⟡˙˖ ıl. pairing. steve harrington x henderson reader

⟡˙˖ ıl. content warning. 18+ MDNI smut - pussay eating 😛 semi-public sex, oral (f recieving, duh.) pure filth, literally. porn without plot. no use of y/n (though nicknames like: princess, sweetheart, baby are used), reader is a henderson but it’s only mentioned once so idk. lower-case intended.

⟡˙˖ ıl. lovie's gossip. my first ever steve harrington fic, despite being more of a jonathan / mike girlie. of course, gotta tag my own djo @chipotleburritobowl because this is basically our love child. kind of.

you were crouched by the horror aisle, trying not to knock over a stack of tapes, when steve appeared from behind the sci-fi section like a walking disaster in perfect sneakers. steve’s hair haloed and perfect as always caught the fluorescent light and somehow made your eye twitch.

“wow, careful there, henderson.” he said, leaning against the shelf, one hand brushing yours as he nudged a tape into place. “don’t want you breaking something important.”

“i’ve got it.” you muttered, standing up straighter, glaring just a little. steve didn’t move, didn’t even blink. instead, he smirked and tilted his head like you were the puzzle he was going to solve.

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୨୧ warnings ୨୧

Swearing, explicit imagination, mention of jealously, masturbation, size kink, degradation, degradation kink, begging and mentioning of different positions.

୨୧ Notes: written in HEADCANON style ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱‧₊˚

✧˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚✧ ꒰ Roommates ꒱

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Roommate!Bakugou absolutely hates it when you bring a stranger home to sleep with after being out for so long—but keeps his mouth shut and fist by his side every time because he knows he'll go feral and send someone into the hospital. You'd hate him for that, but he didn't care, as long as you're not next to any guy that isn't him.

Roommate!Bakugou accidentally saw your lace panties lying on top of the washing machine while he was about to do his own laundry. He instantly gets a hard on just from imagining you in them—while riding him—and just ends up jerking off to your panties wrapped around his thick cock. His laundry was pushed to the side, still unwashed and completely forgotten.

Roommate!Bakugou who purposely walk around the house half naked, showing off every ab and muscle he benched ever since he overheard that you love biceps and muscles.

And you couldn't even look away—not when he was wearing those sweet grey sweatpants that perfectly outlined his long thick cock.

Roommate!Bakugou who'll make you beg for it and degrade you for wanting his cock so badly but still enjoy the sight of you on your knees, desperately trying to release from sucking his cock—even gagging at the size.

Roommate!Bakugou loves it when he sees the bulge of his cock on your stomach, even pressing it down with his hand just to make you cry out his name louder—your voice is music to his ears.

Roommate!Bakugou denies that he feels attracted by you—when in truth he could have a hard on just by looking at you.

Roommate!Bakugou imagines you under him; begging and crying pathetically just because of his cock alone. He also wants to try different positions, wanting to find out which position you feel his cock hit your sweet spot the most.

Roommate!Bakugou who wants to push you on the kitchen counter every morning, bending you over and just shoving his morning wood inside your tight pussy, a hint of blush on his cheeks if he sees that you're enjoying the pleasure too.

Roommate!Bakugou who hates and loves you at the same time—because of how much you two argue around the house. He commends you for standing up for yourself but hates that you're over lecturing and ranting on him again while doing so. He just ends up wanting to shut your pretty mouth up with his cock whilst degrading or even better—mocking you; "Look who's bitch mouthing now, princess."

˙⋆✮ Fake Bj prank w bsd men ! ❀⋆.˚

Warnings: Suggestive themes, slightly explicit language in Ranpo's, gn!reader however implied reader has hair long enough to tie back, maybe slightly ooc but shouldn't be very noticable

A/N: Thanks sm for the req anon!! I'm so happy you like my work <3 Also i realise there's only 4 people here but I'm more than happy to add anyone if there's anyone else you wanted on here I can always come back and edit it, plus I was thinking about doing nikolai and kunikida anyway! Also I'm not massively familiar with this prank so if this wasn't the prank you meant please req again and I can re do it!

Dazai ♡

That classic smirk widens tenfold across his face the second your hands raise to pull back your hair, hands immediately fumbling for his belt buckle despite the fact it’s the middle of the day and you're both standing in the agency’s staff kitchen where anyone could walk in at any given time. When you bend over, head becoming level with his crotch he starts practically buzzing with anticipation, the telltale sound of a zipper reaching your ears as you straighten out to your full height once more. That eager look on his face is wiped clean the moment he sees the hairband between your fingers. You send him a questioning glance accompanied by a somewhat disapproving shake of your head, though you're fighting back an accomplished smirk at getting back at him for once, he’s not the only one who’s allowed to tease and today he had found that out. He’s probably noticed your failure at hiding an expression of such self satisfaction but he’s clearly too occupied with the fact you’ve pulled a stunt like this and left him standing with his belt and trousers undone in the middle of the agency. 

“Dropped my hair tie.” You present him with the object before finishing tying up your hair. As you snag your half finished cup of coffee from the countertop and begin to wander back to your desk, Dazai’s disbelieving sputtering reaches your ears as the heavy thud of stumbling footsteps follow you.

“Wha- bella! How could you do this to me! How am I supposed to concentrate on my work now? Unbelievable…”

Chuuya ♡

Pretty similar to Dazai for once, when he’s seated on the opulent leather of his desk chair with legs folded atop his desk and you suddenly duck into his vision, hair back in one hand and ducking under his desk, a cocky smirk paints itself across his features. He’s not one to care about you doing stuff like this in his office, you’ve done it before and he’ll take any opportunity to piss off Mori. He’s also one of the topmost executives in the port mafia and with power like his, no one would even give him a dirty look even if you’d been outright caught giving him head in broad daylight. 

He immediately snaps to attention, dragging his legs off the desk and manspreading in that way he knows you find hot, a single gloved hand toying with his belt buckle in knowing anticipation. He leans back, confident in his demeanor, so imagine the shock when you don’t even move towards him but pop back up off the floor and begin tying your hair up with a hair tie he hadn’t even noticed lying by his feet. You throw an oh so false innocent look, trying and failing to hide the twitching corner of your lips as you notice the smug grin slip off his face and morph into an expression of frustrated disappointment. He doesn’t say anything, but you swear you hear something along the lines of ‘fucking tease’ muttered under his breath as he swivels the chair to face the bookshelf on the opposite wall. 

“What did you think I was gonna do?” you question, though the teasing lilt never leaves your voice. 

“Oi nothing! What’dya take me for a perv!?” 

Ranpo ♡

Ranpo knows exactly what you’re doing before you’ve even begun to execute your so-called master plan. He noticed you were acting strange before you’d both left the early morning comfort of your shared space, trying so desperately to conceal the mischievous smirk that’s threatening to break loose onto your face as you fixed his tie, shoulders shaking with barely restrained laughter you thought you were hiding so well. He’s not sure why you fell under the impression that the self proclaimed ‘world’s greatest detective’ wouldn’t deduce you were up to something but he’ll play along with your silly antics for now, there’s nothing for him to lose or gain either way and better see you thinking you did something than present you with early disappointment. You can have this victory for once, his ego’s big enough to withstand letting you win every once in a while. 

You try to subtly drop a hair tie by the edge of his desk, right underneath his locked drawer of sweets and immediately Ranpo sees through your intentions. As you fill up a cup at the water cooler and circle back past his desk, he’s already pushing away from his desk just enough to leave you with an opportune gap, swivelling his chair in your direction and leaning back slightly. Your cup is abandoned on the edge of his desk as you bend over and for a split second, Ranpo is genuinely caught off guard as you teasingly rest your hand directly over his clothed cock and it has him wondering for a fleeting moment if you actually intended to go through with this. That surprise is then cut off the moment you rise again, batting your lashes innocently and sauntering away like you didn’t notice his wide eyes or slightly agape mouth.

Well you actually achieved the win over the detective this time.

Atsushi ♡

Poor Atsushi is sent into a spiralling descent of shock the second he realises the implications of the stunt you’re pulling. You’d wandered over to where he was sitting on the sofa during the agency lunch break, striking up mundane conversation about what you’d make together for dinner, or who would end up having to do certain chores. Your hair tie lay just in front of his feet where you’d planted it earlier with absolute certainty he’d slouch into the worn leather sofa like usual. He’s leaning back comfortably, gloved hands folded casually behind his head as a bright smile rests on his face, chatting away and totally unaware of how that demeanor will shift in the next few moments. He notices your eyes wandering a few times, and that smile drops slightly, concern colouring his features. 

“You alright?” He tilts his head, studying your face intensely as your gaze flicks back to meet his, dismissing his worry with a gentle wave of your hand and motioning for him to continue. Cue more content rambling, and as he takes a second to catch his breath, you put your, albeit a little cruel, plan into motion. You rest a tentative hand on his thigh, leaning down so you’re eye level with his crotch, gaze darting up to subtly gauge his reaction. His eyebrow raises in confusion before your hand creeps higher, furthering your meaning. Realisation dawns on him immediately and there's no hiding the widening of his eyes or the intensely crimson blush crawling up his neck and painting his face a vivid shade of red. You suppress a laugh, barely, snatching the hair tie from the floor and completing the routine by tying your hair up, ignoring the flustered sputtering of the man in front of you. 

“Wha- B-but why would you…?” You do end up feeling a slither of remorse, you may have broken him for the moment. You confess the prank to him before the guilt can eat away at you too much and he seems to take it in stride thankfully. He’s still blushing a bit as you leave the agency that night though. You laugh.

Thanks for reading!! All likes & reblogs r appriciated and feel free to req <3 Love u all x

FALSE GOD || F.W

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: You and Fred Weasley have been sneaking around Hogwarts, pretending it’s just physical until one night makes it too real to ignore. When you get caught, Fred finally confesses the truth it’s always meant something. And this time, you stop pretending.

Warnings: explicit content, smut, fluff, no major character death

Word count: 1.4k

You’re not supposed to be here.

“You’re gonna get us caught,” you whisper, breath hitching as he pulls your shirt down over your shoulder, exposing skin like he’s unveiling something sacred.

Fred grins against your collarbone, warm breath making you shiver. “You always say that. Right before you pull me into another room.”

You want to argue. You want to say he’s wrong— that it’s him who finds you every time, him who lights the match but then his tongue runs a slow line up your neck and the thought vanishes.

It always does with Fred.

Because Fred Weasley touches you like you’re a religion. Like he’s kneeling at an altar and you’re the only holy thing left in the world.

—

It started months ago. A party in the common room. Too much Firewhisky and not enough space. You were dancing, laughing and then his eyes were on you. Heat. Hunger. Worship.

He kissed you in a hallway that night, back pressed to stone, hands threading under your jumper. You didn’t stop him. You didn’t want to.

And now, here you are, again and again. Worshipping something neither of you will name.

“This isn’t love,” you told him once, after a night in the Astronomy Tower when your knees were bruised from stone and your lips were swollen from his teeth.

He just looked at you and said, “No. But we still bow to it, don’t we?”

—

His hand slides under your skirt now, fingers trailing up your thigh, slow like he has forever. You whimper, quiet, and his grip tightens.

“You always wear these skirts just for me?” he murmurs, eyes dark, voice low.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

So you kiss him — hard, all teeth and heat and it only encourages him. His hands are everywhere, greedy and reverent all at once. The way he touches you shouldn’t feel sacred. But it does.

When his fingers slip past your underwear, you gasp, hips bucking. He drinks in the sound like a man starved.

“You’re always so ready for me,” he mutters, forehead pressed to yours, lips brushing as he speaks. “You act like you hate me in the daylight, but down here in the dark…”

“Fred—”

“I know,” he whispers, sliding one finger in, then two. “I know what this does to you.”

You can’t think. Can’t breathe. His mouth moves to your chest, teeth grazing your skin before he sucks gently leaving proof of you on him, and him on you.

You grind against his hand, moaning softly, and he groans at the sight of you — flushed, ruined, whispering his name like a prayer.

And it is a prayer, in some twisted way.

Because Fred Weasley isn’t safe. He’s temptation in a red and gold tie, a boy who never plays fair, and you’re on your knees for him anyway.

—

He lays you back on the cold desk, shrugging off his robes and unbuttoning his shirt with shaking hands. Your eyes trail over every inch of him — his flushed chest, the faint freckles scattered across his collarbone, the scar near his ribs from a failed prototype. You want to kiss all of it. Memorize him.

And he watches you the same way — like you’re made of something rare and breakable.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” you whisper.

He pauses. “Yeah, I do.”

Then he leans down and kisses your stomach, your hips, the inside of your thighs. Each touch a vow.

When he finally slides into you, slow and deep, you both gasp like your bodies recognize each other before your hearts are ready to admit it.

You wrap your legs around him, nails digging into his back, clinging like you’ll fall apart without him.

“I dream about this,” he breathes against your neck. “About you. The sounds you make. The way you feel.”

You whimper, hips meeting his as he moves, every thrust perfectly measured, like he knows exactly how to ruin you.

The desk creaks. Your breath stutters. His name falls from your lips like it’s divine.

And Fred? He looks at you like you’re the altar and he’s the believer.

“Look at me,” he says.

You do.

And in that moment, it feels like love. It feels like everything.

—

After, you’re both quiet. The air is thick with sweat and secrets.

Fred leans against you, forehead resting on your shoulder. You thread your fingers through his hair.

“You’re going to get tired of sneaking around,” you say eventually, barely above a whisper.

He lifts his head. “You think that’s all this is?”

“I think we don’t talk about it.”

He’s silent for a beat. Then, “If this is a false god, I’ll still worship it.”

Your heart aches.

You don’t say anything else.

But when he kisses you again slow, soft, careful and you let him.

And when you both walk back to Gryffindor Tower separately, like strangers in the hall, you still feel him everywhere.

—

The next morning, everything feels different.

Not because of the sex — you’ve done that before. Not because he kissed you afterward like it meant something. He always does.

But because you’re starting to think it actually does mean something.

And that’s terrifying.

You’re sitting across from him at breakfast, trying not to look at him. He’s got a smirk tugging at his mouth, like he’s remembering how your legs shook around his waist last night.

George elbows him and mutters something. Fred laughs, but doesn’t respond. He glances at you and this time, you do look back.

Big mistake. Your stomach flips.

You tear your eyes away and dig into your toast. You don’t see the way Fred’s face falls.

—

You avoid him the rest of the day.

You tell yourself it’s because you’re busy. Because you’ve got that Herbology essay. Because you need to focus on literally anything else besides how Fred Weasley made you feel like something sacred in a dusty classroom.

But you can’t stop thinking about it. About him. About how, for a moment, it felt like more.

You’ve just turned the corner toward the Astronomy Tower again, your hiding place of choice

when a voice behind you says, “You’re avoiding me.”

You close your eyes. “No, I’m not.”

Fred scoffs. “You haven’t spoken to me since last night.”

You turn. He’s standing there in his school robes, tie loose, hair tousled. His expression is unreadable.

“I didn’t think we talked,” you stated in an almost cold tone.

He flinches.

You didn’t mean to sound cruel. But it’s easier this way, right? Easier to pretend it’s still just a game. Still just late nights and false promises.

Fred steps closer. “What do you want me to say? That I like you? That I’ve always liked you?”

Your heart stutters.

He lowers his voice. “Because I do. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”

The hallway is silent. You’re sure he can hear your heart hammering.

Then behind you someone clears their throat.

You both freeze.

And when you turn around, of course it’s McGonagall.

—

Fifteen minutes later, you’re standing in her office, both of you flushed and silent as she paces behind her desk.

“Mr. Weasley. Miss Y/L/N I’d like to remind you both that Hogwarts is not a… playground for romantic entanglements.”

Fred mumbles something like “Yes, ma’am.”

You resist the urge to crawl under the floor.

“I will not be assigning detention,” she continues, stern. “But I do expect a level of decorum going forward. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Professor,” you both say in unison.

She sends you off with a pointed look. You practically run down the corridor.

Fred catches up with you near the stairs.

“Well,” he says, trying not to laugh. “That was horrifying.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I’m never showing my face again.”

He gently pulls your hands away. “Hey.”

You look up at him. He’s not smiling anymore.

“Are you still going to pretend this doesn’t mean anything?” he asks.

You bite your lip. “No.”

He exhales, relief flooding his face. “Good.”

And then, without hesitation, he leans in and kisses you. Right there in the middle of the corridor, no classrooms, no shadows, no excuses.

When he pulls back, he grins. “Guess the secret’s out anyway.”

You laugh, breathless. “I’m still going to kill you for getting us caught.”

He throws an arm around your shoulder. “Totally worth it.”

And for the first time, you walk back into the common room together. No sneaking. No pretending.

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a/n: i need fred weasley to false god me so bad (｡♡︎‿♡︎｡)

Desc: jjk men dealing with reader who can't say 'no'.

An: self indulgent affff, but it's requested, thanks for sending it, love.💓

Characters: geto, gojo, nanami, sukuna, toji, choso!!