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constantly0lost · 22 hours

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Flirty fluff you say…perhaps some workplace flirtation with Ango. The heart throbbing tension, the blushing and sweet compliments ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ just an idea and wanted to share my thoughts with you :3

Yeeeeeessssss you get it! I'm sorry this took me so long to respond to (life is kicking my ass right now) but I hope you like it.

GN!reader (although reader and Ango both joke about wearing maid uniforms) No warnings, just flirty fluff. Work-based romance. Reader is a huge simp. Approx 1.7k words.

You arrive at the Special Division's offices far earlier than scheduled, hoping to get ahead of your mounting workload for the day. At least that's the reason you tell yourself you're there so early.

There shouldn’t be anyone else there yet, but as you pull into the parking lot, a single car occupies a space. It’s a nice car– a rental, which means it’s likely Ango’s since his own was recently totaled.

Your heart sinks at the possibility he spent another night away from home. But you knew that was likely. You wouldn't be there otherwise.

Stepping into his office confirms your suspicion. The assistant counselor is curled up asleep on the couch. He’s covered by his suit jacket, his forearm beneath his cheek in place of a pillow, glasses askew, phone still in hand, shoes in a haphazard pile directly beneath his feet.

A deep sigh escapes you. This makes it the fifth night in a row he’s slept at the office.

“Ango?”

At the sound of his name, he gasps, eyes suddenly wide as he stares up at you, his lips moving around silent syllables before he finally manages to speak. “What happened? Is it Daz— is something wrong?”

If overworked were a person, it’d be Ango Sakaguchi.

“No, relax. It’s okay, it’s just morning,” you say, crouching beside him so he doesn’t have to stare up at you quite so vulnerably; partly for his comfort, but mostly because when he does he looks like a startled dormouse and it’s hard not to fall even deeper in love with him

“Already?”

“Yeah. And you shouldn’t sleep in your tie. You could strangle yourself.”

He groans, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes with the back of his hand. “Is it terrible to say at this point it would be a relief?”

“Yes, don’t make me confiscate it, Sakaguchi,” you say, firmly yet affectionately. “Water?”

“Coffee, if you don’t mind.”

“When was the last time you drank water?”

He furrows his brow in a petulant, but ultimately unthreatening scowl. “Did you come in here to baby me?”

“I’ll take that as an admission of guilt.”

“Likewise.” Slowly and stiffly, he lifts himself up to sit on the couch, resting his forearms on his knees and letting his hands dangle. He looks exhausted, his usual straight-backed posture completely forgotten, his spine rounded, shoulders slumped forward as he fiddles with his spectacles.

There’s just something about Ango… no, there are many things about Ango which draw you to him. The vulnerability behind his composure, the dry humor even in the very worst of times, his bone-deep need to give due meaning to all life, his pragmatism, his dedication…

And he cares so deeply; so deeply it borders on self destruction. During his time as a mole in the Port Mafia, he'd taken it upon himself to write proper obituaries for the dead mafiosi who would otherwise have been forgotten, using his ability to extract information from objects they'd touched. He took cold statistics and turned them back into human beings, exhausting himself in the process.

So you come to the office each day resolved to take care of him as much as he'll allow. As much as you can get away with without revealing your secret; that you're completely, utterly, hopelessly smitten.

After fetching him the dopp kit you know he keeps in his bottom desk drawer, you head downstairs to get him a cold bottle of water from the vending machines as well as a cup of coffee and snacks. It's far from resembling a balanced breakfast but the best you can do in the circumstances.

“I'm doing this because I love you,” you mutter, struggling to balance the smorgasbord in your hands as you head up the stairs back up to Ango's office's floor. “And because someone needs to take care of you when you neglect to do it yourself, you absolutely beautiful disaster of a man.”

When you return to his office, Ango is changing into fresh clothes with his back to you, the dawn light streaming through the window, creating a perfect silhouette of his slender figure through the thin white cotton of his shirt.

And you try not to look. At least, that's what you tell yourself. But it's impossible not to notice the subtle curve of his waist, or to imagine your hands planted firmly at either side of it, pulling him closer to you as you kiss the beauty mark above his lip.

“Ah, you took pity on me then?” he says over his shoulder as he buttons up, snapping you from your reverie. “Water and coffee. And snacks? You spoil me. Thank you.”

“Of course. Only the best for the assistant councilor,” you reply, your voice noticeably frayed.

Ango gives a monosyllabic chuckle and finally turns to face you while he works on the last three buttons of his shirt, clearly completely unaware of the devastating impact his exposed, defined clavicle has. “You know, if I close my eyes I can almost pretend this is a hotel and I simply ordered room service.”

“I can wear a maid uniform for you if it helps maintain the illusion?” As soon as the words leave your mouth you wish you could cram them back in.

But Ango just sits down at his desk with a look of concern, poring over what appears to be a heart rate monitor's display on his computer, switching seamlessly into work mode. He doesn't have to say anything for you to know he's done talking, at least until he's got his bearings in the endless ocean of work he takes on daily.

So you head to your own office and try to push him from your mind, and attempt, unsuccessfully, to forget about the maid uniform comment. You work and you work; business as usual for an agent of the Special Division. No matter how much paperwork you get through, there's always more– a sisyphean task made bearable by the knowledge that your efforts help keep Yokohama and her people safe.

It's after office hours when Ango comes to you, setting a steaming cup of coffee on your desk. And it isn't from the vending machine but a nearby coffee house; much better quality. Much. It's your favorite, actually.

You smile as he sits at your desk opposite you, making it an impromptu coffee break. It isn't until the aroma of the coffee hits you that you realize just how late it's gotten, and how long you've been stuck behind your desk. “Thank you, Ango, you didn't have to.”

“I did. And I do apologize for the rather lackluster delivery. Sadly my maid costume shrank at the dry cleaner's. I shan't subject you to the spectacle.”

You snort almost cartoonishly as Ango sips his coffee, deadpan as ever. Heat crawls across your face as a not entirely unwelcome mental image creeps into your consciousness. “Well, I'm sure you can pull it off.”

“Your faith in me is heartwarming. Misguided, but appreciated nevertheless.” He pulls in a breath, lips pressed together as if there's something he wants to say but feels he has to hold back. A moment later he finds his resolve. “Thank you. For all that you do.”

“Oh, it's no problem. It's my job–”

“No, it isn't.” he interjects firmly, though not unkindly. “You always do more for me than you should have to, and I appreciate it. All of it.” He shifts in his seat, adjusting his glasses before he speaks in a hushed tone. “Forgive my bluntness but if I don't ask now I may never get the courage again. When… when you said you love me, what did you mean by that?”

Heat prickles at the back of your neck. “Huh?”

His eyes pointedly avoid yours as he fidgets with a wooden stirrer. “I'm sorry. I used my ability on the water bottle. When you were carrying it upstairs you said you were doing all of this because you love me. And, I believe there was something in there about me being a beautiful disaster?”

Shit.

Suddenly the earth's trajectory through the universe is all too noticeable, the spinning, tilting, whirring. Panic causes your heart to race, your chest to tighten. If the ground were to swallow you up it'd be a mercy. You're vaguely aware that he has continued speaking.

“–for my own sanity,” Ango is saying, apparently transfixed by the steam rising from his coffee cup, the stirrer discarded, his hand now resting on your desk. “But if you don't want to answer, it's alright. I understand and I appreciate your kindness nevertheless.”

God, what can you even say? How can you ever put it into words? That he means everything to you. That he's the reason you come to work early and leave late. That you wish you could do so much more for him than simply bring him coffee.

Ango looks down, his own nervousness palpable, so you do the only thing you can think to do in the moment. You take his hand, merely hooking your fingertips around his, but that's all he needs to read you.

“Are you certain?” he asks.

You nod. He closes his eyes in concentration.

“Oh…” he says softly as information about you instantaneously floods his mind. Pressing the palm of his free hand to his brow, he frowns and closes his eyes. “That's quite a lot.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. People are always strenuous to read, especially if there's a lot about them I wish to learn. If I pass out I need you to slap me.”

“I could never.”

He chuckles and pinches his brow, humming pensively. “You may be one of the few people left who know me who wouldn't leap at the chance. I'm surprised you feel any sort of affection toward me at all. Let alone… all of that. It'll take me a while to process it–”

Your face is burning, your pulse leaping in your throat. “Oh, of course, take all the time you need.”

“And perhaps I can share my thoughts… my feelings with you too, though my ability only works one-way, so the only convenient way to do it would be… dinner? With me?”

Your heart leaps at his suggestion. And of course you'll accept. Of course. He knows you will. He knows everything now. “Ango, that was so smooth.”

“Yes…” A faint smile of pride lifts the corners of his lips. “Yes, it was, wasn't it?”

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constantly0lost · 2 days

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Okay this might seem weird but: what if reader has convinced Aku to stay overnight, and the next morning he gets up early and wants to prepare sth for her, and uses Rashomon to slice up fruit and whatnot...meanwhile reader wakes up startled by the sound of him summoning his ability and thinks something os wrong, but instead walks in on him being all chef-like :)))

Ahhh this is so cute. Okay, I had to do a little drabble lol.

SFW. Akutagawa x GN!Reader. Fluff. Silly.

"Ryu... what is that?" you asked, voice wavering as you lingered in the kitchen doorway, hair sill a little tousled from the pillow.

Akutagawa frowned, his abyssal gaze dropping to the breakfast table where a bowl of chopped mangos, pomegranate seeds, figs, melons, pineapple, and grapes sat in a bowl. "Fruit," he replied. "For breakfast."

Perhaps he'd misjudged. Breakfast wasn't really his thing. There were so many options; too many options. Perhaps you were more of a savory type.

"Oh... yeah, no, I see that," you said. "I mean that."

His eyes widened as yours focused on the beast hovering behind him; crackling black fibers of thread manipulated into the form of a draconic maw. "Rashomon? It helped me cut up the- Haven't I shown you before?"

You shook your head.

"You're certain? I could've sworn-" Akutagawa's brow puckered as he attempted to sort through his memories with you. But he was drawing blanks.

"No, I definitely would've remembered learning that my boyfriend had a dragon."

Boyfriend. Heavens, he was still getting used to that. A light, fluttery sensation billowed in his chest, one which grew ever more intense as you closed the gap, bare feet tapping on the kitchen floor.

"Does it bite?" you asked.

"Yes," he replied, his lips arcing into a subtle smile, inspired merely by your proximity. "But only if I tell it to. You're safe."

"Ah..." You mirrored his expression, letting your own smile spread freely where instinct told him to keep his clipped. But fondness soon overrode that habit and he felt his heart soar as you scooped spoonfuls of fruit from the large bowl into a smaller one and began to eat. "Thank you for breakfast, Ryu... and Rashomon."

What a strange and lovely feeling it was to watch you eat. To know he and his ability provided sustenance and nourishment to someone so precious and important to him. It seemed that fluttery feeling wasn't going away any time soon.

And for once, breakfast seemed quite appealing; the jeweled hues of the fruit, your company, the gentle light of morning where once he'd known only darkness. "You're quite welcome," he said, scooping fruit into his own bowl. "From both of us."

#ryuunosuke akutagawa #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa x you #akutagawa x y/n #akutagawa fluff #bsd fluff #akutagawa ryunosuke #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs fanfic #akutagawa ryuunosuke #bsd #bungo stray dogs akutagawa #fluff #brb coming to find you so i can kiss you #AHugufhhddykxhd #hes sicha. cutie if eat the fruit salad even though i dont like fruit much

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constantly0lost · 3 days

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One does not simply.... introduce me to BSD and not give me headcanons and stuff about Kunikida 🙈🙈🙈

Maeve! I've got you 😌

NSFW. Kunikida x F!reader

Doppo Kunikida NSFW Headcanons

Obviously Kunikida places great importance on the concept of ideals, working toward a better world, protecting everyone he can, seeking his own version of perfection.

It's no secret that his notebook contains a list of the 58 criteria for his perfect partner. And you just happen to be a match.

So once he finds you, there's no way he's going to squander the opportunity to win you over.

He falls first and hardest, completely enchanted by you. After all, he's been envisioning his entire life with you years before you even met.

But the little things about you he didn't specify in his notebook... he loves those just as much.

Like the way you never fail to make his knees buckle when you kiss him.

And the way you seem to hone in on his most sensitive spots when your hands wander across his body.

The way you tangle your fingers in his hair while he's going down on you...

which, by the way, he loves.

He groans when you tug his ponytail, lungs emptying as his cock twitches against the mattress

Your pleasure is his absolute priority though. No matter how hard, how sensitive, how leaky his cock is.

Since meeting you he finds himself having to multitask much more; concentrating on his work and daydreaming about the taste of your pussy at the same time.

Dazai teases him relentlessly: "Thinking about the company budget again, Kunikida-kun? You're blushing..."

"Just shut up and get those reports finished."

"I'm working on it. You can relax and get back to daydreaming about those juicy spread... sheets."

Kunikida discovers a lot about himself once you become lovers.

Like that he's a sucker for dirty talk, both giving and receiving. He aches all over when you tell him what you want to do to him, and he loves to give it back while he's inside you, his deep voice practically growling against your ear, telling you how perfect your pussy feels.

And although it's a scandalous use for an incredibly precious resource, he can be convinced to use his ability to create toys for you to use.

(God it would be soooo inappropriate of you to send him messages during work telling him how you're using it and thinking about him. Wholly inappropriate... 😏 do it)

He also discovers he loves kissing. He's quite content just to lay in bed with you, enjoying slow, sensual kisses with his fingers buried in your hair. It drives him wild to see how flushed you are and wet your panties are after a long make-out session (he is also very flushed and extremely erect)

Speaking of erect, Kunikida is certainly larger than average. He'll never admit it, but it turns him on so much when it takes a bit of work to get you to take him all.

But he's very encouraging, letting you take all the time you need, telling you how good you feel, thanking you...

He blushes a lot with you, particularly his ears and chest.

Loves face-to-face positions; firmly believes missionary is popular for a reason and the only reason people think it's boring is because they're doing it wrong...

Doppo Kunikida: master of the art of thrusting into you while grinding against your clit.

However, he very very much enjoys taking you from behind.

He's very gentle with you, easing his cock into you, aware of his size and that the position allows him to go deeper.

Practices patience and self control, letting you rock back onto him instead of thrusting until you're ready for him.

God, but once he gets going...

whewww

He LOVES the sound of your bodies slapping together, the sounds you make, the shift in your breathing. It drives him wild.

And this man cums harder than anyone else in the world. It's a full body experience for him every time.

He just completely loses control, every muscle in his body rebelling against him as breathless cries burst from his lips.

And before his orgasm subsides he captures your lips with his, exhaling forcefully from his nose, unwilling to stop kissing you for anything in the world.

He moans into your mouth as he cums and cums.

Sometimes it feels like his orgasm is never going to end.

Twitching, jerking, gasping, holding on to you for dear life.

But his favorite thing of all comes after, when you're wrapped up in each other's arms and his heart is completely at peace.

Those are the moments he catches a glimpse of a truly idealistic world.

#bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #kunikida x reader #kunikida x you #kunikida headcanons #bungo stray dogs kunikida #bsd x reader #bsd x you #kunikida smut #bsd smut #n.sfw #n.sfw //#not my writing #GINGER SPOTTED #I AM RAPISLY APPROACHING #hes #im gonna strangle him (affectionately)

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constantly0lost · 4 days

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A/N: I had two anon requests for Ranpo; one for sitting on his face and the other for food play, so I combined the two :)

Pairing: Ranpo x Fem!Reader

Content Guidance: NSFW. Reader and Ranpo licking caramel off each other's bodies. Nipple play (both giving and receiving) Like 1 second of a BJ before he cums. Face-sitting. Approx 1.3k words.

Sugar Rush

Ranpo has always liked your homemade caramel way more than the store bought kind. According to his discerning palate it tastes better, he likes the texture of it more, and he loves the way it makes your apartment smell when you make it. And after solving a supposedly impossible case (impossible to everyone else, way too easy for Ranpo) you figure he deserves a treat… as if you don’t spoil him enough already.

But it doesn’t take long to stop and pick up butter on your way home from work. You always have plenty of sugar in the house, naturally. Living with Ranpo ensures that sugar is a staple on your weekly shopping list.

Making the caramel doesn’t take much time either. And his gleeful smile when he bursts through the front door makes it all worthwhile.

“I’m back! Mm mm mmm!” He heads straight to the kitchen and dips a spoon into the cooled-off caramel, his smile wide and deceptively innocent as he licks the spoon clean. “Mm! Perfect! You did well, assistant. Let’s go.”

You don’t even have time to ask where before he’s pulling you toward the bedroom, the pan of caramel in his other hand and those brilliant green eyes practically hidden by his eager grin. It doesn’t take a genius detective to figure out what he wants.

Excitedly, you both strip and climb onto the bed, sitting facing each other with the pan between you.

“We’re only putting this stuff in external places, okay?” you tell him.

“Well, yeah of course, I’m not an idiot. Okay, me first,” Ranpo says, dipping his finger into the pan and smearing the caramel across his lower lip for you to kiss off.

His breath shudders so sweetly as you lean in, lapping it off with your tongue before deepening your kiss, sucking his lip between your own. Ranpo’s kisses are often sweet, his lips soft and laced with residual sugar from the mountain of snacks he works his way through each day. He kisses you slowly, lazily; luxuriating in your adoration, soft, fragmented moans sounding against your lips.

When you pull back, his gaze is hazy, his cheeks dusted pink, his lips curved into an almost drunken smile. He so loves to be loved by you.

“Okay, your turn,” he says, once more dipping his finger into the caramel.

“Oh, so I don’t get to choose?” you ask in amusement.

“You don’t need to, because I know this is exactly where you want to pick.”

Your breath hitches as he presses his finger to your nipple, coating it in the sticky, golden treat. “Well… yeah but I was going to build up to it.”

“And now you don’t have to,” he grins, rocking forward onto all fours so he’s level with your chest. He sticks out his tongue and kitten-licks your nipple, and a tingle of pleasure shoots straight between your thighs. “You get what you want and I get what I want.”

Ranpo's middle name may as well be "instant gratification."

His lips close around your nipple, sucking gently at first, his tongue flicking back and forth, his satisfied hum sending fluttery vibrations through your chest. As soon as he's lapped away the sweet residue his fingers are back in the pot, smearing caramel once again over your swelling buds. He nuzzles into the plush of your breast and licks.

"I was right, wasn't I?" he says between laps of his tongue, the gentle puffs of his breath tickling your slickened skin. "And now you want to return the favor. You like the sounds I make when you make me feel good..."

"Mhm... yeah," you manage to say as he continues tonguing your nipples.

His laugh is soft and playful as he draws back, an unsaid "I knew it," gleaming in his eyes. But he spares you his gloating as he rocks forward, resting his hands on the headboard of the bed and placing his chest right by your lips.

A victorious grin curves his lips as you smear the caramel on him, watching it glisten so temptingly on his skin. But all his cockiness simply melts the moment your tongue laps at his chest. He’s absurdly sensitive there, his nipples swelling and puckering almost instantly.

“Hah!” he gasps, arching into the caress of your mouth. “Tickles…”

And Ranpo, for all his self-assuredness, falls apart from the slighted stimulation. His voice is soft, his moans so sweet and breathy, his hands slipping from the headboard to cling to your shoulders. A cry sounds from him as you swirl your tongue around and around the ridges of his areolas. Jaw clenching, brow pinched, fingers fighting the urge to curl in on themselves as he holds you.

And he so eagerly accepts your fingers when you press them to his lips, sucking the sticky sweetness from them, his tongue sliding between as a groan rumbles at the back of his throat. He loves the taste, the scent, the way you love him. And no matter how much he gorges on pleasure he always wants more.

When you’ve licked away the caramel, he leans back, taking the spoon and drizzling it down his chest, his belly, dripping it on the head of his cock, letting you lay him down against the mattress as you lick and suck and kiss it away.

“Ahh! Ha!” he whines as you lap at his lower belly.

You find yourself grinning against his skin as he twitches and convulses at the overwhelming sensation. A pretty blush spreads across his cheeks, his chest, around his navel as he writhes beneath your tongue as your kisses head downward.

And almost the moment your lips are around the head of his cock, he cums with a cry, hands buried in his own hair as he gasps and bucks and begs, barely knowing what it is he’s asking for. “Hah… hah… please… nyah… please…”

Not until he comes down from his high at least…

“Let me taste you now.”

Not the sticky sweet caramel. You.

Even desperate and craving your pleasure, he’s still at least a little lazy, a languid smile tilting his lips as you straddle his sweet face and ride it. But his tongue is anything but listless. Ranpo devours you, muffled whines of gratitude coming from between your thighs as he licks and licks your clit, stopping only to swallow down the taste of you once he’s gathered enough of your slick on his tongue.

“Mmm…”

He wraps his arms around your thighs, moreso hugging them than holding you in place, still giving you the freedom to grind yourself against his mouth. And his tongue is everywhere; inside you, fervently fucking you as he caresses your clit with the tip of his nose, slipping between your pussy lips, circling your throbbing nub.

The higher he drives you, the harder you hold on, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling just enough to get him to moan against your cunt.

“Fuck, Ranpo…”

That’s all it takes to make him cum again; just the way you gasp his name from sheer pleasure, the highest praise he can ever receive, the most beautiful sound in all the world to him. He twitches beneath you, legs bending at the knee as he lifts his hips from the mattress. He holds that position for a few seconds, frozen in ecstasy before he erupts, spurting across his belly; gasping, whimpering, crying desperately against your pussy as you careen into your own orgasm.

Ranpo laughs from beneath you, tapping your thighs affectionately before you carefully dismount and find yourself smiling at his dazed, fucked-out expression. And he’s a beautiful mess; sticky from the caramel, covered in his spend and your slick, hair tangled on the pillow, dappled pink and grinning from ear to ear.

“Man,” he gasps, resting his forearm across his brow as he catches his breath. “I’m good at that, huh?”

“The best,” you tell him. “Even sweeter than caramel.”

♡♡♡

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! If you liked this check out my Masterlist! I write a lot :)

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constantly0lost · 17 days

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Cathleen Bate NSFW Headcanons

Fem!reader. Sub!Cathleen Bate. Dom!reader

There's no doubt that Star and Stripe dominates the battlefield. She's big, strong, powerful, smart, beautiful

At first glance she's intimidating as all hell

But Cathleen Bate is as sweet as they come.

You meet at the gym, naturally.

It's a quiet day. She's frustrated because there aren't enough weight plates for her to get a good workout.

So of course you make a joke of letting her bench you. And she does. Then she squats you. And then pushups and hip thrusts with you sat on top of her.

It's love at first rep. She's so flustered the entire time.

From then on the two of you are inseparable.

She absolutely loves showing you off at events. Nothing makes her prouder than having her beautiful girl on her arm.

She's extremely cuddly and affectionate. She loves nothing more than snuggling with you. Just a big snuggly teddybear.

Loves having you in her arms with your head on her chest. She likes to make you feel secure.

But if you do the same for her, she's complete mush 🥰

Cassie (ask her how she got the nickname, it's a funny story) is the sweetest and most loving girlfriend you could ever ask for.

She's a service sub through and through. She just wants to please.

Loves to go down on you. Lives for it, in fact.

Starts out slow and thorough, getting you so turned on. She likes to take her time and savor you. But once you give her the order to go faster she will absolutely devour you.

Tell her how good she's making you feel and she melts.

Holds your hand the entire time.

She moans against your pussy like she's the one being pleasured. She loves it so much.

Her fingers are long and thick and she knows how to use them. She's so dedicated to your pleasure.

Not opposed to scissoring but she really prefers riding your thigh or having you ride hers so you can kiss during sex. She misses you too much if your face is too far away from her lips.

It's delicious torture for her to lay back and be on the receiving end of oral. It feels so good and she's so sensitive but she wants to kiss you and make you cum so bad.

So cute and needy when you edge her. She can barely hold back.

Her thighs tremble when she's close.

She's very vocal in the build up and then cums silently, every muscle in her body clenching and quivering as she grips the bedsheets, and then cries out again when she can finally draw breath.

Her nipples aren't very sensitive but the visual of you sucking and licking them turns her on so much.

She gets so wet from fingering while you're licking her tits.

Blushes a lot if you tell her she's pretty.

She loves being told she's your good girl too.

And she is a good girl. She's the best girl.

#star and stripe #cathleen bate #star and stripe smut #f!reader #wlw post #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #n.sfw #n.sfw //#sub!star #dom!reader #AHJHUUUUUKDJL #i an #lesban #i adore yer #time to write anout bullying jer :0 #shes such wife

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constantly0lost · 18 days

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internet censorship bill about to pass congress:

ao3 is facing a ddos attack from an overseas right-wing anonymous group because it contains "degeneracy and disgusting things like LGBT and NSFW".

they're not the only right-wing group that is attacking fanfiction sites because of queer & nsfw content. the Heritage foundation, the US right wing think tank that writes laws for republicans, wrote an article about how "big tech turns kids trans" in which they're advocating for the Kid's Online Safety Act to pass because it will give state attorney generals power to sue websites for "potentially harmful content towards minors". in this article they point out websites like wattpad, tumblr, tiktok, twitter as sites that GOP attorney generals can and will target for censorship if this bill passes. all places where fandom, that's mostly queer, hangs out.

if you think this bill has no chance of passing because of all the red flags it poses, think again. it currently has 38 cosponsors in the senate, and is being pushed by the democrats as a "protecting the children!!" type bill.

there are left-aligned orgs in congress rn lobbying for this bill to pass. july is extremely decisive, because if KOSA goes through to markup it'll be bundled with the Earn It act, Restrict, and all the other bad internet bills and passed as a package, completely censoring the internet forever.

if you want to learn more about the bill, go here. also sign the open letter against it here

it's ESSENTIAL that you call your members of congress, specifically Maria Cantwell (you can call from out of state) and tell them DO NOT PASS KOSA. this site here connects you to your members of congress and gives you a short simple script to read off of! super easy and doesn't take much out of your day! please do this now!!

#ao3 #fanfiction #fanfics #fandom #x reader #obey me x reader #sdv x reader #kny x reader #black butler x reader #tnmn x reader #mha x reader

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constantly0lost · 18 days

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NSFW. L x F!reader. Vaginal sex, cunnilingus. L realizing he has feelings for you. Approx 2.6k words.

Stress impaired neural circuitry and was detrimental to cognitive function, and L couldn’t afford to lose brain power.

His most recent case required it all. The longer the case went on the more his brain seemed to fog, and the more it fogged, the longer it would take to catch the murderer. There was only one thing for it: you.

He needed you, craved you, couldn’t get you out of his mind. No matter how hard he tried to focus, the image of you appeared; a temptation he couldn’t get past.

Put simply, he was horny.

He dreamed of you in the few hours of sleep he stashed away from the relentless pursuit of victory. Vivid dreams of your scent, your touch, the sound of his name on your lips. He awakened from those dreams flustered and panting, his spend soaking through his jeans. But no matter how graphic and convincing those dreams were, it couldn’t compare to the real thing. To You.

With you it was never just sex. L was very fond of you, comfortable with you, his heart was made lighter by your company. You'd been friends for a while, then good friends, and then close friends who indulged in sex together. And lately your relationship was evolving into something else. Something neither of you had stuck a firm label to. Not yet.

He had Watari call you and patch you through to his line.

“L? Is everything okay?”

The moment he heard your voice, he felt the fog clear just a little. Enough to know this was exactly the right thing to do. “Yes of course. But I need to see you. How soon can you fly out to me?”

“Uh…”

“I would like to have sex with you.”

“... I’m on my way.”

Two days later you knocked on the door to his hotel room thousands of miles from home. You'd dropped everything to be there, and the gravity of that was not lost on him.

The moment you stepped through the door he wrapped his arms around you, holding you to him in a desperate and much-needed embrace.

“I appreciate you coming,” he said, relief immediately flooding through him, as if your arrival was the antidote to a toxin which had been slowly seeping into his system in your absence. “I need to switch off my brain… for a short while at least. And you’ve always been rather adept at making me feel at least a little mindless.”

The sound of your gentle, never unkind, laughter made him smile. As did the way your arms tightened around his rounded shoulders. “I missed you too, L.”

“Ah, well, yes, of course I missed you. Having you here while I’m working on a case is too much of a distraction. Yet being apart for too long also obstructs my focus.”

“We need to find a balance, don’t we?”

“Yes.” he hooked his index finger over his bottom lip and glanced at the ceiling. “Perhaps a schedule. Though as you know, I do tend to sleep quite heavily after sex, and that will need to be factored in when calculating the amount of time I can spend working.”

You smiled at him, and he realized just how much he’d missed the sight of it. “Do you have time set aside now?”

“Of course. I have the next eighteen hours blocked off.”

“Eighteen hours?”

“Yes… as persistent as my urges are, I have no intention of rush– mmh—”

Your lips on his silenced him, physically and– at least momentarily– mentally. Your kisses never failed to raise his heart rate and his temperature. They were devastating. Wonderful. Addictive. He was hardly aware of the little muffled moans escaping him as you backed him toward the couch and had him sit.

“Is Watari here?” you asked, straddling his lap and running your fingers through his wild raven hair.

A subtle smile curved L’s lips as he gazed up at you, dark eyes drinking in the familiar yet exciting sight of you. Only a matter of minutes together and already he felt the weight on his shoulders lifting. “No, Watari has his own room. We're alone.”

“Good.”

God, the heat in your kisses then, the hunger which tightened a coil deep beneath his navel. The sensation of you sucking on his lower lip made him shiver, the gentle touch of your fingertips on his neck gave him goosebumps. It was wonderful. Every touch, every second, every kiss. He clung to you tightly, his bare toes curled against the carpet, breaths labored, pupils so dilated they nearly drowned out the gray of his irises.

A moan of protest escaped him when you pulled back, leaving his lips feeling swollen and tingly.

“You’re very cute, L.”

“I’m cute? Hm… Interesting word choice.”

“It’s true. You’re so very cute, and so very, very sexy.”

“Sexy…” he repeated back as you trailed kisses down his neck. “I’ll admit, I’m inclined to believe you. You’re making me feel many things right now and sexy is certainly among them.”

You grinned against his collarbone. “What else?”

Goodness, your kisses made it hard to breathe. But when you were around oxygen seemed superfluous. He needed your lips more than he needed to fill his lungs.

He tried to put into words the way you made him feel; hot, breathless, complete, present, safe, happy, loved. But the only sound he managed to choke out as your hands slid beneath the hem of his shirt to caress his stomach was a strained, fractured moan.

You chuckled quietly. “Good, that's what I was hoping.”

Eloquence out the window, he let his hands and his lips speak for him, fingertips gliding up your back, pushing up your shirt, making you shiver. The sensation of your skin beneath his palms was so lovely he never wanted to feel anything else.

Early on in your relationship he’d mastered the art of smoothly unhooking your bra, and he did so now, stroking his fingers along your upper back, feeling your shoulder blades flex beneath his hands as he lifted your shirt up and over your head. He set your garments aside so carefully it made you smile. Well, it wouldn’t be polite to simply toss them.

And you pulled his shirt off too, setting it on top of yours before your hands slid over his chest and abdomen. You were so greedy for him; gentle and adoring, but unmistakably hungry. Squeezing, stroking, holding, making up for the weeks you’d been apart. Every touch left a desire for more in its wake. And the intimacy of your bare skin on his, the way your hardened nipples prodded and brushed against him every time you leaned in to deepen your kisses… heaven. Perfection.

You made him feel incredible. So good he couldn’t help but squirm beneath you, his cock aching and so desperate for your touch he couldn’t bear it. And you knew him well enough to see it in his eyes; the almost pained expression pinching his brow, the way his mouth turned down as he succumbed to the sensation of your lips on his throat, your tongue warm and soft, slippery against his clavicle.

L wasn't quite sure when he had come to realize the wonderful truth; that you needed him as he needed you. It wasn't a sudden dawning, more an intrinsic fact which became second nature to him. Being with him, kissing him, grinding yourself against his lap was simultaneously as indulgent and as necessary for you as it was for him. You were working out your own stress, clinging to him as he was to you. Adoring him as he adored you.

You'd missed him; you’d said as much but he could feel it. It was apparent by the way your kisses lingered, the desperation of your touches, the ragged quality of each overwhelmed breath. And that feeling, of being needed, wanted, craved, was almost enough to make him lightheaded.

“Beautiful…” the word tiptoed from his tongue and into the heated air between you. It was all so beautiful; you, the sensations, him, that moment, all of it.

He’d spent the majority of his life contemplating the very worst facets of human behavior; analytical detachment as much a necessity as an inevitability when the world around him was saturated by cruelty, violence, and death. But you… no he could never detach from you. He was wholly and willingly consumed by your loveliness, your beauty, your imperfections. All of you.

He heard himself groan in protest as you clambered off him, but he needn’t have worried. You simply finished undressing before unbuttoning his jeans, tugging them down his slender thighs as he arched his back and lifted his hips off the couch to ease your endeavor. His erection tented his boxers, aching and twitching at the sight of you stripping off your underwear, and the arousal glistening at the apex of your inner thighs.

“So wet,” he said, tapping his lower lip with his thumbnail, his dark eyes hungrily drinking in the sight of you. “You're excited.”

“Of course. You turn me on, L.”

“Clearly. I enjoy it immensely.” He glanced down at his erection, and the little wet patch soaking through the fabric of his boxers. “And… oh, hey… likewise.”

Goodness, he enjoyed the way you smiled. Even at a time like this when he was in real danger of ruining the mood. You didn’t roll your eyes or barely tolerate him, and you didn’t simply appreciate him for his intelligence, his money, or even his looks which you had very quickly seemed to have acquired the taste for. It was all of him for you too.

Love, he was quickly learning, was all about those little moments. The awkwardness, the fumbling, accepting someone as the flawed and wonderful person they were. Every little thing he adored about you was reflected back in your eyes: personality, humor, mannerisms. He adored you down to your very core and there was no doubt in his mind that you felt the same way about him.

He stood from the couch, stepping out of his boxers– hopping on the spot to keep his balance as he unhooked them from his ankle– and stood before you completely naked.

“As much as I would enjoy sex right now, I’d also very much like to taste you.” He scratched his belly as he headed toward the bedroom door. “And I feel we’d benefit from moving to the bedroom. There’s room there to maneuver. The bed is comfortable and… If I'm honest, I’d enjoy lying with you. Particularly being held by you. You’ve given me quite the fondness for cuddling you know.”

Of course convincing you was unnecessary. He’d only ever have to ask to move to the bedroom and you would've headed straight there. But he liked the way the color rose in your cheeks when he mentioned his desires, and the way your smile took on new meaning. The little flirtatious glance you gave him as you slipped by him in the doorway made his heart pitter patter. The way you sat on the bed, parting your thighs and inviting him to indulge in you made his cock ache.

All his life he’d been treated as something other– he'd felt it too– but with you, crouching between your feet, breathing in the heady scent of your arousal as your breath hitched in anticipation, he felt like any other lovesick fool. And for that he was endlessly grateful; a gratitude he expressed by leaning in and kissing your clitoris. He knew how you liked it. Hot, open-mouthed kisses, heavy on the tongue, making out with your sex as you moaned and sunk your fingers into his hair and writhed beneath his lips.

Dear God, the taste of you. If only cunnilingus provided adequate sustenance, he’d never touch anything else again. He’d live between your thighs, lapping at your core, devouring you, parting your folds to drive his tongue into your entrance, enjoying the way you bucked your hips toward him, always seeking more.

Ordinarily he’d take his time, savor the slow-build toward your climax, but he was starved, desperate to sink into your heat and be enveloped by your presence which he’d denied himself for far too long. He dragged his tongue along your slit, circling your clitoris before surrounding it with his lips and sucking upon it.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, heels pressing against his backside, thighs trembling.

Your reactions only ever served to bolster his confidence. Your pleasure was as much a boost to his ego as any successfully closed case. And he was just as relentless in its pursuit, demanding, licking, sucking, groaning against your pussy, his dick throbbing almost painfully, dripping precum onto his thighs.

And then you came, and it was a miracle he didn’t follow suit.

Your gasps, your moans, the way you tensed and shuddered and cried his name. The sudden flood of heat emanating from your core, the throbbing spasms, all of it. Wonderful. Perfect. Utterly utterly maddening. He simply had to be inside you.

Your throes had barely subsided when he crawled onto you, his mouth still dedicated to worshiping your form, following a path from your pelvis, over your stomach, your chest, your throat, and finally your lips, where you groaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue. And all else was meaningless. The case, the stress, whatever came tomorrow. None of it mattered. Because you were there. Because the sensation of you, of sliding into you, the way your body adjusted to accommodate him, the way your brow pinched then smoothed, and the sound of his name on your lips pared him down so completely to the true form of himself, to someone he hardly recognized.

Only when he was with you like this was he allowed to be just a man. Not a detective. Not an unsettling, infallible genius or a freak or a creep or a weirdo or whatever labels were thrust upon him. Just a man whose lungs emptied when he sheathed himself inside you. Just a man whose thrusts were uncoordinated and sloppy because it all felt so overwhelmingly good. Just a man with butterflies in his belly when you held his face between your hands and finally, finally uttered the words you’d both been dancing around since God knows when.

“I love you.”

Such a lovely sound. The gravity of it folded him. He collapsed into you, trembling, rolling his hips against you in the quest for release, his breath blowing hot and hard against your throat as he responded in kind. “I do too. I love you. Isn’t it… Isn’t it incredible?”

Perhaps he wasn’t making any sense. But he meant all of it, the simple words and their world-changing intricacies. In every imaginable way. He loved you.

Overwhelmed with the need to be closer, deeper, he pushed up your thighs, spreading them, pressing his pelvis tight against yours until his cock was completely buried inside you and neither of you could draw full breaths. Deep, unbridled, fractured groans tumbled from his lips, his forehead resting on your chest as he arched into his thrusts, watching his cock slide into you with fascination and awe. He loved every aspect of it. The scent of your body, the off-kilter rhythm of his thrusts, that he could hear your wetness even above his own moans and yours. So good. Messy and undignified, uncoordinated and beautifully, perfectly human. Mountains of sugar couldn’t hold a candle to the indulgence he found in you.

His pleasure grew, billowing behind his navel, a flurry of clenching muscles and firing nerves. And he simply had to have something in his mouth, his lips latching onto your nipple, tonguing it frantically as you cried out in bliss beneath him. And then he was filling you, his cock throbbing and leaking and stuttering inside you. Incapable of analysis or even thought beyond simply you.

It was you. Only you. Always you.

Afterwards you held him so adoringly, stroking your fingers through his hair, telling him how good he felt and how much you loved him. And what a wonderful feeling it was to be so utterly adored. Such tranquility in allowing himself to be just a man.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, curled in your arms a little while later, once his trembling subsided and left a pleasant humming tingle in its wake. Safe and relaxed and at peace. “Pun unintended.”

“Awful,” you teased him, as lovers are wont to do. “I’m taking the next plane home.”

“Ah, well, that’s a pity. We still have seventeen hours before I need to get back to work. And, it seems, today at least, little to no refractory period.”

“Is that so?”

“It is so. So I'd appreciate it if you indulged my awful humor a little while longer. Might I suggest keeping my mouth otherwise occupied?”

Your smile, your gentle, never unkind laughter, the way you flirted with him… just you. Goodness, seventeen hours would never be enough.

If you liked this check out my Masterlist! I write a lot!

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constantly0lost · 19 days

Text

Birthday Kisses.

NSFW. No plot. Just a birthday BJ for the best boy ever.

Years of intense training have conditioned Kyojuro's body to withstand almost anything. He doesn't fear pain, doesn't surrender, and would never tremble before an enemy.

But you… you're a different matter entirely.

He quivers as you lay between his thighs with your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, kissing it like you would his mouth. Long, loving, unbearably languid. So wonderful yet so torturous.

Kyojuro gasps into the crook of his elbow, almost immediately overwhelmed with pleasure. And goodness, how beautiful he looks with his eyes squeezed tight, his face flushed a pretty, blotchy pink as his hips lift off the futon and the muscles in his stomach clench.

“Hoh! Goh-hods!”

All that training and mastery of his body is utterly meaningless when it comes to you and your mouth. If not for the scars from his years as a novice and the calluses on his palms you'd think the man had never even heard of discipline. He's so tender, so very sensitive to pleasure, and so deserving of your kisses.

Kyojuro gives and gives. It’s almost a battle in itself convincing him just to lie back and feel. And you know that the moment you let him, he’ll return the favor, feasting on you as though your pleasure was as essential to him as breath. But for now you have him helpless. And he loves it.

“Don't stop don't stop don't stop,” he whispers like a chant, the words fading as his lungs empty and he finds himself unable to fill them without first issuing a guttural moan of ecstasy. And those are the last words he's capable of. You know you'll get no more sense out of him beyond the “Uh uh uh,” carried on his shivering breaths.

Your heated kisses hold him on the very brink of climax, precum trickling generously from his desperate cock.

Thick fingers and rough palms venture down to ever-so gently cup your face, wordlessly checking in to ensure your wellbeing, and to thank you, and to reassure you that the sounds emerging from him are indeed groans of pleasure. They could so easily be mistaken for agony.

The telltale signs of him trying desperately to fall over the edge grow ever more obvious; his fluttering, clenching abdomen beaded with sweat, his chest billowing as he drags air into his lungs.

“Nghh,” he moans, raising his head to watch you, thick brows pinched in anguish and bliss. And it’s the sight of you with your lips wrapped around his tip, the sheen of saliva on his throbbing cock, and the possessive glint in your eyes when they meet his which finish him.

Kyojuro comes hard, lips parted around a silent cry, eyes closed in pure euphoria as his cock throbs and spurts, spilling his seed across his thighs in pearly pools.

“Thank you,” he gasps at last when he comes to his senses, his big, broad hands caressing the top of your head and down to cup your cheek with the utmost affection. “You are… incredible.”

“Happy birthday, beloved,” you tell him, trailing kisses along his abdomen and chest, until you’re level with his lips, and close enough for him to wrap his arms around you.

And in the lull he smiles beside you, bright eyes closed, brow smooth and unperturbed. At peace and so beautiful you can’t help but feel your heart warmed by his fiery glow.

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