everything’s fine.”

Clint leaned against the wall, sipping his coffee. “You’re overthinking it.”

Peter gave him a withering glare. “You don’t overthink interrupting two elite Russian assassins during potential holiday sex!”

Clint smirked. “I don’t think. That’s why I’m still alive.”

Peter groaned, braced himself… and pushed the door open.

Because of course he did.

And of course, the universe hated him.

⸻

9:16 AM — The Worst Decision of Peter’s Life

The door creaked open and Peter barely had time to register what he was seeing before the image was permanently burned into his retinas.

Natasha was on top.

Y/n was underneath, blanket mostly kicked off, hands clenched into the sheets like she was about to launch into orbit. Her face was flushed, her hair a chaotic mess, and her expression—somewhere between shocked and mortified—snapped from dazed to homicidal in a second.

Peter froze.

Clint peeked in over his shoulder, gave a tired sigh, and immediately turned back around.

“Oh hell no,” Clint muttered. “That’s a you problem.”

Y/n screamed—in full-volume, furious Russian.

“ЗАКРОЙТЕ ДВЕРЬ! ЗАКРОЙТЕ ДВЕРЬ СЕЙЧАС, ПОЖАЛУЙСТА, Я УМОЛЯЮ! ЗА ЧТО?! ЗА ЧТО, ПИТЕР?!”*

Peter screamed back. “I’M SORRY! OH MY GOD—I’M SO SORRY!”

He flailed backward, nearly tripping over Clint’s foot, red from head to toe.

Natasha, still entirely too calm, barely glanced at them. She tilted her head like she was judging the weather forecast.

“Next time, Peter,” she said smoothly, voice laced with that signature assassin chill, “you knock.”

Peter scrambled for the hallway like the room was on fire.

“Oh—also,” Natasha added as he reached the threshold, “please close the door.”

He slammed it shut like it personally offended him.

⸻

9:20 AM — Kitchen

Peter arrived back at the table, hair wild, sweater askew, and looking like he’d just escaped a horror film.

Tony looked up from his mimosa. “Well?”

Peter sat down in silence.

Tony gave him a cheeky grin. “You find them?”

Peter said nothing. Just picked up a napkin and covered his own face with it like that would erase the trauma.

Clint walked in a moment later, calm as ever, and grabbed another cinnamon roll. “Yup. They’re alive. And busy.”

Tony raised his glass. “As predicted. What a beautiful Christmas miracle.”

Peter finally muttered from under the napkin. “She screamed at me in Russian. I think I have PTSD now.”

Tony sipped his drink. “Put it in a report.”

⸻

Meanwhile — 9:23 AM, Bedroom

Natasha hadn’t moved.

Y/n, on the other hand, was face-down in a pillow, still swearing in Russian between muffled groans of shame.

“You didn’t lock the door,” she growled into the pillow.

“You were on top first,” Natasha said casually, sliding back down beside her. “It’s your job.”

“My job is not—” Y/n sat up slightly, flushed to her ears. “—to be publicly humiliated because of your inability to plan for interruption!”

Natasha smirked. “They shouldn’t have barged in.”

“They are Avengers. Not dogs.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Tony sent Peter. That’s basically a puppy with anxiety and a physics degree.”

Y/n flopped back down with a groan. “This is your fault.”

“You’ll live.”

“You said we had time.”

“I said I’d make it worth the time.”

Y/n turned her head slowly. “You are devil.”

“I’m your devil.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “Lock door next time.”

“I will,” Natasha said, not looking sorry at all. “Eventually.”

And then she climbed right back on top, because Natasha Romanoff didn’t like to leave a job half done.

⸻

10:00 AM — Finally Arriving at Breakfast

When Y/n and Natasha finally arrived in the kitchen, they looked suspiciously well-groomed. Natasha was smug. Y/n was wearing a hoodie, hood up and her eyes locked firmly on the ground like it might swallow her whole if she focused hard enough.

Peter refused to look at either of them. In fact, he just pushed his plate away and went to lie on the floor.

Tony beamed. “There they are! Merry Christmas, newlyweds!”

Y/n muttered, “You are reason I suffer.”

Natasha kissed her cheek. “Merry Christmas to you too, dorogaya.”

Tony raised his glass again.

“To unlocked doors, bad timing, and emotionally resilient best friends!”

Peter whimpered from the floor.

Y/n glared at him from across the room. Peter made the sign of the cross.

Clint just started pouring Bailey’s into his coffee and muttering about early retirement.

It was, undeniably, the most festive disaster of the year.

———————————————-

*Russian translation: CLOSE THE DOOR! CLOSE THE DOOR NOW, PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU! FOR WHAT?! WHY, PETER

[turn-my-hollow-purple]

AOT at a Christmas Party

I have no caption... it's finals season I wanna die

Eren: the party is at his apartment; lowkey forgot that he's hosting the party and that he actually needs to have food; claims it's a last minute pot luck; doesn't clean his place and ends up ordering pizza

Mikasa: brings a bunch of homemade cookies... it's diverse, some being good and some being... not so good; she doesn't understand the excitement of Christmas but she partakes in the activities; gets to the party half an hour early (before everyone else) and cleans up Eren's apartment because she knew he wouldn't have it clean

Armin: wears an ugly Christmas sweater and thinks that it's super cute; brings a big kettle of hot cocoa (it's his specialty); is DJing the Christmas music

Jean: doesn't know how to cook so he brings a box of store bought Christmas cookies (they're literal shit and no one eats them and he gets offended); wears a beanie and claims it's "Christmas spirit" enough

Connie: genuinely shows up wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper and is wearing antlers or some shit; continues to make jokes about how everyone should jingle his bells; shows up without anything

Sasha: is an amazing baker and shoes up with a shit ton of Christmas baked goodies (cookies, bread, cakes, etc.); and she honestly eats half of the stuff she brings

Erwin: can't cook to save his goddamn life so he brings a case of shitty beers; wears a green sweater and doesn't quite understand that it doesn't 'fit the Christmas spirit'; enjoys watching everyone interact because he never had family Christmas' like this

Levi: is just wearing all black and doesn't take shit about it; brings a box of 12 store bought cookies despite there being more than a dozen people at the party; spends the evening in the corner of the party, watching everyone and secretly enjoying it

Hange: shows up wrapped in Christmas lights... it's a look! attempts to cook and bring a main dish (like a turkey or ham) and omfg is it horrible... it's either burnt or not cooked at all and genuinely could conduct food poisoning; is wayyyy too into the Christmas activities and wants to actual roast chestnuts on a fire

Annie: brings a batch of brownies (box mix) and is always seen with a drink in her hand; however she's smiling the whole time, enjoying how excited Armin is about the festivities; threatens to beat up anyone who says anything bad about Armin's sweater (she's the only one allowed to do that)

Bertholdt: honestly, he can cook and shows up with a few side dishes... mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, cranberry sauce, etc.; he gets really excited about small things such as giving gifts, spending time with friends, and Armin's hot chocolate

Reiner: brings eggnog except he tries making it and doesn't know what it is so he just beat an egg in some milk (close enough); Annie convinced him to wear this HORRIBLE Christmas sweater because she said it would look good on him (spend the whole night being bullied for it)

Ymir: spikes Armin's hot chocolate with vodka; shows up pre-drunk to the party even though she knew there would be drinks; she also ate before-hand because she knew the food would be shit; shows up empty handed and when she gets called out she claims "she brought the life of the party"

Historia: begs everyone to go Christmas caroling (and is somehow able to convince everyone to do it); she also has everyone pile in and take a Christmas photo together (which is miraculous); brings gifts for everyone even though they all agreed to not bring any

[commander-please]

☕ “You (harmlessly) spike their drink…”

>>> Clone Commander Edition

Commander Cody

Reaction: Sips. Freezes. Stares into the cup like it betrayed him.

> “…What. Is. In this.”

> His entire personality resets for two seconds. It's caramel. You added caramel. And a lot of it. He glares at you over the rim like you insulted his ancestors, but continues drinking anyway.

> Quietly finishes it. Secretly likes it. You catch him ordering it again two days later — grumbling.

---

Captain Rex

Reaction: Confused sip. Soft blink. Emotional damage.

> “…Did you… put marshmallows in my caf?”

> He sounds so betrayed. Stares at the floating puffballs like they’re Sith artifacts. Doesn’t stop drinking it though. Fives is in tears. Rex gets flustered and swears he doesn’t like it, but he definitely does.

> Finds one leftover marshmallow in his cup and stares at it like it holds secrets to the universe.

---

Commander Wolffe

Reaction: Spits it out. Growls. Death glare unlocked.

> “Who. Did. This.”

> You smile. He scowls. The caf was spiked with cinnamon syrup and a dash of glitter sprinkles. He’s furious. His men are terrified. But he still drinks it. All of it. While aggressively maintaining eye contact.

> You are in danger — but it was worth it. He makes you pay next time: black caf, no sweeteners, extra bitter.

---

Commander Fox

Reaction: Absolute panic. Suspicion overload.

> “…Why does it taste like happiness? What did you do?”

> Drinks it. Pauses. Glares at the cup. Glares at you. Thinks he’s being set up. Demands to know if this is a prank. When you confess it’s just vanilla syrup, he looks ten years older.

> Drinks the rest in silent judgment. Is secretly touched. But files a complaint anyway.

---

Commander Gree

Reaction: Thoughtful sip. Then a full analysis.

> “Hm. I detect notes of hazelnut. And… rebellion.”

> Doesn’t mind. In fact, he goes into full sensory breakdown mode like a caf sommelier. Describes the “flavor profile” with the intensity of a wine critic. > You find out he’s been cataloging every variation of your “experiments.” Kind of loves it.

---

Commander Bly

Reaction: Chokes. Coughs. Smiles anyway.

> “What—spice?! Did you put spice in this?!”

> You added a tiny bit of hot sauce. Just to see what would happen. He blinks tears out of his eyes, laughs through it, and calls you “vicious.”

> Finishes the whole cup. Starts sweating. Asks for a second one. You monster.

---

Commander Thorn

Reaction: Laughs mid-sip and nearly spills it.

> “You tried to sabotage me? Adorable.”

> Finds it hilarious. You swapped his caf with whipped cream and sugar syrup. He drinks it like it’s battle fuel and starts assigning you ridiculous drink names: “Little Miss Sweetshot.”

> Gets you back by replacing your water with caf the next day. It escalates. Quickly.

---

Commander Bacara

Reaction: Silent. Terrifying. Sips once. Nods.

> “…Acceptable.”

> You spiked it with chocolate. Like, full-blown cocoa-caf. He stares at you. Says nothing. Walks away. You think you’re safe.

> Two days later, your entire bunk is filled with empty caf cups labeled “Sweetner Unit 1.” You’ve been claimed. Somehow.

---

Commander Neyo

Reaction: Doesn't flinch. Just stares.

>“…Why does it taste like cinnamon frosting?”

> Sips it like it’s a lab sample. Makes direct eye contact. Does not stop drinking. Gives you a 43-second monologue on how sugar affects tactical response.

> You’re unsure if he liked it or is plotting your downfall. He requests it again tomorrow with a note: “Control Group B.”

---

Commander Appo

Reaction: Sips. Freezes. Blushes.

> “W-Wait. Is this… strawberry?”

> You turned his caf into a strawberry milk monstrosity. He panics. Fives is screaming. You pat his back and say, “Just a little love.” He nearly combusts. Drinks it anyway.

> Forgets what he was supposed to be doing all day. Later asks, shyly, if you have any more.

[runninriot]

written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Day 10

prompt: first kiss | rated: T | cw: underage drinking | tags: Robin, Steve & Eddie are friends, confessions, coming out

“What d’you mean you never had your first kiss?”

Oops. Did he say that out loud? Shit. Eddie knew he should’ve gone easy on the rum. But they’ve been running around town all afternoon to buy Christmas presents for the kids and when they finally made their way back to Steve’s, the idea of having some rum-spiked hot cocoa to warm them up from the inside sounded great. And it was - up until now.

Now, he’s being reminded of the fact that alcohol loosens his tongue, makes him say things he usually would keep to himself.

“Uh, yeah? It’s no big deal.” Eddie tries to play it down, tries to ignore the heat spreading uncomfortably in his cheeks.

“No. Hold up. Eddie, are you really telling me you’ve never kissed anyone? Not once?” Steve’s eyes are huge and Eddie searches for mockery in them, finds only honest confusion.

“Well, Steve. Not everyone starts their slutty era as young as you did,” Robin defends him. Maybe because she can sense how embarrassed Eddie feels. Maybe because she knows something about him that Steve doesn’t.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Keep making fun of me but- I can’t believe it, Eddie. You’re 19 and no one has ever been worthy enough for you to kiss them?”

The way he phrases it makes Eddie’s insides twist into a knot, makes his heart flutter at the notion of Steve actually thinking anyone had ever wanted to kiss him.

Because the truth is that no one has.

“What can I say? Maybe I’m just waiting for the right one.” Eddie laughs, makes it sound like a silly joke to hide the fact that in another universe, the right one would be sitting right next to him. Not in this life, though. He’ll never know what Steve’s lips taste like.

“I’d rather not had my first kiss at all than the one I got. Middle school, Jackson Hughes. Planted one right on me, wet and sloppy. Ugh, guess that’s when I knew I don’t like boys.”

Steve shoots her an alarmed look.

“It’s okay, Steve. He knows,” Robin answers his silent question, obviously referring to Eddie knowing about her being a lesbian.

“Oh. G-good. That’s good.”

“Takes one to know one.” Eddie chokes on a laugh.

FUCK!

Did he really just out himself in front of Steve?

As if his earlier confession hadn’t been enough to throw him off, the look on Steve’s face now is even worse. Not like- he doesn’t look disgusted or anything. More like, surprised. His facial expressions going from confused to… soft? So soft in fact, that Eddie suddenly has a hard time breathing.

“Oookay. That was awkward. Moving on. Who wants another?” Eddie quickly jumps up from the sofa, waving his empty cup at the others, not even waiting for their response before he makes his way to the kitchen.

He needs to do something, needs to get away. Splash some cold water into his face to cool down, sober up. Maybe getting another drink isn’t a good idea, after all.

Eddie braces his hands on the edge of the counter, drops his head down and sighs.

Shitshitshit!

Yeah, nope. He should not get another drink. Not if he doesn’t cut out his own tongue first. He already said too much, already confessed too many things for one evening. What comes next? Telling Steve that he’s hopelessly in love with him?

Over my dead body.

No one needs to know that. Especially not Steve. So, yeah. Definitely no more rum for him. He should probably go home and hide under his blanket until the end of days or at least-

“Eddie?”

He turns around quickly, trying his best to steady himself.

“Are you okay?”

Steve’s eyes are warm and his voice is gentle and Eddie just wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Yeah. Just needed a minute. That was not exactly how I planned on telling you.” Eddie laughs but it sounds strange even to his own ears.

God, you’re pathetic.

The other boy steps closer and Eddie feels like he’s frozen in place. His heart beats like crazy when Steve stops only inches away from him, so close now that Eddie can feel warmth radiating off Steve’s body.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you, too. A-about me.”

Eddie thinks he can feel, hear, and smell the wires in his brain short-circuiting. His mouth drops open, eyes blown wide in disbelief.

What?

“I’m… bi. Apparently.” He shrugs his shoulders and smiles shyly at him.

“Th- that’s. Cool.” Eddie stutters, doesn’t really know what to say when his mind offers nothing he can share.

Steve likes boys? Maybe I have a chance. Maybe he likes me too? Shut up, Munson! He’s so pretty. I want to kiss him so badly...

“And I-“ Steve bites down on his bottom lip as if he’s trying to prevent himself from talking.

“I wanted to tell you for a while that I-“

Eddie knows he’s being delusional but he can’t take it anymore. He needs to know.

“I like you, Steve. A lot. I-“

Steve's whole face lights up and Eddie's head is spinning.

“Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t know how exactly it happens or who starts it but somehow he finds himself glued to Steve’s lips not even a second later - his hands in Steve’s hair, Steve’s hands wrapped around his middle, their bodies pressed against one another so close that he thinks he can feel Steve’s heartbeat in his own chest.

Eddie must’ve died and gone to heaven because he is kissing Steve and Steve is kissing him back and it’s nothing like anything he’s ever felt or tasted before. A tender brush of lips, a hesitant tongue asking silently for permission, Steve’s hot breath on his face, the sweet little noises they both make… it’s like a dream come true.

And yeah. If waiting 19 years got him this - he'd do it all over again.