#a reaction turned into more of a drabble

[ysaefinn]

lol yeah mommyguru brainrot so real I was too drunk last night and sobbing at every little thing and when I crawled into bed I was thinking about how he would take care of me 💔

Oh my god anon 😭😭 this is such a wine-drunk moment and we can both agree that he is a visceral fucking need for sad intoxicated reader....

HE IS SO GOOD AT TAKING CARE OF A DRUNK YOU HOLLLYYYY MOLLLLLLLYYYYYYYY suguru really just dies for the chance to slide in and wrap u up in blankets, surround you with the plushies he can't stop himself from buying u and suffocating you with his boobs and sweet lingering kisses :3333ccccc you obviously never lack but when you're emotional and not thinking straight it just...hurts his heart...and his womb, brain empty, only baby matters, he really goes on autopilot and immediately picks you up to cradle you :((

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ match my freak !!

ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)

featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA

your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.

you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...

well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.

"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.

he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.

when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.

tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.

౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA

haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)

he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.

atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.

"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.

in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.

"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"

he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.

"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."

your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.

౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO

the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."

you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.

"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.

but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.

"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.

with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.

"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.

he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."

you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.

and he's going to give it to you.

౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?

he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.

even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.

he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.

"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."

౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA

everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?

he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.

"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.

"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.

"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.

"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"

tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?

as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.

౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA

your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—

suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.

you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.

because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.

your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.

your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.

"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.

[softaestluv]

I've been thinking about this for a while, but could you write a drabble or something about Simon's reaction to you trying to sleep on the couch after a fight?

Would he be mad and fight with you more or drag you to bed or silently let you sleep on the couch??

lmk × ×

It’s rare the two of you fight.

Argue? Sure.

Purposefully annoy each other? Definitely. Simon loves crawling under your skin just so he can watch you ride your frustrations out on his cock. He can’t help it, you’re cute.

But fighting? Petty comments, growling harsh words at each other, suffocating tension, silent treatment, and stubborn avoidance? You and Simon don’t do that.

Simon admits, he’s not exactly the easiest person to date, but you’re incredibly patient with him, even when he’s not communicating the way you need him to.

He’s a work in progress.

So, when you walk out of the shower, tugging on one of his oversized shirts, he thinks you’ll crawl into bed next to him like always. Instead, you grab your pillow, an extra blanket, and leave the room. Riley follows behind you, his own dog betraying him.

You have to be teasing, trying to teach him some lesson, remind him what it feels like to sleep in an empty bed if he doesn’t straighten up. He should be the one out there, sleeping in the dog house.

He lets you lay out there for exactly 12 minutes.

When he scoops you up, you pretend you’re asleep. Even when he lays you down on your side of the bed and slides in, you keep up the act.

“Oy,” He grumbles, pinching your cheek lightly, “I know you’re awake, dove.”

A breath of a smile twitches at the corners of your lips, but you turn your face into the pillow. No problem, he hoists you in his lap easy enough, pressed against the bed frame, and rests his hands on your spread thighs.

“Why the bloody hell you sleepin’ out there?”

You scowl at him, “Don’t wanna sleep with you.”

“No?” He tilts his head, smoothing his palms under your, his, shirt, “Why not, pretty girl?”

“Mad at you.”

He huffs a laugh, “Wearin’ my shirt, but don’t wan’ sleep with me?”

You start to peel the shirt off begrudgingly, but he swats your hands away, holding you in place with his thumb on your chin.

“ ‘nough of that. What kinda man d’ya think I am? Letting my bird sleep on a bloody sofa.” He says, “Send me out there.”

“But your feet hang off the edge.” You frown and it tightens his chest, even when you’re mad you’re thinking of his comfort.

He’d wake up with a hunched back and cramped legs if it made you happy.

“Exactly, ‘ts why we both belong right here.” He pats the mattress, scooting back down the bed to lay down, holding you against his chest. He presses his lips against the crown of your head, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

[mggslover]

judt thinking about reader and spencer making out and just doing stuff over clothes yk and spencer cumming his pants 🥰 (love your work btw !!)

dry humping with spencer genre: smut (18+) cw: just a bunch of variations on dry humping lol, inexperienced!spencer but his confidence grows throughout it, tit play, fingering, handjob over clothes wc: 1,6k a/n: i wrote this "drabble" so quickly, felt so inspired by your request. this was a really fun one, thank you!

From the moment you started dating Spencer Reid, you knew your relationship would be nothing like your previous ones. Not only was Spencer way kinder and more thoughtful than anyone you’ve ever dated, he was also more inexperienced.

Spencer’s lack of relationships and experience in the bedroom never posed a problem for you. In fact, you found it endearing that he was shyer than the average man, and it felt good to know you’d found someone who took your relationship seriously and wanted to take things slow before moving to the next step. 

Spencer didn’t mind all physical touch, though. You often found yourself cuddled up on the couch, facing him as you sat on his lap, his arms wrapped around you and his face hidden in the crook of your neck. 

As much as you tried to contain yourself, you were just a girl. And sitting on your boyfriend’s lap as he held you close and smelled deliciously like leather-bound books and overly sweetened coffee, turned you on. A lot. 

So it was a little more than an accident when, one day, during a passionate makeout session on the couch, you found yourself moving your hips against him. Spencer’s response was immediate, inhaling a sharp breath against your mouth. You pressed your lips back to his in a soft peck, making him forget about it until you repeated the movement a few minutes later. He responded with a whimper, and you pulled back enough to see the slight furrow in his brows and the twinkle in his eyes, his face speaking words he was too nervous to admit. 

“Do you want me to do it again?”

Spencer swallowed, giving a hesitant nod. His nerves quickly faded into pleasure as you put your hands on his shoulders, giving you enough grip to continue your motions. Your lips found his neck, and with a couple of licks and bites, he came undone, moaning incoherent words as his hips stuttered into you.

This event became a solid foundation to build on. Spencer’s confidence grew over time. Whereas it used to be only you who touched him, Spencer now dared to explore your body as well: his hands roaming over the sides of your thighs, wandering to the curve of your ass, kneading the covered skin as you grind your body against him. 

His warm hands would glide under your shirt, leading you to assure him that he could take it off. First came your top, then your bra. The more clothes you removed, the bigger Spencer’s need was to touch you. To take control. On his own initiative, he would squeeze your breasts, biting down on his bottom lip as your nipples hardened in reaction. He’d reach out to rub the buds in circular motions, until they stood peaked enough for him to wrap his lips around them. 

You’d revel in the feel of Spencer hungrily sucking on your nipples, gripping your tits tightly in his hands. He was like a man starved, having spent all his years without the touch of a woman. He couldn’t get enough, especially not because it was you. 

After a while, you even convinced him to get rid of his shirt. He didn��t regret his decision as you showered his chest in kisses, making him feel more loved than he thought was possible.

Eventually, Spencer wasn’t intimidated by the concept of dry humping anymore. Going as far as putting you into different positions. He’d have you on your hands and knees, your back arched as he thrusted against you. His strong hand would hold you by your thigh, the other placed on your shoulder as his denim-clad bulge repeatedly pressed against the thin fabric of your leggings. The rough material of his pants gave just enough friction for you to orgasm, your face pressed into the mattress as you cried out. Spencer only stopped once his pants reflected the same wet spot as yours had. 

-`♡´-

It was on a sunny morning that you found yourself tangled up in each other on top of his bedsheets. 

The heat of the night had resulted in both of you undressing down to your underwear. You woke up with Spencer pressed against your back, sleepily grinding his cock against the swell of your ass. Your moans woke him, and in practiced ease, he pulled you into a deep kiss. 

In all the months of dating, you had never seen Spencer in his underwear before. You could predict what his cock would look like based on the feel, but seeing his hard length stand proud in his boxers, pointing up to the small patch of hair covering his stomach, was a more mouthwatering sight than you’d imagined. 

Spencer lay on his back, his upper body propped up against some bundled-up pillows. Golden streams of sunlight hit his chest, and a tired smile graced his lips.

You happily climbed on top of him, your knees bent on either side of his body. You lowered yourself down onto his bulge, a satisfied moan leaving your lips as his length perfectly fitted between the space your thighs had created. His warm brown eyes never left yours as you placed your hands on his stomach, fingers digging into the soft skin as you moved your hips up and down. The room was filled with the soft creaking of the bed and the mixture of your moans. Another thing you loved about Spencer: he was loud. A whimpering and moaning mess every time your covered pussy made contact with his bulge.

When you looked down, you caught a glimpse of the tip of his cock peeking out from underneath his boxers, revealing itself as the fabric moved with your movements. It flushed a deep shade of pink and glistened with precum, seeming to accumulate with each roll of your hips. You didn’t want to bring any attention to it, scared he’d turn self-conscious, so instead you locked your lips with his.

He bit down on your bottom lip and moved his hands to your ass, helping you quicken your movements against his cock. You threw your head back in pleasure, giving him a beautiful view of your breasts as they caught the sunlight. He cupped them in his hands and thrust his hips up into you. 

His name left your lips in a high-pitched moan. “Oh, Spencer.”

“Am I making you feel good, sweetheart?”

You cried in response, nodding your head. Your sounds of pleasure always encouraged him. He felt bolder as he slipped his hand in his underwear, adjusting himself so that his tip rubbed deliciously against your soaked underwear. 

“Turn around for me, baby.” 

You turned around on his lap, leaning back against his chest. Your knees remained spread and bent, and he held you up by the back of your thighs as he slammed his bulge up into you. Your hand slipped to your underwear, rubbing your palm against your heat. Your clit stood swollen, the layer of cotton forming no barrier for your pleasure. 

Experimentally, your hand slid lower down to his cock, rubbing the length and cupping his balls over his underwear. 

“F-fuck, do that again,” Spencer breathed heavily.

You obeyed, jerking him through his boxers. You felt overwhelmed by the feeling of him, finally able to know how heavy he felt in your hands. Your fingertips softly traced the veins of his cock, and you could feel his breath heaving against your neck. He pressed a wet kiss to the sensitive skin, making you shiver. 

Spencer resumed where you left off, his hand making its way to your pussy. He hooked his fingers into the fabric of your underwear, pulling it aside and revealing how soaked you were. “All of this for me?”

You gasped as his long fingers trailed your outer lips. The pleasure clouded your mind, and you couldn’t find the words as your boyfriend, for the first time, slipped a finger inside of you. He curled his finger skillfully, and you would’ve believed it if he told you he’d done this a thousand times. 

The warmth in your core started building faster than anticipated. You reached out to grab Spencer’s wrist in an effort to ground yourself. He didn’t stop his movements, though, pumping his finger inside of you as he rutted against you at the same fast pace. 

“Spencer, I’m-” 

Your words got cut off as a leg-shaking orgasm washed over you. Spencer let out a deep groan, and you could feel his hot release forming underneath you. 

You hurriedly got off his lap, sitting on your knees next to him as you took in the scene. His underwear was translucent from your juices, and his happy trail was coated in his thick, white cum. 

“You made a mess of me,” Spencer chuckled, his voice still hoarse from waking up. 

You gave him a dreamy smile, and he returned it with a big, goofy grin.

“You look so incredibly hot, I wish I could fuck you.”

The words escaped your lips before you realized. You always made sure not to hint at wanting anything more than he was ready for, not wanting to rush him. You nervously looked up at him, but where you expected to find your boyfriend looking uncomfortable, his eyes shone with a compelling glimmer as he licked his lips.

“I think I’m ready for that.”

[jinusajas]

05/16/25; 12:15am

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you manhandle them to get their reaction ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

notes: inspired by that tiktok meme where the girlfriend / wife is able to pick up their man and set them on the counter (⺣◡⺣)♡

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

sylus’s back was facing you, since he was preoccupied with making dinner. while he continued to hum a familiar tune, you felt a smile slowly forming against your lips-

for you had an idea brewing within your mind.

knowing you had to act fast, you lunged toward him, hands wrapped around his waist. nearly dropping the knife he held in response, sylus calls out your name, only to have his eyes go wide when you manage to pick him up with a strength that surprises even him. still caught in a daze, sylus watches you successfully turn him around before settling him on top of the marble counters.

you stand in front of him then, keeping him steady while resting the palm of your hand above his kneecaps. once the momentary shock passes, a dark look takes over his expression, “that was by far one of the hottest things you have ever done to me, sweetie.”

your grin grows into something more deviant, with your fingertips gently ghosting across the front of his pants, gently palming his clothed erection. a low hiss escapes from sylus’s parted lips, “you think that was hot? well, things are about to get much hotter.”

spreading his legs, you manage to pull down the zipper of his pants, seeing the tent within his boxers before carefully freeing his cock. practically salivating at the sheer size of him, you brace yourself on the counter before leaning down. kissing the mushroom tip of his cock, you licked away at the beads of precum that escapes, basking in the musky taste of him before putting him fully into your mouth.

the onychinus leader was already weak to your heated touches, with his eyes clenched shut as his large hand grips at your hair, moving your head back and forth on his shaft while you cupped at his balls. the sensation of your tongue tracing at the veins that pulsates around his erection was enough to have his cock twitching with need for you. and with one final suck, sylus releases himself into your awaiting mouth, feeling almost dizzy with pleasure when you manage to take him down your throat.

he shoots his seed deep inside of your wet mouth, certain that he had coated it white while you let out a soft mewl of satisfaction. only when you swallowed all that he had to offer did you remove yourself from his softening cock, a devilish smile painting your features when you purposely meet his gaze.

then, without saying another word, you stand back to your full height. after wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you turn your attention back to the bowl of salad and began cutting up even more vegetables before adding the dressing. while you went on with preparing dinner (acting like nothing fucking sinful had just transpired between you and him) sylus shakes his head while letting out a shaky laugh. he gets off the counter, adjusting his pants so he was fully dressed once more (ignoring how the remnants of his cum stained at his clothes.)

noticing the cheshire cat grin that graces your expression, sylus knew that he had to get his revenge soon.

it starts out innocent enough-

you were on a rather popular social media app, and there was a viral prank going around that had women picking up their beloved boyfriends before setting them on the counter-

and you desperately wanted to try this new trend with zayne.

you had finished eating your meal, with zayne’s back facing you while he worked on washing the dishes. you wait for him to finish, placing the last plate on the drying rack before facing you. he sees you and smiles, ready to say your name when you suddenly lunged at him.

with your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, you turn him around and manage to set him on top of your kitchen counter. zayne was silent throughout the entire ordeal, all while you had a smug expression on your face.

“not so bad, right zaynie?”

yet he doesn’t answer you with words, choosing instead to lift your chin up before pressing a searing kiss against your lips. wrapping his arms around your back, zayne brings you up to the counter with him, eyes burning with desire for you when he hoarsely calls out your name, “you never cease to surprise me.”

settling you on his lap, your eyes went wide upon feeling his cock straining against his dress pants. keeping a vice grip on your hips, he forces you to place your legs on either side of him, grinding his clothed erection against your center. feeling the moisture pool between your legs, you steady yourself on his shoulder, humping him with a neediness you hadn’t felt for him in a long time.

“you’re mine…” zayne hotly whispers into your ear, hands already working on pulling down your shorts. once you were left in your panties did he move the flimsy fabric to the side, plunging two of his fingers within your heat as he worked on pumping them in and out of you. by now, you became a mess of sobs, your walls already clinging to zayne’s fingers while yearning for something much bigger-

something that was able to reach into you so deeply that all you could think of was him-

your beloved zayne.

you had wanted to try this trend out for a while now, but knew that you couldn’t strike until xavier was completely caught off guard-

and what better way to surprise your boyfriend than when he first wakes up in the morning?

with your sole mission in mind, you purposefully woke up an hour early, knowing that your sudden absence from bed would manage to rouse xavier from his slumber. as you busied yourself with your usual morning routine, you hear the bathroom door open coupled along with xavier’s sleepy voice calling out to you.

finished with brushing your teeth and washing your face, you wait for xavier to approach you. he calls out your name once more, but instead of answering, you manage to wrap your arms around his waist. you see his eyes go wide momentarily, yet manage to pick him up and place him on top of the bathroom counter.

with your prank accomplished, you finally meet his gaze and began giggling. his blond hair was still a tangled mess due to how he had just woken up, and his true blue eyes still had a drowsy quality to them-

yet perhaps what was most shocking was the noticeable tent seen against the front of his boxers.

“that was really damn hot, starlight.” his raspy voice breaks you out of your reveries, making you smile when you spread his legs before settling yourself between them. “is that so?”

a tinge of pink was seen on xavier’s cheeks, making your smile widen when you ask in a sultry voice, “want me to make things even hotter?”

not even waiting for a response, you slowly take off your shirt, revealing your naked chest to him. the sight of your nakedness was enough to cause a surge of heat to course through him, making his cock twitch within the confines of his boxers.

placing both hands on the waistband of his boxers, you pull them down to free his cock before leaning forward. putting your breasts together against his shaft, you slowly moved your soft mounds against his velvety hard cock, earning a grunt from your beloved hunter. “ngh! fuck!”

you were all too eager to stroke his cock using the softness of your breasts, basking in his every moan and desperate grunt of your name while thinking to yourself-

i could get used to this.

rafayel was currently distracted, looking at all the unfinished sketches within his sketchbook. in a rare moment, he seemed uncertain of what to make for his next piece, and admittedly, it was stressing him out a bit.

wanting to cheer him up and bring him out of his slump, you had a rather silly idea. sneaking up on him, you call out his name while wrapping your arms around his front.

“whoa! princess?!”

ignoring his outburst, you manage to carry the lemurian out of his studio and into the kitchen, successfully placing him on top of the counter all while giggling.

“i didn’t think i could do this trend!” you continue to laugh, leaning against him as you cling to the front of his shirt. while you were basking in your hidden strength, rafayel had legitimate heart in his eyes for you, suddenly clinging to you when he demands that you carry him back to your shared bedroom.

you meet his gaze, shivering when you saw that they looked like endless voids filled with lust for you. acting on pure instinct and need alone, you proceed to carry rafayel all the way back to your bedroom.

and just moments later, when his luxurious mattress was in sight, rafayel has you utterly naked, with his hands tightly gripping your waist as he eagerly bounces you up and down his cock.

“you drive me crazy, princess. everything you do makes me so damn needy for you.” he punctuates his words with another powerful thrust, making you see stars as you continue to brace yourself on his chest, sloppily riding him as you chased your high.

coming home from work, you announced your return home and waited for caleb to acknowledge you-

but only heard silence in response.

frowning slightly, you toss your bag to the side, already making the trek toward your shared bedroom to find caleb still asleep.

he probably took a nap. you think to yourself before shutting the door, giving him some peace and quiet as you made your way back into the kitchen. deciding to make yourself a simple meal consisting of a toasted sandwich and some soup, you worked on getting out the ingredients. as you were assembling your sandwich, you heard the sound of steady footsteps joining you in the kitchen.

“mmm, watcha doin’ pips?” you slowly meet caleb’s gaze, seeing his sleepy expression as an idea struck you. he comes closer to you, ready to take you within his embrace-

but you manage to beat him, catching him off guard when you wrap your arms around his back, picking him up completely before setting him on the kitchen counter. your name falls from his lips in a series of stutters, clearly caught of guard by what you had just done all while you were left smirking at him.

he sees your smirk, eyes now darkening considerably when grips at your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “oh, so you think you’re stronger than me now just because you pulled off a few tricks?”

not even giving you a chance to respond, the colonel manages to pick you up, shoving aside all the food to make room for you. your breathing hitches in response to his sudden actions, with your heart racing in anticipation when he manages to slip his large hand beneath the waistband of your pants and panties.

teasing your center, his fingertips trail down the fabric of your panties, feeling how damp the fabric had become just seconds after he began touching you. “so you need me too…” he whispers harshly against your ear before biting down on it, “and don’t you dare try to deny it either.”

freeing his cock from the confines of his sweatpants, caleb gently traces at your ass, admiring its curve before giving it an audible smack!

unable to contain yourself, you allow caleb to take off your pants, shoving aside the gusset of your panties before slamming you down on his cock. your reaction was immediate, tossing your head back while your back arched against him. you proceed to wildly bounce up and down his cock, not caring about all of the spilled vegetables and deli meats that had landed on your kitchen floors-

not when caleb was doing such a phenomenal job fucking your brains out.

end notes: unedited af, but i’m just too oh so thirsty and needy to care 🤤

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[tender-rosiey]

Can u do a drabble with jjk men where their child gets into a physical fight?

"MY KID IS NOT GUILTY, YOUR HONOR!"

— when your kid with gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto, and toji gets into a fight (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

your husband happily swings your hands together, as you walk to the principal’s office. meanwhile, you’re worried sick about s/n and what happened to him.

satoru rubs your hand reassuringly before slamming the door open and yelling, “did you win?!”

your eyes widen, but before you interject, s/n replies back enthusiastically, “yes, I did!”

you hurry to your son, kneeling in front of him to check him thoroughly.

you let out a sigh of relief when you see that he isn’t hurt in any way. sensing your distress, he hugs you. “I missed you, mama,” he says, snuggling into your neck.

“me too,” you smile and almost get lost in the moment, but then you hear a camera shutter. you look back and see your husband, holding a camera.

“oops, don’t mind me, hun.”

the dad of the other boy—who you didn’t notice was even there—stands up, livid, “can you take this a bit more seriously?! my son is injured!”

you’re about to reply yourself, but then satoru beats you to it. he stands right in front of the man and looks down at him, “surely, you’re not yelling at my wife, right?”

the man stumbles back into his chair, and satoru stares him down, making him sink even further into the chair.

the mother then speaks to you, “what your son did is unacceptable! look at how my baby is right now!”

looking at the other boy, you decide that the mother has every right to be mad. his nose is bleed profusely. you’re pretty sure it’s broken.

you look at your son and quirk an eyebrow, “s/n? what happened?”

“I was showing my friends the picture I got of you, and he said you were ugly! he can’t do that!”

your husband turns back and gasps, “he did what?!”

as if the dad himself is the one that is getting scolded, his eyes get teary.

meanwhile, you see the mother whispering to the boy, and he nods, ashamed. she looks back at you and says, “however, what your son did is not acceptable.”

“I know that the reaction was a bit much, but what your son did is also unacceptable,” you answer with your son nodding behind you.

“well—can you not be so close to my husband?” she snaps at satoru, whose cursed energy is increasing.

“you and your husband need to get taught a lesson if you raise a kid that’s so stupid he thinks my beautiful, divinie, and drop dead gorgeous wife is ugly,” he states, and the lady finds herself shrinking back beside her husband.

the little boy also scrambles into his parents’ embrace.

you place your hand on satoru’s forearm, and he immediately relaxes.

you smile and press a kiss to his cheek then pat your son’s back before instructing him softly, “you have to apologize for hurting him so much, though, s/n, okay?”

your son, ever the obedient sweetheart when it comes to you, looks at the boy, “I am sorry, but you should be sorry too!”

the other boy nods, crying, “I am sorry!”

your son nods, satisfied with the answer. your husband then picks s/n up and spins him around as he sings his praises, “I am so proud of you for defending mama like that! so so proud!”

the boy grins happily and hugs his dad. satoru then raises his finger, “but you gotta know that people are weak, so we can only do this to them all the time.”

your son nods eagerly, before wiggling to the ground. he runs to you, excited to tell you about his day. you grin and listen to him happily, ignoring the crying family on the other side.

your husband kisses the top of your head before turning to the principal with a smirk, “so, principal, is there anything you would like to say?”

“I am gonna piss myself.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

you dragged sukuna to the principal’s office, after you got a call of a major incident happening involving him. your husband insisted on dismissing it, but you just had a feeling that something is seriously wrong.

you both enter the office, eyes immediately falling on your son who is sitting unbothered on the chair. meanwhile, the principal is resting his elbows on the desk and striking a pose that could only be described as trouble.

when s/n sees you two, his eyes light up, and he runs to give you—and only you—a hug. sukuna scowls, “what about me?”

“you said you don’t like my hugs,” your son huffs, averting his eyes away. sukuna stares at him for a second, before picking him up by the scruff and placing him in his arms.

the boy looks at his dad, shocked, before snuggling into his embrace.

your husband leans his head just a bit on s/n’s head. you both then direct your attention to the waiting principal.

the principal taps his fingers together, but sukuna grumbles, “are you not gonna talk?”

you stifle a giggle—which sukuna notices and you notice the slight smirk now present on his face. the principal looks up at the three of you then speaks slowly, “well, you see…”

he looks up, “your son set my car on fire.”

a few beats pass.

then your husband barks out a laugh, one so hearty that it catches everyone but you off-guard.

the principal looks incredously at sukuna. your son tilts his head in confusion, before sukuna ruffles his hair, “how did you even do that? seriously, that’s my son for you!”

the boy thrives off his dad’s praise, and they get lost in their world, as your son details how he orchestrated everything.

the principal frowns, vexed. he clears his throat to speak up, “sir, I think you might have misheard. I am saying your son—”

“did I ask you to repeat yourself?”

the tone leaves no room for discussion, and it also sends shivers down the principal’s spine. your little boy snickers, and you side-eye him, effectively shutting him up.

the principal shakes his head slowly, then he looks at you for help.

truthfully, the man has every right to be both terrified and offended cause what the hell kinda is able to set a car on fire and act so nonchalant about it? it’s the kinda kid with a dad who backs him up for it.

however, the man assumes that voice of reason is you.

you want to help, but you’re just too tired. so, you smile, “I understand that what happened is harsh, sir,” he lights up, then you continue, “but surely, you can get a new one, right?”

the man pauses and looks at you with wide eyes, before spluttering, “wha—ma’am, you can’t be serious—"

“surely, you. can. get. a. new. one. right?” you glare.

the man nods frantically.

sukuna smirks pridefully, and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. he leans his face near your ear and whispers, “my kinda woman.”

you smile and wrap your arm around his waist and squeeze his hip in return. you both exchange affectionate bedroom looks, forgetting about the frightened principal.

meanwhile, s/n looks at you guys, wrorried, and murmurs, “mom, you’re scarier than dad.”

despite what he says, s/n jumps into your arms and nuzzles against your cheek. your husband rolls his eyes with no real annoyance behind them.

with all the courage left in him, the principal smiles nervously and stutters, “you—you can leave now; I sincerely and deeply apologize for the hold up.”

nobody moves an inch.

“…please leave.”

NANAMI KENTO:

you, your husband, and your daughter are now seated in the principal’s office.

you are waiting for the other kid and her parents to come in as well. you’re tapping your feet, restlessly, but kento lays his hand on your knee and rubs it gently.

he nods at you, and you smile.

you know your daughter would never fight unprovoked. said daughter gets off her chair and climbs into your lap. she hugs you tightly, and you instantly start petting her hair.

she lets a small sigh, but then the principal enters the office with the other parents in toe. you see your husband’s eyes narrow, before he leans close to d/n and asks gently, “isn’t that the girl you said was bullying your friend?”

your daughter nods intensely and whispers back, “she was about to hit her today, and you told me not to let people bully others! that’s why I hit her.”

you pat her head, and she grins. kento hums then nods, “I get that, but couldn’t you get a teacher, sweetheart?”

“the teacher would’ve taken too long!” your daughter huffs, and she is right. but, there still is a lesson that she needs to understand.

the principal clears his throat and sits in his chair. “well mr. and mrs. nanami, your daughter has inflicted pain on a friend of hers—”

“bullies aren’t my friends!”

good saying, but this probably isn’t the time. you pat her back, and she instantly understands what you mean, so she—begrudgingly—calms down.

the principal continues, “as I was saying, she hit her classmate, and as you can see, it left a bruise. such violent acts are prohibited in this respected establishment.”

“shouldn’t bullying be prohibited as well?” you ask, and the man splutters.

“that doesn’t happen—”

“i can assure you that my wife is speaking the truth,” kento backs you up, “if you would like, we can check the cameras or what the teachers say regarding the environment you’re fostering.”

your daughter’s head starts spinning from the big words.

your husband places a hand on the top of her head before resuming, “while I acknowledge that my daughter shouldn’t have been physical in defending her friend, you ought to acknowledge that what the other girl did was also unacceptable.”

“and since you want to solve the root of the problem, shouldn’t you punish the one that did the bullying and warranted my daughter to act in defense?” you press on, and the principal gulps.

the father of the girl stands up, “my princess would do no such thing—”

“your record isn’t that pretty either, so I suggest you sit down,” you say with a smile, and it does the trick. the man immediately sticks to his wife—who has said nothing, and you assume it’s because she knew what her daughter did.

everybody keeps staring at each other for a while, with your daughter having a staring contest with the other girl.

“we will deal with our daughter accordingly,” kento speaks up as he stands up, straightening his suit, “but we expect that the girl is also held accountable for her shameful actions. thank you.”

you and d/n get up, and the three of you exit the office—like icons. kento holds your hand and d/n’s, and you giggle, “did you see how they looked?”

“should you be encouraging d/n about laughing at others?” your husband asks with a small quirk of his eyebrow. you nod confidently.

“if they’re rude then yes!”

he shakes his head helplessly with a smile. then your daughter looks up to kento as you are walking and says excitedly, “dad, I won!”

your husband looks down at her then smiles gently, nodding as he gives her a thumbs up. you raise your eyebrows and gasp lowly, “hypocrisy?”

“hmm, I don’t know.”

GETO SUGURU:

your daughters hang off their dad’s back as you guys head to the principal’s office. they squeal and giggle, and suguru has an ever-permanent smile.

he is holding onto your hand gently and says, “don’t worry; I doubt that the girls actually caused damage.”

“I know, but what I am curious about is why they would get into something,” you reply, pensive, “I know my daughters very well,” you smile, and the girls grin.

they start chanting your name, clapping, and saying I love you a million times.

you open the door slowly and are met with the principal standing in front of his desk and a girl standing on top of it. your eyebrows furrow in confusion, as you all enter.

your husband wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. he tilts his head, “so, what’s wrong?”

the man drums his fingers on the desk, leaning back, “your daughters have ganged up on my daughter.”

the both of you take a moment to examine the girl from afar. there seems nothing wrong with her: no bruise, no blood, no nothing.

you exchange looks, and you take the turn to speak up, “your daughter looks okay to me.”

the man huffs and crosses his arms, “she was hurt emotionally! severely too!”

the girl nods strongly and pouts. her dad gasps and hugs her. he then starts coddling her before asking her, “what did they say to you, sugarplum?”

“they said that I looked like a mole rat, daddy!” she replies, hand on her chest as she ‘falls’ to her knees, “and—and that’s only one of the many bad things they said!”

the man gasps yet again and starts comforting her.

you and your husband let out a snort, barely containing your laughter. the girls puff their chest in confidence. you and suguru look at each other with a poorly hidden grin, and you get caught.

the man fumes, “you’re laughing at my dear sweet princess sugar?!”

“no, we are laughing at the insult,” you reply.

“it’s quite creative,” suguru chuckles before turning to the girls who have long let go of him. he kneels down and asks them, “why did you guys do that?”

“she pulled my hair!” one of the twins spoke.

the other chimes in, “and she made fun of me.”

“oh.”

just from that word alone, you can tell which path your husband is gonna take in continuing this conversation. you have a half a mind to make him summon rainbow dragon to take you home.

you just wanted to know the reason, and suguru is probably never going to leave it at that. forget how ‘calm’ he usually is, his family should never be insulted.

“…see, this why you’re all a bunch of monkeys.”

“monkeys!!” the twins scream in unison.

this time both the principal and the daughter gasp incredulously. your secretly a diva of a husband carries your girls then holds your hand before exiting the office.

he walks in silence, and you quirk an eyebrow, “so, what are you going to do, mister ‘filthy monkeys’?”

“I have a feeling that you’re making fun of me, honey.”

“and that feeling would be right.”

the girls settle on his shoulders, freeing his arms, and he takes the chance to tickle you. you squeal, “suguru, stop! I am serious! not in public!”

“but you’re being mean, sweetheart,” he mock pouts, “such bad things you’re saying.”

your roll your eyes, and you guys continue on your merry way back home.

that event passed by like a breeze, but for some reason, the school has been appointed a new principal because the last one went missing.

I wonder why.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

“relax, ma,” your husband says as he rubs your shoulder in hopes of comforting you, “the kid is surely fine; he is our son after all.”

“I know, toji! but what if he did get hurt?” you fret then scowl, “I swear to god, if they harm a single hair on megumi’s head, I will make them wish they were never born!”

toji smirks lightly and ruffles your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, before opening the door. he sees megumi sat, arms crossed and frowning.

involuntary, toji lets out a sigh of relief, and you waste no time in going to your son and checking on him, bombarding him with questions.

“did you get hurt?”

“no.”

“did he hurt you?”

“no.”

“are you okay?”

“yes.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, mom, I am fine,” megumi murmurs, cheeks heating up at your affection. toji chuckles at the display before looking at the principal.

the man purses his lips before sighing, “your son has beaten up jay.”

you and your husband blink silently. then your husband tilts his head, “who?”

the principal grits his teeth before standing up. he crosses his arms before huffing, “jay, the son of the town’s mayor! that boy is as important as his father, yet your son has so brazenly hurt him!”

you frown, “I don’t care who he is, and I am sure that my son won’t hit somebody for no reason!”

megumi nods, and you smile at him.

you pat his hair gently, and he reluctantly leans into the affection. meanwhile, toji has been listening silently before turning to megumi and asking, “who the hell is that?”

“the one with the sea slug hair,” he replies instantly. you let out a hum of recognition.

your husband stares blankly before he clicks his finger, “oh,” he then looks at megumi and ruffles his hair with a small grin, “I hated that kid’s dad—good job.”

megumi lets out a small smile before giving his dad a thumbs up. you roll your eyes with no real annoyance behind them and side-eye toji.

toji chuckles then looks at the fuming principal. the man, now red in the face, yells, “mr fushiguro, that is unacceptable behavior from both you and your son!”

“…okay?”

you shake your head and usher megumi out of the room. you and toji share a look, before you close the door. the moment it clicks, your husband turns to the principal with a blank face.

he takes a few steps, stopping right in front of the man. toji grabs the principal’s shoulder then speaks lowly, “you won’t speak of this, ‘kay?”

he nods frantically, face contorting as he tries to compose himself. toji smirks and heads to the door with a small wave, “see ya never, teach.”

your husband finds you and megumi in the school’s garden.

he sees megumi and yuuji—his friend—playing together, while you relax on the bench. for some reason, toji feels a wave of warmth flood his chest as when he sees you and megumi smiling.

yuuji yells something to you that makes you laugh heartily. toji feels himself relax and smile just slightly. it’s moments like these he feels ever so grateful to have you in his life.

and he swears to forever protect you and megumi. he has acknowledged a long time ago that his only wish is to be by your side.

that’s why, in no time, he is behind you, effectively blocking the sun. you look up from where you’re sat to your husband.

“hey pretty,” he hums.

you chuckle as he rests his elbows on the bench, “slain?”

he grins, “slain.”

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[theorist-fox]

Simon tries something new

Little drabble to get me out of the block.

Word count: 630

18+

CW: smut, simon spits in your mouth :)

Simon's homecoming sex is always slow.

Too much adrenaline to digest, too many memories to bury so they can never be dug out again.

It's kisses on your neck until your skin melts under his tongue. Lean fingers working you open until his palm is soaked and your breathing uneven.

Soft legs around his waist, your arms holding his head to your face, kissing the aches of his mind away.

It's rare for him to change from his usual unhurried pace, to break through that comforting tempo he's so used to—like the rhythm of a tune that calls him back home. Like a siren, coaxing his soul away from the bloodshed and back into his body—and his body back to you.

A big hand leaves its gentle grip on your waist, curling firmly at the base of your jaw to hold your head steady against the plush pillow.

He collects a glob of spit in his mouth. It falls into a string, slowly, until it sits at the slit of your lips.

It startles you, at first—brows fluttering to your forehead. But even in the haze of sex you manage to recollect yourself just in time.

A shaky exhale from your nose, and then you lick your lips deliberately, slow as anything, gauging a reaction from his eyes.

He watches how your throat bobs when you swallow it down.

He watches when you open your mouth again, pink tongue hanging out. Inviting, warm.

He cums right afterwards with a muted curse.

Doesn't care if he's sensitive as can be when he fucks you through his orgasm, then through yours, until your legs are trembling so fiercely that he thinks he's shattered you like the finest porcelain.

A stolen kiss, sloppy and wet. One where his lips taste yours fully, where your teeth clack as they're in the way.

Simon doesn't pull out. Waits a tick instead, hiding in the curve of your shoulder, long enough for his blood to return to where he needs it, still inside of you—so tight in the afterglow of your orgasm that he thinks he might cum again if he's not careful.

He fucks you a second time, ensuring your lips never part from his.

When he rolls onto his back, taking you with him, he lets you take the lead. Impaled right on his lap, hips dancing like waves on the shore, mouth parted to breathe softly and slow.

It's your turn now, he guesses, because suddenly lithe fingers are wrapped around his chin. Your thumb tugs at his lower lip as your hips slow to a more controlled pace.

"Open," you whisper.

Simon can only oblige. One look into your eyes is all it takes, his mouth already open before you even ask.

Your spit lands slowly on the flat of his tongue. He tastes it like you're dripping honey in his mouth, like that's his favorite thing to savor after weeks away from everything good.

His hand comes to cradle the back of your head only to pull you down, where he kisses you until his head spins because he doesn't care to breathe—doesn't think it matters.

"Like it when you tell me wha' to do," he says to your lips. "S' a nice change of pace."

You can hear the smile in his voice.

So, you smile too.

"Yeah?" You reply, panting softly against his mouth. "Then be a good one and fuck me like you haven't seen me in weeks, eh?"

Not the hardest order he's ever had to follow, he reckons, since it's the truth.

He breathes a chuckle, but otherwise agrees, stealing yet another kiss from you. Arms fully wrapped around your waist, feet planted on the bed, Simon fucks you like he hasn't seen you in weeks. 

"Yes ma'am."

[blanc-ci]

I KNOW his ass is hitting the

“ is it hot in here or is that just you? “

Where are his two beautiful boys to help make sure he gets home safe?

I wrote a silly drabble for this and your warnings are: not explicit, McCoy is drunk and horny, and this is pre-established mcspirk so there’s quite a bit of un-spoken understanding about the consent around that.

—

In the after-party of a frankly excessive diplomatic wedding, Jim had one of McCoy’s arms slung over his shoulder and was attempting to drag him out of the reception hall. With Spock two steps ahead, leading the way. Bones was humming drunkenly, or mumbling something, it was kind of hard to tell over all the noise, but the vibrations against his side were distinct and endearing.

"I think we should let him drink champagne more often, never seen him cut so loose,” he half-shouted at Spock’s back and, as if to prove his point, Bones started giggling from his spot pressed into Jim’s side.

"Would cut loose be referring to when he began stripping or when he nearly climbed on stage to join the dancers?” Spock called back over his shoulder, not looking for an answer and not slowing his pace as he neatly parted the sea of bodies.

Jim pursed his lips, honestly considering it, in the right context he doesn't really think he'd mind either of those things. Though stripping is a little exaggerated, it was just the outer layers really. But, fine, he’ll concede, to the cultured eye McCoy’s rolled sleeves were not unlike lingerie. He’d rag on Spock for that if he wasn’t already having trouble keeping pace with him.

Thankfully, the air was getting cooler, and the crowd thinner. Soon Spock was ushering them out of the venue and into the brisk other-worldly night. Jim glanced around. Definitely not the main entrance, i.e. they'd have to walk the perimeter for Spock-knows how long to get back to the hovercar- but he did appreciate the lack of people.

He took the chance to readjust McCoy’s body against his and, equally, their good doctor took the chance to lean into the crook of his neck. Mumbling something giddily against Jim’s collar. He shivered and gave a sidelong smirk down at the man,

“Hm? What was that?”

“Should’ve let me dance,” Bones lolled his head up to look at him, and then across towards Spock, sloppy grin and dropped lashes making him look particularly debauched,

“I could’ve given you one helluva show~”

Spock turned and stepped in close, tidying the disarrayed mess of hair clinging to McCoy’s forehead,

“if you wish to dance for us, you can do it someplace with much less of an audience.”

McCoy gasped, glittering,

“a private show? Spock, you sly dog.”

“That is not-“

“Oh it definitely was, let’s get to the car, then I can-“

They bickered in flirtatious circles, though Jim could see McCoy was definitely more checked into his own fantasy than their actual conversation. He feels warm and pleasantly exasperated,

“Bones, you had like four glasses, I’m a bit more worried about that impending hangover you have to look forward to.”

Than any other impending issues.

“Hmm- It might’ve been more,” McCoy tilted his head back looking up at the night, after a distracted pause he turned back to them, scowling- more like pouting,

“Can’t I take advantage of our time before the massive impending hangover?”

Before he could even reply, Jim watched the man consider his own words, and start giggling all over again,

“Or.. can’t you take advantage of my time?”

McCoy’s fingers moved to try and re-start their much earlier work of undoing his top buttons. Pretty unsuccessfully. Jim continued to watch, entertained, as Spock huffed and lightly smacked Bones’ hand aside, fastening the buttons all the way back up. More chaste than ever but still undeterred, McCoy leaned in suddenly, jostling Jim out of his adoring, doe-y eyed revelry.

Bones began whispering heatedly into Spock’s ear, and though Jim couldn't hear every detail, the not-really minute reactions Spock gave were enough of a clue. He cleared his throat,

“Back to the hotel then?”

When they parted Spock raised a brow and said nothing, turning to walk- presumably- in the direction of the car park. Jim followed, making interested half-noises to Bones’ continued horny rambling.

It was dark, but if he squinted could just make out the lovely deep green flush gracing their vulcan’s ears.

[augmerin]

emperor!sukuna who you were nurtured from young to be wed off to, your parents working behind the scenes, scheming and pulling strings to ensure your standing next to him

emperor!sukuna who on your wedding day, found your reactions to him to be quite amusing—seeing how there's a hidden fire underneath your little obedient act, better than those old minded fools who only nod and smile at his words

a fire that ended up being your saving grace when you finished through the whole ceremony alive and in one piece

emperor!sukuna who used your wedding day as a way to weed out traitors and send a warning to your parents for using such cheap tricks—you—to tie him down through marriage of all things, yet ensured your sight remains on him despite the ongoing carnage behind you 

somehow, he prefers your eyes on him ever since the moment you walked into the hall dressed in nothing but fine silk

emperor!sukuna who seemed to look at you as a fun little plaything, an entertainment for his seemingly endless, monotonous days; summoning you to the court room just to waste your time, pushing your buttons to see you snap just for you to regret it, finding humor in the way you would tense and wait for his next action

emperor!sukuna who once walked in on you reading a book in the imperial library, your voice echoing throughout the quiet atmosphere as you read to yourself, standing for quite some time while hidden from sight as if hypnotized

emperor!sukuna who disturbs your reading time the next day, plopping into the seat before you and demanding you to continue reading out loud, reveling in the way you flushed after being caught speaking out loud to yourself

emperor!sukuna who brings back prized harvests from his hunts, thinking of how such fine fur would fit you, but instead presenting it to you as nothing more than some trash he picked up from the side of the paths he traveled 

though the pristine condition says otherwise

emperor!sukuna who begins to seek out your presence, intentionally disturbing you throughout different times of the day just to get a glimpse of your face and the various emotions you seem to wear despite trying your hardest to remain indifferent

emperor!sukuna who feels a certain sense of satisfaction when he noticed how your shoulders no longer tense by being in the same room as him, how your smile no longer seem strained at the slightest provocation and instead turned into one of teasing

emperor!sukuna who found solace in doing the most mundane things with you, whether it be having meals and teatimes, walking around the gardens, lazing around in his private chambers

emperor!sukuna who now treats you as a, if not his, precious being, not letting you out of his sight, dressing you in only the finest garments and glittering jewels, who would do anything to ensure that you’ll grace him with a smile and that little twinkle in your eyes

emperor!sukuna who is still a bloodthirsty, cruel man, but in your arms, he is nothing more than a docile husband who loves his wife for eternity and beyond

first sukuna drabble...might be part of a series if im not lazy LMAO

[deepspace-scenarios]

[scenario/drabble] Claymores and first aid

Summary: LI's reactions when they accidentally get injured by you. Because sometimes, keeping you safe in orbital trials means fighting in close proximity, and accidents are bound to happen. Genre: Fluff, mild hurt/comfort, vague mentions of injury (not graphic); TW: suggestiveness

SYLUS

The moment the Wanderer dissolves into shimmering particles, Sylus turns away- too quickly. You catch the flicker of silver light along his ribs- a signature mark of your claymore- before his regeneration powers can fully activate. 

His smirk is already in place when you grab his wrist, but you feel the faint tremor in his muscles. Black and red mist lingers on his side for a moment, his wound soon disappearing along with the mist.

"Kitten," he says, "You're more distraught than I am."

You press your fingers to the wound, and his breath hitches- just once. The glow of your claymore lingers stubbornly, despite the skin being healed. His amusement fades into something darker, more intrigued. 

"Hm. Seems your blade left a signature." His hand covers yours, pressing it harder against his skin. “I'm beginning to think you chose the claymore on purpose, just to do this to me,”

The way his eyes gleam suggests he wouldn’t mind if it was. 

You scoff. “If I wanted to use weapons on you, it wouldn't be during battle.”

He leans closer. “You're getting so soft these days, kitten, it's hard to believe.”

Two can play at this game. 

You tug at his jacket, pulling him close. His crimson eyes widen, just the slightest.

“Well I'm your accomplice, aren't I? Besides, if I really wanted to leave a mark on you- I'd do something else,” You kiss his cheek, tapping the spot with your finger afterwards.

“I'll take your word for it.” He smirks, bringing you in for an embrace, the kind that feels grounding, solid, and infinitely safe- that is, until you feel his fingers thread through your hair. He holds the back of your head to his chest now- a subtle, gentle grip, but one that reminds you of his true strength and command on any battlefield.

Yet, for someone who just teased you for being soft, his tone when he speaks again remains doting, the kind he uses when he's endlessly endeared by something you do.

“It will take much more than that sparkly sword of yours to wound me. And- if you're still worried about the sparkles on my skin, just see it as a little souvenir to commemorate this victory.”

---

XAVIER

Xavier kneels amidst the fading ice crystals from the Wanderer, his cloak dusted with frost. He doesn’t react when you approach- not until you see the silver glow seeping through the fabric at his upper back, along his shoulder. 

Oh, no.

"Xavier-"

"Not your fault," he murmurs, as if he's read your mind already. But when you reach for him, he catches your wrist, his grip firm. 

"Your claymore carries remnants of the galaxy," he says, head turned to the side to study the shimmer along his wound. "Fascinating."

When he looks at you, his gaze is steady, and his voice is soft.

"Will you help me inspect it?"

His fingers intertwine with yours to bring you closer, a silent reassurance that you are still his reliable partner despite the outcome of battle. Your heart swells with both hurt and guilt. He's always so calm, so patient, even when his well-being is on the line.

You nod, gently removing your hand from his and moving to check the injury. He lets out a shaky breath when your fingers touch the torn fabric.

“Xavier- let's get you back to the Association's clinic,”

“Can't we go home?” 

You can hear the pout in his voice. He winces when he tries to stand up, a clear sign that he isn't fit for any place but a medical facility.

You bring his uninjured arm over your shoulders to help him stand up. He groans at the movement.

To think that this is happening because of you sends a fresh wave of guilt through you.

When you turn to look at him, the pout is back in place- and you try to push the guilt aside and rack your brain to think of ways to persuade him.

“Would you go if… if you get cuddles in exchange? And as many kisses as you like, when we get home. For the rest of the week,” you ramble.

He lets out a small chuckle, a faint sparkle returning to his eyes. “Do I seem like one to fold under bribery?”

Hearing his banter, some relief washes over you- and then you remember. He's also good at pushing aside his needs for you.

You sigh, and try to swallow the lingering guilt. “Xavier... I'm just trying to help. I'll be with you all the way to the clinic- until we're home.”

He blinks, noticing the slight strain in your voice. “If it eases your mind- I'll take your offer. I'll be fine as long as you're with me.”

Later that night, he doesn't just accept your offer- he makes sure he eliminates any shred of doubt and guilt on your mind, with tender kisses and soft touches, letting you know he’s safe, and everything will be fine.

_____

ZAYNE

Zayne is already assessing his own injury when you spot it- a precise slash along his forearm, glowing faintly with residual energy. His expression doesn’t change. 

"Fascinating," he mutters, probing the edges. "Your blade interacts uniquely with the dermis."

You rush over to his side. "I didn’t mean to-"

"Focus and assist me." He instructs, his tone clipped. “Undo my necktie and just press it onto the wound-”

When you hesitate, his gaze softens- just slightly. "It’s not fatal. Though," he adds dryly, "if you’re feeling concerned, know that this hurts less than losing control over my own Evol.”

Your expression crumples. “Zayne, that hardly-”

“I will also appreciate the distraction of you undoing my tie,” he adds with a wry smile.

You force your trembling hands to work quickly, bringing the fabric to his wound. “Let's head to Akso just to get it checked out-”

Zayne shakes his head, already heading away from the clearing- bringing you along, your hand still clasped over the fabric on his wound. “I have enough first aid supplies at home.”

“Surely the doctors and nurses at Akso will do a much better job than me-”

He glances at you, “Consider it a chance to learn, in case of future emergencies,” 

You feel your heart clench. His comment is practical as always, but hardly easing your worry.

“I don’t want any future emergencies,” you say softly.

“It is always best to be prepared.” From his tone, you can tell he isn’t arguing with you. Simply stating the cold, hard facts and making a clinical judgement.

You know that you're speaking to Dr. Zayne, and whether it is the wish to get him back to the warmth and safety of home, or the understanding that this is Zayne in survival mode- you let him be.

The ride home is silent, for the most part. Just you glancing at Zayne at every red light, and him reminding you not to go over the speed limit too much.

Once you're seated next to him around the dining table, he guides you through the steps of first aid and wound dressing- it's nothing you haven't come across in your first aid training, but in your current state, none of that knowledge would be retrieved if it weren't for him.

When the wound is all bandaged and he is leaning against pillows in bed, you curl up next to him. 

“I'm sorry, Zayne.”

“Mm? I thought I told you not to apologise,” he says, shifting his weight as if he wants to hold you close. You gingerly move aside and walk to the other side of the bed, away from his injury.

Once you're settled next to him again, you hug his uninjured arm close. “Yeah- I just wanted to say it properly.”

“Do you feel better, now that you've said it?”

The question catches you off guard, and you frown in thought.

“...sort of,” you say, unsure of what to do with the guilt lingering in your heart.

“I'm not upset, nor do I feel the need to blame you. So don't drag yourself through hardship,” He presses a quick kiss to the top of your head. 

“In case you need a token of forgiveness on my behalf,” He explains.

Warmth blooms in your chest- and you return his kiss, a chaste one on his cheek. 

“Payment for the token.”

_____

RAFAYEL 

The fragments of the wanderer disperses around you in a flurry of particles, the harsh sounds from battle fading into a sudden, haunting serenity. Rafayel gasps the second he notices the gash on his thigh, a faint silver glow lingering. 

"Oh no! My leg!” He collapses dramatically against you, bringing you two crashing onto the grass.

You panic- until you see the grin tugging at his lips. You narrow your eyes at him when it clicks - he shielded you to break the fall onto the grass as well, his muscle coordination impeccable as ever.

“Let me assess the injury, Rafayel,” you say with a sigh, sitting up.

“How will I ever dance at the gala now?" He frets.

You look at his injury. It does look like it warrants a dramatic response, a new diagonal slit in his dress pants, skin broken underneath. 

"Unless…" He bats his lashes. "My hero carries me?"  

You shove him. 

He laughs, catching your hand. "Hey! Be nice to the wounded soldier!”

“...Does it hurt a lot?” You ask, gently skimming your fingers around the torn fabric, aware of how he flinches when your fingers are near the wound.

“Kinda,” he says, voice quieter now.

A pang of hurt ripples through you. Of course he tries to hide it with theatrics. “Alright. I'll carry you,”

Not that you really could make it all the way back to the car bearing his full weight.

“Awww, Miss Bodyguard,” he coos, nuzzling against you. “You can help me walk, and I'll make it there juuust fine,”

His voice drops. "Though next time, maybe aim for the ugly brute instead of the artist, hm?"  

_____

CALEB 

Caleb doesn’t even acknowledge the wound until you point it out- a slash across his ribs, pulsing faintly with silver. He blinks. 

"Huh. That’s new."

It's you, you did this.

There's a tingling numbness in your hands, and your knees go weak. You force yourself to take a few more steps towards him as apologies tumble from your lips. 

He just grins, but you notice it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Relax. I’ve had worse from training."

You inspect the wound, noting the cleanly torn fabric and his injury- not deep, but hardly just a scratch.

“Don't say that- it's- we need to clean your wound-”

Your trembling hands are covered by his. “Pips, hey. Look at me. It's an injury, but I'm okay,”

“But- I did this to you,” you say, voice cracking.

"Aw, pips.” He tugs you closer, holding you firmly in his arms. It's comforting, familiar and grounding - but it does little to ease your mind.

“No, wait- you'll irritate the wound like this,” you say, trying to step back and finding his arms locked tightly around you.

“If you reeeally wanna make it up to me… You can help me dress the wound when we're home.”

“And I need to get you the ointment to counteract the claymore's effects-”

“Well, I got plenty of first aid supplies from the Fleet. They have a bit of everything for anything. You can help me test out the antidote,”

If you saw the mischief in his eyes, you would've told you the testing won’t involve much of a test.

When you're home, you find that his test is more of him dragging out instructions and praises with barely-concealed heat in his purple eyes, voice low and rough, and you putting the ointment on with a blush dusting your cheeks.

Once you're done, you reach for the tissue box and wipe the excess ointment off your fingers. 

“Does it still hurt?” you ask, voice breathier than you intended.

“I'm fine because you're here,”

With that, he pulls you in- sealing his lips over yours with a fervour that tells you he's definitely going to be alright.

Opposite scenario here!

[darkmatilda]

𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriend decides he’s going to start calling you a cute pet name, but the problem is, none of them seem to suit you perfectly

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: glasses reid x baumember!female reader, so sweet you'll puke, case in the background, unsub is abducting elderly people, text messages, reader is kinda clingy, use of y/n because i had to

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @trulymadlydarling <33 sorry if it ended up a bit too long again, but im starting to suspect that im physically incapable of writing a drabble lmao

"I'm tired. When will this week be over?"

"It's 9:13 on Monday."

With a groan, you leaned back against the seat in the corner of the jet, feeling the caffeine craving slowly take control of your body. 

"Just the thought of going to sleep sends intense shivers through me, caused by a heart-wrenching longing, and heavy tears slowly start gathering in my eyes," you complained, resting your head to the side.

Slightly turned, so you could look at Spencer sitting right next to you. His eyes, behind his glasses, also seemed a little tired, though he didn't manifest it as loudly. When you sat down next to him, he partially closed the book he was reading and rested it against the edge of the table in front of him.

"When you're sleep-deprived, you tend to get a bit dramatic," he pointed out in an analyzing tone, though you could catch a slight twitch at the corners of his lips.

"It's not drama, silly. It's the personification of pure exhaustion speaking through my lips."

"I love it when you try to argue with me and end up agreeing with me."

"You just love being right, don't you, smarty?" you huffed. "You love me too, but that's just a side note."

"Oh, now you're teasing. That's good. Means the sleepiness is wearing off," he diagnosed.

Sometimes you were genuinely amazed by how well he knew you, despite being together for such a short time—though maybe you shouldn’t have been. He was a profiler, just like you. Both of you were exceptionally good at reading each other, picking up on moods and small, everyday habits. You used to worry a little that this might make your relationship boring, stripped of surprises. But you quickly realized there’s nothing more captivating than another mind that matches your own and deeply understands its struggles. And sometimes, that feeling itself was a pleasant surprise.

"Next weekend, we're not going anywhere, okay?" you asked in a dreamy tone. The day before, you’d gotten back way too late, which was mostly to blame for your sleepiness. "Not even out of bed."

A look crossed Reid's face, somewhere between eagerness and a grimace.

"I’d love to," he assured with a genuine sigh, but then quickly added, "But I’m afraid I’ve already got something planned."

You tried to keep up the facade of your role, not showing too much excitement. You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"I'm starting to suspect you have plans for every weekend for the rest of our lives."

"Actually, just for the next fourteen weeks," he admitted with a slight shrug, as if it wasn’t anything to be impressed by.

You weren’t sure if he was joking, and you didn’t get the chance to find out.

"Hey, lovebirds," Morgan called from the other end of the jet, where the whole team was gathered around a small table, ready to start discussing the case. "We're waiting for you."

For a while, you kept it a secret from them that you were starting to expect, but eventually, you had to come clean. Especially when Penelope, who knew everything, started taking every chance to send you suggestive glances or drop not-so-subtle comments. The rest of the team’s reaction wasn’t particularly emotional. They didn’t start screaming in surprise or jumping up and down in disbelief. They were profilers—they had figured it out. But they had enough decency to wait until you told them yourselves. No hard feelings, sweet Penelope.

You took the empty seat next to Gideon, right across from your boss and JJ. Reid settled into a chair on the side, where Morgan immediately poked him with his elbow.

"So, how’s it going in love land today?" Morgan asked, smirking. "Are puppies falling from the sky, and is it going to rain hearts this afternoon?"

You’d gotten so used to these kinds of jabs that, in perfect sync, you both rolled your eyes and opened your mouths to defend yourselves. It wasn’t like you two were constantly all lovey-dovey, exchanging kisses and holding hands at every chance! Morgan just loved to tease you, knowing how much it irked both of you when someone accused you of being unprofessional.

“Take it easy, it’s just the honeymoon phase," Gideon warned, not even looking at you as he adjusted his small square glasses, focusing instead on the folder in front of him. "You grow out of it."

On the laptop screen, Garcia’s face appeared, complete with an orange rose headband in her blonde hair.

"Well, hello there, babygirl," Derek greeted her, a small smile spreading across his lips.

"Hello, you charming, sweet, handsome thing…

Hotch exchanged a knowing look with Gideon.

“As you can see, not always," he muttered under his breath so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. JJ, sitting shoulder to shoulder with him, briefly lowered her amused gaze, trying to hold back a smile. "Shall we get started?"

The atmosphere shifted instantly, as if with the snap of fingers, when you began discussing the case. This time, it was a series of murders targeting men around the age of seventy-four.

"Are we sure this is the work of a serial killer?" Derek asked, his earlier light tone replaced with focus and seriousness. "I mean, looking at it, these guys don’t have much in common aside from their age."

“They’re all from the same area,” you noted, flipping through the victims' files. “But yeah, they don’t have much else in common. Different jobs, some married, some not…you think age is the reason the unsub picked them?”

“Looks that way,” Hotch said.

“About two weeks ago, his granddaughter reported him missing,” JJ informed you, pointing to a photo of an older man. “Ben Murphy, seventy-six years old. He’s from the same area, and all signs point to him being the unsub’s next victim. Each of the victims was held for an estimated three weeks, so there’s a good… a good chance he’s still alive.”

A brief silence settled over the room, heavy with the pressure of time.

“But why keep them alive for that long?” Spencer muttered, his brow furrowed in thought. “None of the bodies show signs of physical torture. They were killed with a lethal dose of insulin. If he chose that method, it doesn’t seem like he wanted to hurt them directly. The motive…the motive is unclear.”

The rest of the discussion revolved around trying to find connections and similarities to other crimes you were all familiar with, but you didn’t come up with anything groundbreaking that would significantly push the investigation forward. However, this didn’t stress you. You were just heading to the place where everything had taken place; you hadn't yet spoken to the victims' families, which often turned out to be crucial.

Just before the jet landed, you found yourself next to Reid, resting your elbow on his shoulder like it was some kind of convenient armrest while you pondered which card to discard from the ones laid out by JJ. This position made it much easier for him to sneak peeks at your cards, which he took full advantage of whenever he thought you weren’t looking (you were looking), so you had to hold them in a very awkward way to prevent him from seeing.

“C’mon,” JJ urged, as the time you were taking to think started to drag on.

You bit your lip.

“Easy for you to say. You’re winning,” you huffed, to which she flashed you a confident smile. “Great minds need time to come up with a solution. Right, Spence?”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, shaking his head slightly.

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes…”

"Ugh, I wanted you to defend me, you silly..."

“Guys, do you know what I’ve been thinking?” Morgan appeared above you, pulling his headphones off his head.

“Scientists haven’t figured out a way to peek into other people’s thoughts yet,” Reid answered him, staring at the card you had just discarded and raising an eyebrow. Seriously? You shrugged. You knew it was a pitifully bad move. “So no, we don’t, Morgan.”

“I went over the case files again…” Derek continued, completely ignoring the ironic comment from his friend. “Mr. Murphy went missing right after a date with his wife…”

“...And may I ask why you’re sharing this incredibly sad fact with us?” you interjected.

“They went to the botanical garden,” Derek continued.  Everyone stopped, staring at him with completely baffled expressions. “Then they hit up the American Revolution Museum. And I couldn’t help but think of you two. Sounds like the perfect date for you, right?”

You were the first to react, rolling your eyes dramatically. You placed your cards face down in front of you, then rested both hands on Reid's shoulder, leaning your chin on them. You let out a long sigh.

"Can we get just one day without fighting off the nerd allegations?"

"Hey, I'm not mocking you," Morgan said, raising both hands in the air. "Just pointing it out. So, what did you two get up to over the weekend?"

Reid turned his face slightly toward you, exchanging a look. Given how you were positioned, the frame of his glasses lightly brushed your forehead. Well, if you answered your teammate's question honestly, you’d be proving him absolutely right. Before you could manage to turn the question back on him, you were preempted.

"We went up to the hill to try and watch the meteor shower," Reid answered, sticking to the truth. Morgan tilted his head, staring at both of you with interest. "But the sky ended up being too cloudy, so we ended up finding a night exhibit at the museum about space..."

You could see the victorious expression slowly spreading across Derek's face.

"You’re sinking us, silly," you muttered into your boyfriend's arm.

"She's right, silly," Morgan echoed the nickname with exaggerated emphasis. "Anyway, I won’t bother you any longer. Enjoy your game. Oh, and by the way, JJ peeked at your cards when you weren’t looking…"

 "JJ!"

 "That’s a lie—"

"Did he really come over here just to compare us to a pair of retirees?" Reid wondered, watching Derek walk away.

"And to expose a cheater," you added, shooting a look at your friend across the table. You’d lifted your chin from Reid’s shoulder, but your hand still rested there, your fingertips lightly brushing against him—not that you even noticed. Did that even count as touching?

You pointed at JJ with determination. "We’re starting over."

"We’re about to land," she noted, placing her cards on the table and revealing her hand. "So I’ll let it go. But you’re getting your rematch, trust me."

 "Oh, I can’t wait."

She walked off, leaving the two of you alone in the corner of the jet. You noticed Reid had been watching you for a while, his expression unreadable. When you finally caught on and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, he just shrugged and gathered the cards from the table. His fingers shuffled them with effortless precision, the motion smooth and almost hypnotic.

You shook your head, tearing your gaze away from the cards and focusing on his face again.

“What thoughts are you hiding in that brilliant mind of yours, smarty?”

“Those exactly,” he replied almost immediately. He fell silent for a moment as he tucked the cards back into the box. You watched him closely, curiosity piqued, waiting to hear what he’d say next because you didn’t fully understand his response.

“You always call me something,” he added after a pause. “You know…”

“Pet name,” you supplied the term he was missing.

He nodded, and you stayed quiet for a brief moment, wondering if you really used them that often. You’d never given it much thought—they just slipped out naturally when you were teasing him. He’d never reacted to them before, and it had never even crossed your mind that it might cause him any discomfort.

Your expression grew a bit more serious as you shifted in your seat to face him directly.

“Does…does it bother you? Because, you know, if it does…”

“No!” he denied quickly, a faint hint of embarrassment flashing across his face, as if wondering whether he’d been too eager. He shifted into a calmer expression, letting out a small sigh. “No, that’s really not it. Actually…I like them. I like when you use them.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as he admitted it. But the question still lingered in your mind—if that wasn’t it, then what was?

"I just realized…" he continued slowly, with a hint of hesitation. You noticed that both of you had lowered your voices compared to the lively chatter during the card game. It was as if, unintentionally, you'd created a small bubble, separating this moment from the rest of the team.

You liked his whisper. Sometimes, it felt stronger than his regular voice, mostly because whenever he lowered it, it was usually tied to some genuine emotion.

"That I never use them myself. I mean, I don’t call you anything other than your name."

"I don’t…I don’t expect that from you."

"I know. I know, it’s not like I thought you were expecting it. I just started wondering if maybe you'd like me to... to start doing it too. I admit, it’s not something I’m used to—"

"If you’re comfortable with it," you interrupted him without meaning to, feeling the need to emphasize it. Until now, it hadn’t mattered how he addressed you; it didn’t bother you when it was just your name. After all, hey, it’s not really the most important thing in a relationship. But when he suggested it, you felt a flutter of excitement in your stomach. "I’m serious, Spence. Don’t force yourself if it feels unnatural," you added, slowing down a bit, feeling the slight tremor in the corner of your lips. You noticed how his brow furrowed slightly when he caught that movement. Usually, it meant there was an idea forming in your head, and this time, it was no different. "But if you really want to…you should know I have some requirements in this area."

"Requirements?" he repeated, sounding confused, as if he thought he misheard. "Sorry, but what kind of requirements could you possibly have when it comes to pet names?"

“Oh, you have no idea how many,” you scoffed, leaning slightly toward him with a mischievous gleam in your eye. Reid blinked, clearly both curious and a bit apprehensive. “I know you, your mind... so I guess you shouldn’t be surprised that I’m expecting you to be creative. I mean no babe. No honey. 

Spencer stared at you for a moment, a look of disbelief crossing his face, before he let out a soft laugh.

"Alright, I’ve got it. No babe, no honey. Anything else to add to your list of demands?"

"Hmm, let me think," you murmured, to which he rolled his eyes. You didn't actually have anything else in mind; you just wanted to keep him in that state of uncertainty. But then, an additional thought occurred to you. "Oh, I know. It has to really fit with me. And with you. I want using it to come as naturally to you as possible. And I don't want you complaining to Penelope later, saying I forced you into it."

"Seriously, do you think I'd complain about you to Penelope behind your back?" he asked, pretending to be offended. He shook his head as if disappointed. "It's obvious I go straight to Morgan with stuff like this..."

You lightly tapped his arm.

"Is everything clear?" you made sure to ask, keeping your hand on his shoulder.

He glanced at your hand briefly before nodding.

"As clear as the sun. Has to be original and fit," he recited the two demands in their briefest form. He left his mouth slightly open, as if he wanted to add something, as if he was about to come up with the perfect nickname, but clearly, he hadn’t thought of one yet. He let out a short sigh of surrender. "This...this might take a while."

"Take your time, babe."

"Hey, you said we're not using that..."

"I only said you’re not using that”

"So what’s the point of giving me all these demands when..."

You both fell silent only when the jet neared its landing.

*

Working on the case had put a bit of distance between you. Well, it wasn’t unusual—there were often plenty of witnesses to interview, multiple locations to visit or search, and the team simply had to split up. Whenever Hotch assigned you somewhere, he always paired you up in the most complementary way possible, ensuring that your skills and experience balanced each other out. As the youngest members, relying more on brains than brawn, you and Reid rarely ended up partnered together.

And this time was no different.

You sat in the front seat of the car beside Gideon, who was driving. The two of you were headed to one of the victims' homes in silence, and you used the moment to glance at your phone—only to spot a message from none other than Reid.

spence: I’ve been thinking about what we talked about on the jet, and I think I have a few suggestions that meet all of your conditions.

spence: Sorry for texting, but I’m not sure if we’ll get a chance to see each other today, and I wanted to tell you that.

y/n: tell me

y/n: i mean u should be thinking about the case rn not about me

y/n: but i’m just gonna assume ur brain is multitasking enough to do both

spence: Because it is.

y/n: wow so humble

y/n: so???

y/n: what’s with the pet names

y/n: surprise me, genius

spence: Sorry, I don’t have time to write proper explanations for all of them or explain why I think they suit you.

spence: But a few of them are love, dear, darling.

y/n: sweet, but kinda basic

y/n: anyway up to you

y/n: u’ll be the one saying them

spence: Yeah, but you’ll be the one called them, and it has to be something you like. What do you think?

spence: Maybe something less typical like pumpkin

y/n: pumpkin HAHAHA

spence: ?

y/n: sry, i just can’t picture u saying that out loud

y/n: u browsing some top 100 pet names for ur gf site rn?

spence: No

y/n: i’m telling garcia to check ur browsing history, silly

y/n: don’t even delete it she’ll find it anyway

spence: I admit, pumpkin is awful

spence: I really like daisy, but i know you're allergic to pollen

y/n: how do u know i’m allergic to pollen?

spence: 👍🏼

It was truly an exhausting yet enlightening response. Anyway, you didn’t dwell on it too much. Sometimes he just knew. Together with Gideon, you had already arrived at the right address, so you shoved your phone back into your pocket and got ready to get back to work.

*

The words we are ready to deliver the profile were a milestone in every case you worked on.

They marked a gathering of the entire team, where you would collectively organize the information you had gathered during the investigation. Together, you had managed to uncover the unsub’s identity, but there was still the task of determining their motive and locating where they might be holding their still, as you hoped, victim. 

"The unsub spent most of his life caring for his severely ill, mentally abusive grandfather, of whom he was the only relative, which is why he now targets victims of a similar age," Derek began, crossing his arms over his chest. "He holds them for twenty-three days, mirroring the twenty-three years he dedicated to caring for him."

"He sees it as lost time, wasted. He never finished school, he was socially withdrawn. By repeating the same pattern with his victims, he believes he's getting something back," explained Reid, standing beside you, tapping one hand thoughtfully.

"This is all we have,” you muttered under your breath. ‘But we're missing the most important thing. Where is he? Where is he holding this man?”

“Garcia is working on that,” Hotch reassured you, pressing his finger to the earpiece.

“Give... give me some time,” Penelope asked in a distant tone, drowned out by the sound of keys being pressed rapidly. “ I think I have something... I need to check...ugh, fifteen minutes!”

After those words, she fell silent, leaving you all in anticipation. With a sigh, you crossed your arms over your chest, hoping she would find something. Reid stood by your side, slightly separated from the rest. Yet when he spoke, he lowered his voice to a murmur.

You stepped closer to hear him better.

"Vivi," he said softly.

You frowned at him, and his gaze hesitantly met yours—but once it did, it refused to let go.

"From the Latin vivus," he explained. "Full of life, vibrant."

You remained silent for a moment, savoring the echo his words left behind and the look on his face—just a hint of uncertainty creeping in as he waited for your reaction. If it weren’t for the fact that your team members were bustling around and the circumstances weren’t exactly romantic, you might have slipped under his arm. Instead, you settled for a small, sweet smile.

"That’s really pretty, Spence," you admitted, catching the faint shimmer in his dark eyes. "You think it suits me? Do you like it?"

He nodded slowly. You couldn't shake the feeling that something didn’t quite fit, that it didn’t sound natural coming from him. Maybe it was just your imagination? Or perhaps he was distracted, lost in more important thoughts while you were bothering him with pet names? You didn’t really have time to figure that out. At that moment, Garcia’s raised voice cut through the line, announcing that she might know where the unsub is holding his victim.

In the next moment, you were already on your way to the given address, listening to instructions on how to get inside without causing harm to the elderly man being held captive. When you and Reid reached him, he was loosely tied to a chair with rope, his head hanging limp against his chest. You crouched beside him, checking his pulse. It seemed like a simple loss of consciousness, likely caused by the stress and exhaustion of being held captive for over two weeks.

"Untie him," you said automatically to Reid, even though he had already started doing it before you spoke. "Can you hear me, sir? Damn it, I think we’ll need an ambulance..."

"Since when do angels curse?" A hoarse, weak whisper escaped the man's throat.

You exchanged confused glances with Spencer, momentarily frozen in place. The man's temples twitched before he gently lifted his head. His gaze landed on your face, and very slowly, he began to regain full consciousness.

"I died. And you're an angel, right?" he asked.

You sighed with a certain sense of relief. He was a bit delirious, but it seemed nothing serious was wrong with him.

"Don't worry, you’re not dead, sir. Actually, you’re perfectly fine and will be home soon..."

"Whatever you say, angel."

You saw Reid, who was untying the man, try to hide a amused expression on his face. Even after two weeks spent in captivity, Mr. Murphy managed to muster a bit of stubbornness. He told the arriving paramedics that he would only get into the ambulance if the angel who freed him went with him. And since you felt really sorry for the elderly man who had been kidnapped and whose mind was a bit frail, you did it.

You didn’t get back on the jet until late at night. Throwing yourself into the seat next to Spencer, you struggled to suppress another yawn. You didn’t even realize when your temple lightly rested against his arm, but through your partially closed eyelids, you noticed him closing the book he had been reading and placing it in his lap.

"Long day, huh, angel?" he asked. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, brushing your ears as you leaned against him.

"So, you spent the whole day trying to come up with the perfect pet name and ended up just going with the one some confused old guy called me?"you asked, opening your eyes and turning your head to look at him. Or rather, from the position you were in, at his jaw. "Watch out, Spencer Reid. I might accuse you of being lazy."

"I'm not lazy," he denied. "I'm just looking for inspiration in unusual places. Besides, it fits, don't you think? Angel."

"Mhm. Lazy."

With those words, you closed your eyes again, snuggling against him more comfortably. Spencer shifted slightly in his seat, using his free hand to tuck the hair falling onto your face behind your ear.

"Sweet dreams, angel."

[mihanisms]

another yan!caleb drabble

— back on my caleb shenanigans....i need this man so bad. also a tribute to me getting painful signal And a manifestation for me to get his myth cards infold Please Pleeeease Please

— overstimulation, mindbreak, pathetic mean switchy yandere caleb because i think he needs to apologize to us by fucking both his and our brains out. very obsessive / hate-fucky undertones and BREEDING KINK! MENTIONS OF PREGNANCY AND BABY TRAPPING! you have been warned...also this is kind of monologuey from his perspective? idk my brain just shit this out

You were mad at Caleb. You were mad at Caleb. You were mad at-

Fuck, you couldn't even pretend that you had any remaining hostility for him when he was fucking your brains out just right, whimpering out your name like a prayer. "'M sorry for leaving you, princess, I- fuck wouldn't have 'f I didn't need to-" He buries his face into your shoulder, muffling the slew of curses spilling from his mouth, lost in the feeling of your cunt squeezing him just right.

You had lost the amount of time the two of you had been at this, your mind hardwired to the feeling of his cock pounding you, the sloppy sounds of skin slapping against skin and your moans mingling together being the only thing filling up the room.

Suddenly, Caleb's hands move to your thighs, folding you in a mating press and it only felt better, like he was hitting the deepest parts of you now. You could only moan louder and claw at his back, eyes rolling back as your legs shake in his grip. He lets out a soft whine, his mind turning to mush at the vice grip of your pussy. "Princess, god you feel so good, you're taking me just right-" His thrusts only grow more vigorous, wanting to map out every inch of you and ingrain it into his brain.

Your mind felt like it was spinning from the amount of pleasure you were receiving, from Caleb's cock repeatedly drilling into you and the rapid, short gasps of air he was taking. "You think- you think you can take one more f'me, baby?" You could only muster up a quick nod, but that doesn't satisfy him. Letting one of your legs go, he slows down his thrusts and tilts up your head, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Use your words, princess. can you take one more for me?"

It takes a while for you to gather the mushed-up words in your head and force them out of your mouth, but you manage a shaky "M-Mm, I can- I can take one more f'you, Caleb. Pl-ease just one moaaah-!"

Whatever you were about to say gets cut off by your boyfriend resuming his harsh thrusts, his hand moving down from your face to press on the slight bulge now peeking from your stomach. "Good, you can take it..." At this point, his eyes were wild with hunger, greedily drinking in each and every one of your reactions - the tears pricking at your eyes, the drool leaking from the side of your mouth, all of it he committed to memory. This was all because of him. The sight drives him to the brink, his hips moving faster and faster as he loses himself in the feeling of you, everything that was welling up inside him threatening to spill over - both figuratively and literally.

Caleb was panting like a dog in heat with every move he made, his desperation of wanting to fuck you mirroring your desperation to get fucked. You, you, you, you. More, more, more, more. He wanted more, he wanted to consume you, to envelop your very being with his own so that he was the only person you could see, touch, and talk to. You two would never have to be separated again, not by his will or anyone else's.

With every gasp for breath that you took, Caleb's desire to have you intensified, his obsessiveness spilling out of his mouth without a second thought - you were too fucked out to understand anything he was saying, anyways.

"Fuck princess, you reaaaally like getting fucked like this, dont'ya? Getting used like a dirty fuckin' slut, my dirty fuckin' slut? Think i'm gonna get you all nice and filled up, keep you here with me hm? You'd be a good mother i just know it-" The thought of mini you's and him's running around had his eyes rolling back, his legs quivering and his balls tightening up in preparation for his release.

"I really think- I really think this one'll be it, princess. You finally won't be able to leave me, not when you've been stuffed full of my cum and babies, and fuck- Everyone'll just have to accept that i'm yours and you're mine, and nothing-" Caleb's mind is fuzzy, lost in his fantasies as he drills into you, right on the precipice of ruin, "nothing will ever come between us again."

In your state of mind, you were able to make out nothing but the mix of roughness and possessiveness in his voice, yet you were still able to sense the overflowing love he had for you, no matter what it was that he was saying. Already way past your limit, his cock bullying your abused hole leads you to orgasm one last time, a pathetic mewl leaving you as your body spasms and your juices flow down onto him.

The pitiful sound that comes from you and the way your body shakes underneath his was caleb's last straw, his cock spurting out ropes of cum into your waiting pussy. He's left panting and grunting, eyes transfixed on the way your cum had mixed together. "You look so...so pretty like this, princess..." He then collapses on top of you, the hours of sex taking its toll on him as he grinds into you a few more times before going limp, his chest rising up and down rapidly with yours as he tries to catch his breath - and you, your consciousness.

With the remaining strength he had, he manages to move you both to the cleaner side of the bed, pulling out his softening cock from your sopping hole. He leaves a tender kiss on one of the many marks he had left throughout the night, but not before gently prying your legs apart to clean up any remaining cum you had on your legs and pushing it back into you. He couldn't forget what he had just promised you, now could he?

Satisfied with his work and feeling lulled by your soft, shaky breaths, Caleb decides that any further aftercare would be given once the both of you had recharged, his arms that were previously just used to hold you down now wrapping around your body as he slots himself right behind you, joining you in comfortable, well-earned sleep.

a/n: i hope this was a coherent fic, lowkey I wrote this gone as fuck at 3 in the morning so I'm sorry if it's a bit janky

[rinnstars]

special!

how he changes because of love

bllk boys (nagi, rin, otoya) x reader: fluff, drabbles, not proofread + likes and reblogs r appreciated <3

nagi seishiro

to everyone else, nagi is lazy to his very core — seen by his constant napping during class or being piggy backed by his own teammates (reo) and doing the bare minimum all whilst beating everyone else.

yet with you, he’s the opposite of lazy with you.

nagi wakes up early for you to meet you on time at your bus stop that he almost every morning runs to in a hurry with his uniform wrinkled and in a mess that he lets you spoil him by tidying it for him, letting his eyes wander at your focused ones and relaxing at your soft and warm touch in contrast to his cold ones. and nagi is the opposite of his usual self when he goes the extra mile — only writing notes for you during class when you’re beside him too busy falling asleep as his hands moves faster as though he’s playing his games on the paper to capture all the information on the board as the teacher wipes it off, only buying food for you and bringing right to your table in contrast to his usual self who has his food placed in front of him who already finds merely chewing a pain, only carrying your bag as you two walk home, not minding the extra weight on his back when its for you. after all, if it’s for you, he thinks its worth it: anything’s worth to see your beaming face that practically shines with the way the sun shines on your face as though youre an angel, anything’s worth to be able to be by your side who to him is practically an angel in disguise with the way you make his heart flutter and his face warm that to him is no longer a hassle especially when your eyes are simply drawn to him as though a magnetic, anything’s worth to see your eyes brighten when he does those little things that seems so uncharacteristic to everyone else. but you know better he thinks, he’s only like this with you.

and its even more obvious when nagi truly brings out his ‘genius’ for you — when he does his 200% and pulls out all his best moves that he had half-assed all these times when he sees you watching him play football against other school, his motivation linked to your attention and eyes fixated on the way he moves as though playing only for you, when he’s so focused in finishing a game for you or even playing a game to carry you, with his eyes practically firing up with hypothetical fire burning up, so focused his veins on his hands pops a little and his lips slightly bleeding from how hard he was biting it, only to immediately turn puppy like when he turns to you to look for your validation once he’s all done, when he sits up all straight when he patiently and gently tutors you for homework as though he’s ever bothered to do any of those and not simply wing it. nagi doesn’t really think its cool, its just a part of him, barely acknowledging people’s ossips about his talents: bringing his volleyball team to the nationals (little do you know he simply joined because you and him liked a certain volleyball anime and watched it together), acing all the exams despite practically being asleep in most of the classes (he’s really not asleep, simply looking at you as he lies his head on his table and looking at you through drooping eyelids and secretly admiring you as you focus in class). and perhaps he does all things for one reason: nagi loves you and wants you to give the attention and validation he craves: eating up your each and every praise that sounds so right with your sugary sweet voice that gets his adreadline pumping as though ready to finish another game, eating up your reactions from your wide eyes and ‘o’ shaped lips to him flexing his talents in contrast to his sloth like being majority of the time, and most importantly eating up the way you look at him as though he’s your entire world.

itoshi rin

to everyone else, rin is completely and entirely consumed and fixated on football: evident from how his every action revolves around his passion from his football books that he reads solely to analyse techniques underneath his desk during class, from how he skips his school club to go to his out-of-school football training team a hour away from school in a bus that comes every thirty minutes, and.. from the way he’s strangely always around you..?

not to say other’s analysis seems to be wrong: rin’s nothing less than passionate about football, but he thinks he can be his raw self with you and let you mold him to whatever you want if it means to see your smile: only evident in yours and his stash of polaroids photos.

polaroids featuring rin’s face plastered with colourful stickers of stars, hearts, emojis and disney princesses as he uncharacteristically smiles as though he was a little kid with a bright beam and crescent shaped eyes with flash on that he’s sure his classmate or his teammates wont even recognise in contrast to his usual fixed grimace on his face, one that makes him smile especially when he remembers your giggles as you paste it on his face: remembering your soft and gentle touch that touches both his skin and his heart too and the way you stick your tongue too when youre all focused that makes his heart flutter and stomach filled with butterflies. polaroids that featured both you and him secretly in his wallet that he can’t help but be magnetised to and look at before every of his game for motivation and even kiss it for good luck where you and him have stupid and silly hair clips clipped onto both your hairs that you both clipped onto each other on his bed, room that was always silent now lively and filled with yours and his chatter and giggles as you both acted like little kids again that makes him wish he didn’t have to ever grow and stay right here with you forever, beaming at the camera as you press your lips on his cheeks that practically leaves a mark on his heart. polaroid that was secretly downloaded by him to become his wallpaper of you and him on his bed sitting down together, for the first time taking the lead and using your polaroid that he’s paid for and taking a picture of you and him from the stupid 0.5 angle you always do of him and laugh at, capturing a silly picture of you and him to brighten his day and for him to not go homesick when he leaves you for a few months, yours and his forehead hilariously big that he can’t help but let out a ugly laugh, letting his hand wrap around your frame as you two laugh at the picture.

and rin’s sure if they look a little closer, perhaps they would see the truth without those polaroids — with the way his lips moves upwards whenever youre with him and his eyes soften when it drifts to you in contrast to his usual frown fixated on his pretty face, with the way his voice seemingly becomes softer as he replies to you in contrast to how he practically ignores his classmates and teammates words, letting them drift out of his ears immediately, with the way he goes above and beyond all whilst still trying to put up the nonchalant facade they all fell for: the way his face flushes pink whenever you linger a little too close even though you’ve been together for oh so long yet you still make him want to lie down in his bed and yell against his pillow and kick his feet like a teenage girl in love, the way his usual glare melt so obviously when his eyes lands on you whether your hands or your eyes like youre his very entire world, and even the way he seems like a puppy if you look hard enough whenever he walks home with you, hands tugging at yours, head on your shoulder, holding yours and his bag even despite hours of football practice.

otoya eita

in contrast to his very very infamous reputation: a player, a jerk, simply “dating” to have fun — its a cycle that otoya has lived by through his school life, reputation stained by upset exes that throw paint against his at first pristine reputation: liking someone’s cute face or personality, going with them for one or two dates before losing interest and becoming bored and restart the cycle.

and yet, there’s something about you that’s simply so magnetic that he thinks you, along with football, could be the constant in his life for once in his life.

a routine: its not something otoya is used to, but with you, he feels oh so at ease. he finds routine as something exciting now: walking with you to the convenience store after school for lunch and getting a new snack each and every time with you whilst enjoying your voice that he thinks he can never grow tired off with each and every of your movement in your pitch and octave as you ramble away that makes him still smile unconsciously, waiting for you outside of class as he plays a game of finding you with your class position always switching, smiling unconsciously when he sees you whether you are focused in class, playing games underneath your table or even doodling in your notebook, going out with you during the weekends and practically remaking memories in the different places he liked and eventually grew tired of — from the old arcade that he used to go as a kid that now is practically abandoned that you and him hung out, drinking soda and laughing before running away together, from the secret corner in the school library he used to attempt to focus and do homework and doing yours and his assignment together where he finds out that rather than getting distracted by the new influx of people, he’s getting distracted by how you look so adorable as you write another essay with the way you bite your lips as you focus of course only until you flick his forehead for not focusing, to even a small shop by his neighbourhood and enjoying his favourite childhood snack that he thinks taste even sweeter now that youre next to him that he eventually grew tired of after eating ten of it once when he was five. you make all things he’s grown tired of new again: his old earphones he left in the corner of his desk at the excitement from obtaining a new headphone he now use in order to share music with you on the bus as your head lies on his shoulder as the music blasts in both your ears that makes his heart flush at the thought of you and him sharing the same song (he thinks he’s becoming oh so sappy in contrast to who he used to be), his rainbow beads that he collected as a kid before abandoning it in his house storeroom he made bracelets with you in his bedroom as you two made matching bracelets that he has never removed from his wrist since you put it right on him, and even his childhood favourite fried rice that he ate too much of and despite learning how to cook it never cooked it again until you came by his house for the first time and tried it with him wanting to oh so desperately to impress you, tasting even more addicting with you sharing his now new favourite food with him.

he thinks he’s changed now that he’s with you: a constant in his ever changing orbit. and just like football, otoya dedicates a part of his life to you, falling into a habit with you: in the same way he practices football every afternoon everyday in a fixed time frame in order to keep constant. otoya reaches yours and his bus stop at 7am every single day, he kisses your cheeks the second he sees you reach the bus stop, boarding the bus and sitting at the very same duo seat or standing at a specific seat every single time, sitting at one specific table or a specific spot of the field area every lunch period. and he feels the same feeling too whenever he sees you: his heart fluttering as his face flushes oh so subtly, his stomach filled with butterflies that makes him all giddy and nervous and excited, how he feels as though he’s straight up in a shoujo romance manga as the protagonist as you practically sweep him off his own feet just with your presence alone. and when you walk home with him, every single day, he prays to whatever god out there to thank them for letting him be the one to hold your hand — for giving him one more constant in his life that thankfully looks at him back and not curse him instead from his previous love failures.

[lemonlover1110]

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Megumi receives a lot of gifts from Santa.

Warnings: Fluff

*Merry Christmas my loves, and happy holidays🫶 got a new game so don't expect a lot from me. also don't read too much into this, just enjoy the drabble!

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Christmas morning, the most exciting morning of the year. Little Megumi is too excited to see what Santa has left for him under the Christmas tree. His birthday just passed, but that day isn’t as exciting as Christmas morning. One present is nothing compared to a mountain of gifts.

“Santa came!” Megumi barges into your bedroom, waking you and Toji first thing in the morning. Toji complains, mad that his slumber is interrupted for nothing. You, on the other hand, are as excited as Megumi. You can’t wait to see his reaction to the gifts that Santa brought for him. 

You drag Toji out in your matching pajamas, while the man complains about being exhausted. He had to keep an eye on Megumi last night, he wanted to make sure that the child wasn’t trying to catch Santa Claus at the wrong moment. 

“Can’t he wait a minute?” Toji complains, but neither of you listen to the old man. The exhaustion quickly goes away when he sees all the gifts under the tree– That’s all his money. But he won’t jump to conclusions yet… Maybe it’s just some cheap gifts, nothing to worry about.

You two take a seat on the couch as Megumi runs to get his gifts.

“What does that read, Megumi?” You ask him before Megumi tears the wrapping paper to shreds. 

“To Megumi, from mom and dad.” Megumi reads, and Toji’s eyebrows perk up. Megumi opens the gift to find a jacket, nothing too fun for the little guy who tosses it to the side.

“Hey! Let me see that!” Toji yells, and Megumi pouts as he grabs the jacket and hands it back to his father. Toji snatches it out of the child’s hands, telling him, “You could be a little more grateful.”

“Thank you.” Megumi dryly responds, as Toji reads the brand of the jacket. Like hell the gift was from the two of you, Toji is just seeing this exists.

“Expensive brand.” Toji’s eyes narrow before looking at you. You kiss his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder, a trick that always works to help him calm down.

“He’ll wear it a lot.” You respond, and Toji sighs. He guesses you’re right. Toji just hopes that not everything under that tree is as expensive.

“Santa got me a Nintendo Switch!” Megumi exclaims not even a minute later, and Toji’s hand goes over his heart. Oh, this is it. This is what’ll kill him.

“Santa?” Toji responds, slowly turning his head to look at you. You’re smirking, guilty as charged. To add more salt to the wound, Megumi yells,

“And some games!”

Toji had nearly forgotten that he hated this holiday– By the time he’ll financially recover, Christmas will roll around again.

[levandright]

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 ‹𝟹

their favorite way to show their love for you is through — physical touchꜝꜝ

if you enjoyed reading this consider leaving a like or reblog ᐢ..ᐢ

pairing ⋆ ot7 enhypen x gn reader! ʬʬ content / warning(s) ⋆ fluff, est relationship ꕀ word count : 1082 ʬʬ go back to the start? ・ archive

ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : i had a lot of fun making this! the whole wyll drabble is my advanced celebration for (almost) 50 followers!! hope you guys like this <3

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

heesung loves to hold your waist. his hands will somehow always find a way there. but can you blame him? his hands fit perfectly around your waist, like pieces of a puzzle.

after a long day, your feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. heesung notices your quiet sighs and the way your shoulders seem to carry a little extra weight.

as you both stand in the hallway, he gently pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you snugly against him.

you relax into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder as he whispers softly, “i’m here, okay? you don’t have to go through this alone.”

his hands rest lightly but securely on your waist, grounding you. in that moment, his steady warmth eases your worries, and you feel safe, surrounded by his love and support.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

jay loves random touches, like brushing a stray hair away from your face or letting his hands linger on your cheek for a moment. these little actions convey so much affection and intimacy that words can't replicate.

you're sitting together in a sunlit park, surrounded by the gentle sounds of nature. as you share stories and laughter, you suddenly become quiet, lost in thought.

sensing your shift in mood, jay turns to you with a concerned look. instead of asking directly, he reaches over and lightly places his hand on yours, his thumb stroking your knuckles softly.

the warmth of his touch pulls you back from your thoughts, and you meet his eyes. in that simple gesture, he conveys his support and understanding without needing to say anything.

you squeeze his hand in response, a silent acknowledgment of your connection, feeling comforted by his presence and the care behind his touch.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

jake loves to carry you. he finds the little noise you make when he picks you up to be absolutely adorable, so any chance he gets, he’ll try to lift you off your feet without warning just to hear your surprised reaction.

you’re walking home together after a movie, laughing and talking, when suddenly, it starts pouring rain.

without an umbrella, you both start to run, but you slip on a puddle and stumble.

jake quickly catches you, grinning, and before you can protest, he sweeps you up into his arms to keep your feet out of the water.

you laugh, playfully telling him to put you down, but jake just smiles and says, “not a chance—i’ve got you now.”

you wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you through the rain, both of you laughing as the world blurs around you.

in his arms, you feel like the only thing that matters, and he’s happy to keep you safe and close, rain and all.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

sunghoon loves to pat your head. he thinks it’s the perfect balance of playful and intimate, and what more could he want than that?

you were trying your hand at making a new dessert—a mousse cake. the recipe called for eggs, sugar, all-purpose flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, and salt for the cake part.

you checked your ingredients and realized you were missing just the flour. you looked everywhere around the kitchen for it, but no luck you couldn’t find it.

the last place you didn't check was the high cabinets, and you couldn’t reach there—unless you wanted to climb onto the kitchen counter. you just cleaned it so doing that was a big no. so, you had to get help from sunghoon.

"hoon!" you called for your boyfriend, then you hear his familliar footsteps echo around your shared apartment.

"what does my little lady need from me this time?" he teases.

"can you reach the flour for me, please?" he grins at your request.

"why, of course~ anything for my lovely lady." he reached the container of flour with ease, and hands it over to you.

"thank you, hoon."

"anything for you," he says with a gentle smile, lifting his hand to your head and gently patting your hair.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

sunoo loves to cuddle you! just lying in bed cuddling is the perfect way to spend your morning with him.

it's the weekend again, you spent all night watching movies with sunoo. your little movie night ended up going untill 3 am.

you peacefully sleeping until the light coming from your windows end up waking you. you let out a sound of complain as you groggly open your eyes and move your arms to cover your face.

your sudden movement ended up waking your sleeping boyfriend.

"mhm, what're you doing?" sunoo's morning voice greeted you.

"the light from the windows woke me up," you mutter sleepily.

"come closer and get back to sleep."

you scoot closer to him, and sunoo wraps his arms around you, moving your head closer to his chest.

"now go back to sleep, i don't wanna get up yet."

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

jungwon loves to hold your hand! when you're on dates, he always make sure he's holding your hand while you both walk to your destination. even when you're both doing nothing in particular — just idling by on the couch or laying in bed together — his hands will always be intertwined with yours.

you and jungwon are laying on a couch in comfortable silence with hands intertwined. you're on your phone, scrolling through the internet, when you see something that reminds you of your cat-like boyfriend.

"jungwon, look!" you say excitedly, showing him a picture of a cute pair of kittens.

"they're adorable," he says smiling, rubbing the thumb of his on the back of yours.

"they are! reminds me of you," you say with a grin. "mhmm, we do look pretty similar"

"i'm cuter, though," he smirks.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

riki loves to kiss your face. whether it's a quick peck on your forehead while you're tired or a light kiss on your cheeks when you aren't paying attention to him, he absolutely adores smothering your face with kisses.

you're busy looking around the snack aisle of the conveniece store, with riki behind you, pouting as he watches you ignore him— all your attention taken by the assortment of chips.

as you reach out to grab the bbq-flavored chips, you feel something soft make contact with your cheeks.

you turn to face your boyfriend, who looks at you with a cocky smile.

"can't have you ignoring me for some chips, can i?"

you roll your eyes playfully at his words. "well, now you have all my attention."

"as it should be," he says confidently.

taglist. @honeychocos

©levandright

[niwaart]

I know, I just know in my heart that in "Family Without Light" (from the newest chapter), batmom reader stares longingly when there's a baby, and when she gets to hold one, her eyes just light up and the scene just looks like it's meant to be. That she stares into the innocent eyes of a baby and she imagines of what could have been if she had her own blood child, if they had her laugh, if they would hate eating vegetables, if they called out to her or bruce in the middle of the night when they had a nightmare, if they would draw on the walls, if they would get along with their older siblings...but...then the ache in her heart pangs, reminding her that it could never be.

That her children, the ones she raised as her own did this to her, to be so cruel as to take the years away from her, to take her love, to take her affection, to take and take and take, until they took the one thing she wanted most, and gave her nothing, nothing but disdain, pain, heartache, rejection, and apathy.

Oh, so cruel is the world to the kindest beings, that when they disappear, you are reminded that they were a blessing upon our lives.

anyways if you could make a drabble, I want batmom reader to adopt a newborn who was abandoned because she feels like they are kindred souls who were treated unkindly and she swears that that child will only know love and affection their whole life, literally the embodiment of "you may not came from my belly, but you came from my heart" kinda situation 😭

anyways, thank you for listening to my TedTalk, great story, please keep tagging me for it 🫶🏻

Thank you so much🤍🤍🤍!! I loved it! And i almost crying... but your idea is great! I mean let's think about it

- After much thought, Y/N decided to adopt a child because Bruce was the one who brought the children, and she didn't have the opportunity to choose or adopt a young child of her own. She wanted a young child, to whom she could give lots of love, and she would choose to foster a young child, yes, a young child who was almost one year old.

- She will raise them with all love and devotion, she will spend all her time with them and will never leave them. There is nothing more beautiful than having a little child who depends on you and calls you “mama” with all love, and begins to take their first steps with you.

- Y/N's reaction when the baby was called "mama" was to cry, it was a word she always wanted to hear, she would hug her baby and cry and the baby would cry with her.

- With the baby's first step, Y/N will document the moment. She will prepare perhaps ten cameras to film all angles, place a pillow in every corner, and start cheering for the baby to reach her. She will hug them as soon as they are about to fall and laugh with them.

- When they grows up to be two years old, Y/N will throw the biggest party humanity has ever seen. Even Bruce didn't celebrate his sons like this. And guess who will be there? Her ex-husband Bruce and his kids. Why? Because she is proud of her grown child and she will show the world how proud she is to be a mother to the child.

- Of course her ex-husband's children will be in a miserable state. Bruce will act the playful, uninterested boy but will still stare, needless to say he wants to get close to her and the baby but can't. Dick will congratulate Y/N and the baby but he won't be able to take it so he will start crying as soon as he sees the cake, the baby's smile and Y/N's tight grip around the baby. He can't take it anymore, he will apologize and look for a secluded corner to cry. Tim will keep looking at the ground, unable to raise his eyes, unable to even look at the baby. He will walk over to her and the baby and keep his gaze down while congratulating the baby and wishing them a long and happy life, but suddenly he feels a small hand touch his cheek. He looks up to see the baby smiling at him and when he turns to Y/N, she is smiling back. Needless to say, he lowers his head again to hide his tears and disappears with Dick into the secluded corner. Damian would be angry, with a big frown, but he was forced to say happy birthday to the baby, so his steps would be slow and heavy as he walked to her and the baby. He would congratulate the baby in a low voice, just like he was trained at home. He would have left if Y/N hadn't patted him on the head. This was the last straw. He had been angry at the baby who stole his mother all day, and the pat was enough to make Damian crack inside and hug Y/N, crying with his face buried in her dress. Y/N would hug him and keep him by her side throughout the party, holding his hand while he hid behind her in embarrassment, but he wouldn't complain. Jason, who hadn't entered yet, would still stand in front of the house, wondering whether to put the gift with the message and leave, or would that be rude so he should go in and deliver it himself? He would keep thinking until suddenly he saw Y/N coming out of the house, which made him panic and look around to try to hide, but he froze in place when she called him, and discovered that Damian had told her about him. He'll try to start a conversation but Y/N hugs him and says "Thanks for coming" and the next thing that happens is Jason crying on Y/N's shoulder and muttering unintelligible apologies. He doesn't remember what happened next but he remembers her touch as she brings him inside with everyone else. He remembers the little baby and how Y/N made him carry the baby, and how he was so scared because of the baby's small size and how after Dick finished crying, he and Tim decided to play with the baby. And Damian whispering Arabic words to the baby like "Protect mother" and "You better make mother happy." And Bruce will just watch his sons' expressions one by one, and he will keep writing down his regrets every night so he doesn't forget the pain he caused his children and Y/N.