#anyways here's your silly little drabble

[robyn-i-guess]

“It’s your turn to make dinner.” with Gerry & Michael Distortion

"I am not cooking tonight."

Gerry huffs and collapses onto his couch.

"What a greeting," Michael responds, its voice annoyingly cheerful as it always seemed to be. The door that was not there before removes itself, leaving just Michael, Gerry, and the dizzying feeling Michael tends to emit.

"Seriously though," he responds, "I couldn't. I'll burn the place down."

"Oh, don't doubt your talent!" It smiles. "I bet you'll make it combust!"

Gerry sighs of exhaustion, grabbing the cheap slushy that he had gotten in his way back from the Institute.

"Why don't you get that – what do you call it? Where the little people bring you your dinner?" Michael sits on the other side of the couch from Gerry, causing a headache to form as its presence usually does.

"Doordash? No, nothings open. It's 1am, Michael."

"I'm open!"

Gerry chokes on his drink. "You're fucking what?"

"I can deliver you the food!" It smiled like it had no clue what it just said. Did it know? Gerry didn't have the energy to pinpoint that.

"From where? Everything is closed."

"The kitchen!" The smile twists in a weird way. Is it meant to be excitement? Does Michael feel excitement? Too many questions lay unanswered.

"Fine, whatever. It's your turn to cook then. Go ham." Gerry pulls a throw blanket over him, trying his hardest to push away the growing migraine was threatening tonight's sleep. The buzzing in his head (that he didn't realize was there) disappears, a sign of Michael leaving his side.

5 minutes later comes a smell from the small kitchen that can only be described as painfully sour candy.

The next minute it's warm both in scent and temperature. Gerry questions just for a moment in his sleep riddled mind of the house is on fire, before remembering fire alarms exist. Michael could turn them off, but it wouldn't. He thinks.

Then there's sizzling, maybe popping, maybe boiling. The sound is hard to pinpoint, but it's certainly a cooking sound.

Then 30 minutes of silence. Nothing. Gerry knows Michael isn't gone because he can feel it look at him. Was it even 30 minutes?Maybe that's all it was doing. Maybe the exhaustion was getting to him.

On his shoulder came a gentle tap with what felt like a knife. If not for the jacket be wore, it might've cut or punctured the skin. Gerry pulls the blanket off and in front of him is – as he expected – Michael, with its usual shit eating grin.

"Wakey wakey!" It squeaks, holding a plate that curved weirdly into a bowl that Gerry knew he didn't own, but he does now, he supposes.

In it is certainly... food. It is like if an artificial intelligence was told to create what it thought food was; sure, it resembles something edible, but what it was couldn't be pinpointed. Are those noodles? Is that sauce or the color of something cooked? What plant is that? The answer is none of the above, it is not anything, it's simply food.

It tasted like ramen.

Apparently, Michael just had fun with instant ramen.

Whatever keeps it entertained.

[lordsukunas]

piggyback rides

synop: you want trueform!sukuna to give you a piggyback ride and he doesn’t know what it is. that’s it.

tags: fluffy fluff fluff, fem!reader (referred as woman once, refers to self as ‘queen’ and ‘wife’ once), ooc sukuna (only bc he’s less of an asshole), possessive behavior (kind of?), mentions of sukuna-typical violence, likely historically inaccurate, not proofread. i couldn’t determine whether or not he was actually wearing a haori or something similar - correct me if i’m wrong n i’ll change it!

notes: basic ass title ik... erm sorry! another post in two days is a miracle so i’m a little proud of myself. half-assed ending lol... anyway, this is just a silly lil drabble!! any interaction is much appreciated, enjoyyyy! :3

“what.”

the first set of crimson eyes dart down to look at you, the other set still tracking the scuttling servants. you’re situated quite snugly in his expansive lap — two thick arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of his bare chest. “what the hell is that?”

you nibble the inside of your cheek to suppress a smirk. finally, you know something that sukuna does not! and it only took three years. “it’s where i get on your back and you carry me around. quite simple, truthfully.”

he snorts at the slight condescension in your voice. for something so agitating, you have quite the ego. “mm. and why should i do that for you? you can walk on your own, unless your legs are mysteriously broken all of a sudden.”

“because,” you say with a huff, “it’s fun. don’t you want to bond with your queen?”

anxious eyes of passing maids sneak glances at you, your little huff drawing their attention. sukuna shifts you in his lap, turning you to the side, and the massive sleeve of his robe moves to obscure your form from their undeserving gaze. “we have bonded enough.”

“and it would not hurt to bond some more!” you counter. sukuna’s stubbornness is something you absolutely adore about him, but not right now. “can the mighty king of curses not spare a moment of his day to entertain his wife’s wish?”

he falls silent at this, and you can practically see the gears churning in his big head. he’ll cave. if there’s one thing that’s undeniable about the sorcerer, it’s his curiosity.

“... fine,” he grunts. after scooping you up and setting you down, he stands up and gestures with his hand. “so how do we do it?”

your lips curve up into a smirk. “okay, turn around so that your back is facing me.”

sukuna turns around, folding one pair of arms over his chest.

“then, crouch down a little.”

a beat passes, and then he crouches down, back muscles flexing underneath the dark fabric of his haori.

you step up behind him and slide your arms around his neck. his adam’s apple bobs, and the other arms move to cradle your butt. “if this is an attempt to choke me, it isn’t work.”

he always thinks someone’s out to get him. you roll your eyes. “no. if i wanted to kill you, i likely would’ve attempted forever ago.” you lift your lower half onto the lower part of his back, and your legs wrap around his hips.

another beat passes. “is that it?”

“yep.”

sukuna adjusts you, his hold on you becoming more secure as he rights himself to his full height. the warmth of your breath ghosts across his ear, and he can smell the scented lotion you applied this morning.

why hadn’t he done this before?

“soooooo,” you drawl, and he can hear the smile in your beautiful voice without even having to look. you’re so close — he hears the little inhale before you speak, the nearly imperceptible huff of laughter once you finish. “what are you just standing here for? we gotta walk around, explore the estate! it’s not fun if we’re just stuck in one place.”

“i am not a servant,” he warns, voice gruff, but he starts to move towards the throne room’s exit anyway. anyone unfortunate enough bows, mutters a jumbled greeting to the both of you, and scrambles out of the way.

it’s no secret that sukuna is more... benevolent, when you’re around. but that is a double-edged sword — if someone dares to disturb your peace or inconvenience you in his presence, they’d be facing a swift death, along with their parents for giving birth to such vermin.

“apologies, my spectacular husband.” you lean forward a bit and press a kiss onto his cheek, leaving a faint lipstick stain. “now, please, venture forth.”

he rolls his eyes. “if you command me again, woman, i am going to sprint.”

the teasing lilt quickly disappears from your voice, and your arms tighten around his neck. “n-no, that isn’t necessary.”

sukuna’s pace increases, now a brisk jog instead of a leisure walk, and you can hear the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “oh? is it not?”

“it isn’t!” you squeak. a little embarrassing, yes, but you know how fast sukuna is — you’re positive that if he broke out into a full-speed run, you’d be sick by the end of it.

“let’s find out and see.”

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Male Harem of Bullies

Kinktober Day 9: Bullies/Gang Bang

Four Male Animal-Human Hybrid Yanderes x Feminized Male Ferret-Hybrid Reader CW: Noncon, ass eaten like it's groceries, bullying, fivesome, gang bang, double penetration, triple penetration, more double penetration, forced feminization, crossdressing, kidnapping, non-human genitalia, massive horse dick, colossal rhino cock, slimy reptilian dicks, rhino-man, horse-man, lizard-man, bull-man, male harem, oral sex, anal sex, bottom reader, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Slightly different from my initial vision but much better imho, made to be expanded on with drabbles involving each man, possibly multiple drabbles with each exploring different situations.)

Baryn the Bully. A brash, arrogant, cocky, oversexed rhino hybrid jock who thought more with his dick than his brain. He was the star of the college's football team, so of course, he was extremely popular.

You were the complete opposite. A small, intelligent, and soft spoken male ferret hybrid. A total nerd. Always kept your head down, and often between the pages of a book.

While he was a bit rude to the other geeks, he reserved his worst behavior for you. Trapping you in your locker, pantsing you, making fun of you.

There wasn't any recourse. There was no way the college was going to punish their most talented football player. And you weren't made of money, you couldn't just transfer to another school.

And you didn't want to leave anyway! Why should you? You liked your classes, you had friends in your dorm, and you only lived one town away from family. You could handle a little bullying if it meant keeping all those perks. Not to mention the campus library. It was colossal. And where you spent the vast majority of your spare time.

That's where you were on the night of the big football game, in the library studying with your friend, and roommate, Nat. With the vast majority of students preparing to watch the game with their friends from their dorms or attend live, the library was nearly empty.

"I have to use the restroom, I'll be right back."

Nat made a sound of acknowledgment as he continued his studies.

On your way out of the restroom, you smacked right into Baryn. A wall of thick grey muscle. What the hell was he doing in the library at all, let alone before a big game? You flicked your tail nervously as he smirked at you wickedly. You only saw that expression on him before he bullied you in some way. You noticed he was carrying a large gym bag.

"Just who I was looking for!"

Baryn gave you no time to complain as he quickly stuffed you into the duffel bag and left. It stank heavily of the rhino's heady musk, the smell making you quite a bit dizzy. You had no idea where he was taking you. Despite your shouts and thrashing, no one stopped to help. Either they were too scared of the big rhino-man, or they recognized him and figured it was just a silly jock or frat prank.

And you had thought it was some fucked up joke too. Maybe he was going to keep you in this bag during the game or put you in a locker, but it was far worse than that.

You felt the bag being set down gently. It was opened soon after that. You immediately leapt out, claws at the ready. You scratched and bit at Baryn's tough skin. You didn't even register that he was naked. He chuckled as the most you managed to do was cause a stray trickle of blood here and there.

"Love it when ya start throwin' a hissy fit."

He smacked your ass playfully before  he started removing your clothing. By then, tears were running down your face as you cried in frustration.

"F-fuck off! Give me m-my clothes!"

He sat on the sofa and pulled you into his lap. A strong hand was over your mouth, and he held you close, forcing you to lean back into his chest. He nuzzled your neck, careful not to poke you with the horn that tipped his nose.

"Just relax, darlin." You're gonna help me and the bros with a lil' pre-game tradition we have."

He took his free hand and fondled your cock and balls.

"We always have a good fuck before a big game! The gals we normally use weren't available for the job. It's super easy, y'all ain't even gotta do any work. Just be a good fleshlight for us."

At that, you thrashed and let out muffled screams, you didn't want this fucker's dick in you. Just then, the door burst open, and the other top three football players who were members of Baryn's frat barged in.

Mikael, the part horse hybrid. He was really tall but still pretty muscular. His ears and tail were the only visible horse traits, but there were rumors his dick was horse-like, too.

Alvaro, the lizard hybrid. He was a bit short but extremely strong. Eyes like a snake, with scales framing his face and covering his arms, legs, and tail.

The final one inside was Krash, at least that's what everyone called him. He was a bull man. He was as tall and muscled as Baryn, but fur covered his entire body with the exception of his face. He was also equipped with two large curved horns.

All of your bullies were assembled to make your life worse.

"Yo, you already started without us?" Inquired Alvaro.

"Nah, I was just explaining the job to our new girlfriend. About how she just has to stay still and let it happen. I hadn't gotten to the part about how we decided that she would be our girlfriend permanently, though," explained Baryn.

You were trembling. The way that they were staring at you. The way they were talking. They were insane.

Mikael leaned down and licked up your tears before chuckling.

"Aww, don't be scared. We won't hurt you, cutie. You're lucky. We all wanted to share a girlfriend for our pre-game tradition, and we all had a crush on you! Don't you feel lucky?" he said in a mocking tone.

"Course we're all bi, but kinda prefer women. More acceptable for my family, too. So we've decided that you're a lady now. And none of us gentlemen would bully a lady, so if you cooperate, we'll treat ya a lot better," the rhino cooed into your ear while rubbing your thighs.

"N-no! Just let me go! You aren't treating me b-better, j-just trading one torture for a-a-another!!" You began sobbing and shaking inconsolably.

Not to worry though, you're four new boyfriends knew just how to cheer up their little lady friend. You were clearly just moody and upset by a lack of proper attention. You obviously needed their seed in your belly.

Krash wordlessly kneeled between your legs and held your legs still with his strong hands. He used his broad tongue to apply thick drool to your hole, slipping it into you and massaging it as well as he could. You had to be as stretched, lubed, and relaxed as possible if you were going to take all of them.

You twitched and shuddered as the unwelcome intrusion made your cock stand up.

"Pl-please sto-," you whined pitifully before being cut off by Mikael.

"Stop? You clearly like it!" He leaned over Krash and rubbed a finger up and down your cock to tease you.

Baryn bit and sucked on your neck before you could reply, causing your mind to go a bit blank with how good it felt in conjunction with Krash's sloppy tongue tending to your ass.

"I think that means she's ready," someone chuckled. You couldn't tell who, though. Your brain was soup. It must have been Baryn because he was the first to slip his cock into you once Krash stopped licking.

It must have been more rhino like than human because the ridges and folds made you drool when you felt them slowly move back and forth against your inner walls. While Baryn continued fucking into you slowly Krash decided to suck on your leaking dick.

"Damn, she really does like it," Alvaro mused as you bucked instinctively into Krash's warm, inviting mouth.

You moaned as you came and then relaxed quite a bit. Since you were so well stretched and much more compliant now, Krash got up and positioned himself in front of you and slipped his dick in beside Baryn's. The stretch was uncomfortable but not painful. They were careful to go at a slow pace that their previously virgin girlfriend could handle.

Krash didn't last too terribly long. He had forgotten to jerk off several times so that he could last a long time like the others had told him to. With a grunt, he emptied his large furry nuts into you, then pulled out and let Alvaro take his place.

Alvaro, being reptilian, had two hard cocks ready to sink into you. And he did so eagerly. Both of them were slimy and tapered and had no issue fitting into you, especially with Krash's cum having lubed you up so well. He went at a faster pace than Krash had or Baryn was.

Luckily, you were ready by that point. Baryn matches his pace since you were taking them so well. Both men whispered praises into your ear since you were taking them all just so perfectly. Alvaro claimed your mouth with his and snaked his long tongue into your mouth.

Your whole body shuddered around their dicks as you came again, this time from their cocks battering a special spot inside of you.

"So sex hungry, this one. Can't wait for my turn."

Mikael didn't have a long wait. Baryn and Alvaro finally unloaded into you simultaneously, a vast torrent of cum that started to bulge out your belly.

"Fuck, you're the best hole I've ever had!"

Alvaro pulled out after making sure he finished loading you with his semen.

"Yeah, darlin' we're gonna have to do this a lot."

With a loud squelch, Baryn lifted you up and swapped places with Mikael, who quickly settled you on his dick. The flared tip went in easily with how "well-loved" your hole was from your other three boyfriends. He had you facing him so he could kiss your fucked out face.

Your stare was blank, your face flushed, and the only sounds you could make was feeble mewling as hid large equine prick made an outline in your belly. He pressed your face into his armpit so that you could get a nose full of his pheromone laden musk. He needed you to reek of him.

After that, the horse hybrid bit at your neck, all while he pounded into you tirelessly. When he eventually came, it made your belly bulge further. When he pulled out an incredible amount of cum dribbled down his cock and onto his balls.

You were tired but remained conscious, your brain struggling to comprehend the violation that just occurred. Your body was limp. At least it made you easy to clean up.

"Girls just need dick to calm them down, I guess," mumbled Arvalo.

"Well, I reckon we know what to do when she gets bratty," Baryn replied.

They took you gently and cleaned you up in the tub, all of them praising you for doing so well. Once they had you clean, they dressed up in a cheerleader outfit. It was the cutest thing they had ever seen. It had been a wise decision to bribe your roommate Nat to get your measurements for them while you slept. You were embarrassed but didn't complain. You knew it wouldn't do any good. The will to fight had been thoroughly fucked out of you.

They each scented you and your clothing to make sure their combined smell clung to you. No one would dare touch their precious nerdy girlfriend.

When it was time for the game, they had you sit beside the benched players, right between some players they trusted. You looked down awkwardly the majority of the time with your tail curled closely around you. They won that game by a wider margin than they had won any game before! They chalked it up to their newly enhanced tradition of bedding you combined with your presence at the game.

It was certainly something they'd have to do every single time!

[hatethysinner]

more on remmick missing those big leaps, i feel like newer vampires have to adjust to being able to do that -- but Remmick never does and every so often some poor person just hears him thunk into the roof or something. like its all quiet and then just THUNK followed by '...sHIT-'

ꜱʜɪᴛ!

ᴡᴄ: 1.5k

ᴀ/ɴ: i could not stop thinking about this idea when you sent in the first ask and with this follow up the inspiration hit me like a truck. i really do need to write short drabbles more often. enjoy! i don't do taglists personally, so just follow me if you want to be updated when i post c:

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: established relationship, amateur knowledge of wound care, silly pathetic!remmick fluff

The crash woke you before the curse did.

THUD.

Then,

“Shit!”

The sound cracked through the stillness like a hammer to glass. You shot upright in bed, breath catching for a moment as your eyes struggled to adjust to the dark. The house held its breath right alongside you, everything gone perfectly still except for the quiet whispers of wind against the house and the dull hum of cicadas outside, sawing their endless song like nothing had happened at all.

But you knew better.

Of course you did.

You pressed a palm to your face, dragging it down slow, already sighing before your feet hit the floor. “Lord have mercy.”

This man.

It was always the same with him. Always.

“I’ll be out runnin’ a few errands,” he’d say, voice warm and sweet. Every time.

And every time you’d nod, pretending like you didn’t know exactly what that meant. You never asked. Didn’t need to. He made sure you didn’t have to.

He never brought it home.

Whatever mess he made out there in the dark stayed out there. Always returned just before dawn with nothing but a smudge of dirt at his collar and something soft in his hand for you. A little gift, a peace offering. Sometimes a trinket that caught the morning light just right, sometimes a necklace you swore was far too fine for anyone around here to afford, sometimes a bouquet of flowers he claimed he found by chance. Always accompanied by that same crooked smile that made you forgive him before he even asked.

But tonight?

Tonight, it seemed, grace failed him.

You pulled your robe around your shoulders, padding barefoot through the house, careful not to catch your toes on the edge of the carpet as you crossed to the front door. The boards creaked beneath you. Soft, old, familiar. The kind of house that remembered every step.

Another grunt floated in through the open window. Closer this time. Lower. A shuffle of limbs, a low, winded groan that had you squinting into the dark beyond the porch light.

Then came the creak of the porch swing.

You stopped beneath the doorway for a breath, listening, waiting, watching.

And finally, there he was, dragging himself around the corner into view. Like a man who didn’t quite know how to admit he needed help but couldn’t help crawling toward you anyway.

Remmick was flat on his back in the dirt.

The porch light glimmered faintly above, flickering once before settling again, casting him in thin, uneven stripes of amber. His shirt was ripped at the shoulder, collar pulled wide, fabric soaked through with sweat, or maybe water, you couldn’t quite tell from here. His hair was a wild mess, tangled and sticking to his temple like he’d been caught in a storm, though the air was clear.

One shoe had slid halfway down his foot, heel caught in the dirt. The other leg lay bent at an awkward angle, as if his body couldn’t quite agree where to land after the fall. He looked more thrown than dropped, like the world had spat him out.

And there he was, blinking up at you.

His gaze met yours like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Wide, sheepish, and entirely too aware of how foolish he looked. The flush in his face wasn't from embarrassment though. No, you knew that look, it was the adrenaline still burning off him in waves.

And yet, even sprawled out in the dirt like that, there was something about him. The faint pulse of red still flickering behind the familiar blue of his eyes, just enough to catch the light when he shifted. The hint of fang still peeking past the corner of his lip when his mouth parted, like it always did when he was too tired to fully pull himself together.

The gold chain at his throat. Your favorite one, the one that always seemed to gleam like it belonged to a man far cleaner than he ever was, glinted faintly. A soft flash beneath the ruined collar of his shirt. You caught yourself staring at it before you realized.

“…Hey, sugar,” he wheezed, voice thin but trying its best to sound casual.

You stared at him for a long, unimpressed beat. Your arms crossed without you meaning them to, feet planted firm on the cool wooden porch. The breeze tugged at your nightgown, making the thin cotton ripple gently at your calves. Fireflies drifted lazily at the edge of the treeline. Their glow blinked soft in the dark, careless, like this was just another quiet night.

“You good?” you asked, flat.

He gave a single, shallow nod. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Landed wrong.”

“You landed on the roof.”

He winced a little, shifting his weight as he tried to sit up straighter, one hand gripping at his ribs. “Little miscalculation.”

“You’ve been doin’ those jumps for how long now?”

“Don’t-” He held up one bloodied hand like a white flag, wincing as he flexed his wrist. His voice thinned into something sharp and frayed. “Don’t rub it in.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling the scolding sit heavy behind your teeth, but kept it balanced. No use piling on while he still looked like the ground might swallow him if he moved too fast. Your eyes swept him again, quick and clinical. Shoulder likely dislocated, ribs bruised at best, knee scraped up, knuckles torn raw. His chest rose and fell too shallow for your liking. But he was breathing. Awake. Speaking.

And, miraculously, grinning.

You exhaled long. “Lord, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

His grin wobbled but stayed. “Not if I can help it.”

Another sigh pulled itself from your chest. You turned on your heel and stepped back inside, the screen door creaking as it swung open behind you. “Come on. Before you bleed out in my yard.”

Behind you, the porch groaned under his weight as he hauled himself upright, muttering curses beneath his breath while he staggered after you like a man determined to pretend everything was fine. The sound of his shoes scraping along the floorboards made you wince. Dirt and dead leaves trailed behind him across your clean kitchen floor, earning a disappointed huff.

You reached under the kitchen counter and pulled out the first aid kit. The one that now had a permanent home there ever since Remmick came barreling into your life. Needle. Thread. Antiseptic. Cloths. The glass jar of salve he swore didn’t sting as bad, even though it did.

Everything laid out like ritual. Like routine.

He eased himself onto the wooden stool near the window with a hiss, one hand braced against the edge of the table, the other still clutching at his side. You could see how tight his jaw was, how carefully he was trying to hide the pain behind that lopsided grin. Stubborn as could be.

“You are a fool,” you muttered under your breath as you uncapped the antiseptic.

“But I’m your fool.”

You shot him a sideways glance at that, unable to help the small twitch that pulled at the corner of your mouth. “That you are.”

The house was quiet as you worked. The kind of quiet only broken by the scrape of glass bottles against the table and his quiet, occasional sharp inhales when the alcohol hit an open wound. Outside, the cicadas droned steady, the night thick with heat and the pulsing rhythm of distant frogs.

You pressed the cloth to his shoulder, dabbing gently, and he hissed between his teeth again, his fingers flexing where they gripped the edge of your skirt under the table. Just to hold you. Just to remind himself you were there.

“Next time,” you said softly, threading the needle, “use the damn door.”

He let out a low, breathy laugh. “I was tryin’ to surprise ya.”

“You surprised me plenty.”

“Ain’t mean the roof part.”

“No,” you said, lips twitching again, “I figured that much.”

You stitched him up slow, careful. The needle moved steady through his skin, your hands familiar with the task in a way that made your chest ache sometimes if you thought too hard about it. You didn’t. You couldn’t. Not when his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your knee as you worked, his eyes never once leaving your face.

It was always like this.

He’d leave, and you’d stay. He’d come back, and you’d fix him.

Again and again.

And somehow, some part of you loved him for it.

When the last stitch was tied and the bandage wrapped clean, you smoothed your hand along his jaw, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth where a smear of dried blood still clung. His eyes softened under your touch, the red dimming almost completely beneath the blue. It made him look gentler. Almost tender.

He caught your wrist and pressed a kiss to your palm, voice barely above a whisper now. “Told ya I’d always make it home.”

And even after all this, after everything, your chest still clenched at that.

Because he did. Every time.

Even if sometimes, he fell out of the sky to do it.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony drabble 1. two truths & a lie

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ drabble summary. the power goes out at gojo's house due to a storm, and he comes up with a way to pass the time in the dark. (note: for new readers, this drabble is for my long fic gojo x reader series “in holy matriphony”!! you can find the masterlist here)

ᰔ genre/tags. a little fluffy, a little sad, and a lil revealing.

ᰔ chapter. drabble #1

ᰔ words. 2.6k

a/n. hi my ihm lovelies!! welcome to this silly little drabble i wrote, i tried to keep it under 1k words i swear lol but alas i yap. much love to the anon who suggested a prompt where the power goes out at gojo’s house, i did change the prompt a little bit but i loooove this premise!! it's one of my favesss. i could picture this drabble taking place sometime when reader n gojo are pretty early on into their fake marriage arrangement and are kind of getting situated w one another! perhaps before chapter 4 or something :) hope you enjoyy. these drabbles are just for the vibes btw

nav. masterlist :: playlist

“Oh for fucks sake, please don’t tell me I didn’t charge these things,” you hear Gojo say in the pitch black darkness, along with the sound of his palm smacking against the metal of his fancy LED flashlights that he was so excited to bring out in the moment of truth against the power outtage of the storm that was pitter-pattering just outside the windows.

You’ve got your arms crossed, a frown on your face but it doesn’t matter because he can’t see it anyways, and wait impatiently for him to provide some sort of lighting inside the living room that wasn’t the dim opal of the distant streetlights blurred by the rain.

“I’m so happy I’ve found out sooner rather than later that I should not choose you as my zombie apocalypse partner,” you comment just to bruise his ego.

“What zombie apocalypse?” he asks while he shakes his flashlights as if that would magically make them work, entirely distracted by the action to the point where he sounds like he genuinely believes there’s some zombie apocalypse he wasn’t made aware of.

You roll your eyes to display your annoyance. But again, doesn’t matter, since he’s not privy to it in the dark. 

There’s a bright flash of lightning, illuminating the house briefly, where you see a snapshot of Gojo standing in front of you in his long sleeve and plaid cotton pants, the image of a man who was just seconds away from getting some shuteye before he heard you scream from the bathroom because the lights went out while you were showering. And then there’s the growl of low thunder somewhere in the distance.

You’re shivering as your still-damp hair brushes against the nape of your neck. It had barely been a week since you formally started living with Gojo in this little fake marriage arrangement, and to say it was an adjustment of different personalities was an understatement. With a heavy sigh, you take a blind step forward towards what you believe is the direction of the kitchen.

“Let’s just grab some candles—”

Unfortunately for you, the hem of your floor-length gown gets caught on the corner of the loveseat, and you’re tripping over your own feet with a small gasp leaving your lips, bracing for the impact of the floor but you feel a strong arm wrap around your waist, keeping you from—…ah, it appears you were actually about to plop headfirst onto the glass of the coffee table.

“Oh shit—” Gojo huffs, and you feel the warmth of his chest against your back as he pulls you towards him to stabilize you, and the contact makes your breath hitch. 

“S-Satoru, let go of me,” you say, scrambling in his hold like an anxiously avoidant cat.

He lets go of you, and you stand up straight and turn to face him, at least you think you’re facing him, and say with genuine curiosity, “how did you know what my exact physical coordinates were so you could grab me before I split my skull open??”

There’s a second of a pause like he’s questioning his own reflexes too. “I don’t know…I just… knew?”

You blink at him wide-eyed, and then jump a little from the loud crack of thunder that rattles the windows.

With the minimal lighting provided by Gojo’s phone screen, a commodity you both seek to preserve because he’s on 2% and your phone has long since died since it was already only on 7% before you had even hopped in the shower, you both make it to the kitchen and Gojo fishes out some wick candles in the back of his cupboards, some really waxy bright pink ones that Juno apparently made in school and then gifted to him.

“Alright, here,” he says, handing you a lighted candle placed in a candle holder, and you carefully wrap your index finger around the handle. “And can you just stay still real quick for me?”

“Huh?” you blink at him.

He lifts his phone up and snaps a photo of you with flash, then looks down at the screen with a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Sweet.” And then his smile drops. “Oh shit. Phone’s dead.”

“Satoru.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You did not just use up the battery of our last source of communication to the outside world just to take a picture.”

“But you just look so much like Ebeneezer Scrooge right now, it’s so uncanny—”

You gasp, glancing down at your attire, and then at the candle in your hand. “Give me that—” You grit through your teeth to try and grab his phone from him to delete the picture, even though you know you can’t, both because his phone’s dead but also he’s easily tall enough to hold it well out of your reach as you just hear him laugh to himself while you’re cursing out his whole ancestry in your head.

The night ticks on as you two light a few more candles to illuminate the downstairs area at least. The storm outside the windows only seems to pick up in severity, with whistling winds harassing the glass of the windows, along with the harsh downpour of rain that almost seems neverending.

“You know, we can cuddle if you’re scared,” Gojo teases as he brushes past you to grab another candle.

You roll your eyes at him, and this time he can see it. “I’m not scared of a stupid little storm, Sato—”

A loud boom of thunder reverberates before you can finish your sentence, rattling the windows and the walls, and you yelp as you jump in your skin.

You stiffly glance up at Gojo and see him with a quirked brow and a grin on his face, and you let out a puff of air in annoyance.

He walks towards you. “Just know that the offer always stands.” And then he’s shuffling his feet towards the coffee table in the living room. You watch him as he sits down criss-cross on the floor in front of it, setting down his lukewarm cup of coffee before he takes a sip from it and glances towards the window.

You sigh and make your way over there too, and sit down neatly across from him, smoothing over the fabric of your nightgown with an anxious feeling in your bones.

“So,” he says, his face warmly illuminated in shadows by the minimal candle light, “how should we pass the time?”

“I’d prefer any option that involves not having to talk to you.”

He places his palms on the floor and slides them behind him before leaning back onto them. “Charades then?”

“Oh my god, you really never get the hint, do you?”

“What hint?”

“I. Don’t. Like. You.”

“Oh come on. You don’t even know me.”

Your eyes blink wide at that. “What do you mean?”

“The reason you don’t like me is because you’ve never made an effort to get to know me, y/n.”

“I find it awfully pretentious of you to assume that I would like you just on the basis of getting ‘to know’ you better.”

He tilts his head at that. “Yeah? Isn’t that how things usually work? You know, you find out the person sitting across from you is also just as human as you are because you find out that their favorite color is mustard and that they broke a bone or two in middle school.”

“Please don’t tell me that your favorite color is mustard.”

“No, it’s green. But I did fracture my distal radius in the eight grade.” His brow furrows slightly, as if some thought passes his mind, and then he sits up straight. “I’ve got it, let’s play two truths and a lie.” He says it like he’s just discovered the solution to a problem that you didn’t even know existed.

“I haven’t played that since I was in high school.”

“Me neither," he says, “that’s what makes it fun. So much more material to cover now.”

Your lip tips upward in a small pout, and your shoulders sulk. You’re not really sure if you have that much material to cover. The past six or so years, you’ve just been spending taking care of your mom. You imagine for someone who lives a life as normal as Gojo’s, he must’ve spent the past six years collecting life experiences, or crossing things off of bucket lists. Stuff that makes for interesting conversation. You usually run a blank on stuff like that when anyone asks you, so what have you been up to since the last time I saw you?

“I’ll go first,” he offers, “alright.” He holds his thumb out of his fist, “I’ve never had braces,” he holds his index finger out, “never had a cavity,” he holds his middle finger out, “and my dentist got arrested for extortion a couple months ago.”

You blink at him. “…why are they all related to dentistry?”

“Huh?” He furrows his brow at you. “Aren’t they supposed to have a theme or something?”

“Whaaaatt?? That’s how you played growing up?”

“Yeah.”

Your interest is piqued, and you lean forward. “That’s interesting.” 

You squint your eyes at him. His teeth are too perfect to have not had braces…but also, no cavities? With the amount of sugar he eats? Bullshit…somehow his dentist getting arrested was the least surprising thing.

“I’m gonna say,” you start, “that you’ve had braces.”

He shakes his head. “Vandalism. He got arrested for vandalism.”

“No cavities?! How?!”

He shrugs. “I dunno. Just never had one.”

You sigh, and perch your elbow on the table before dropping your chin onto your palm as you look at him. 

“Alright, your turn,” he says, grabbing the handle of his coffee mug to take a sip, throughout which he doesn’t break eye contact with you.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth briefly. “Um. I’ve…never been skydiving. Keanu Reeves follows me on Twitter. And…” You think to yourself. “I’ve thought about murdering you many times.”

He pokes his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “I’m gonna hope it’s that last one.”

“I would never experience another sad emotion in my life if Keanu Reeves actually followed me on anything, so.”

“You’ve thought about murdering me?? y/n.” He deadpans your name, as if to scold.

You shrug. “You annoy me sometimes.”

“Have I always annoyed you?”

“It’s your turn, Satoru.”

He frowns, and lets out a deep exhale as he scratches the back of his neck as if he’s struggling to let the topic go, but then he sighs. “Uh.” His voice sounds deeper with a bit more of a drag. “I, uh, I once owned a pet tarantula…I’ve never gotten a speeding ticket, and…I’ve never broken a bone.”

“It’s that last one.”

“Yeah. Damn, pretty good.”

“Satoru, you literally just told me you broke your distal radius in eighth grade.”

“Did I? Oh.”

You narrow your gaze at him, and study his distant expression. He seems awfully distracted, ever since you confessed that you find him pretty annoying. And there’s a part of you that feels a little bad about it.

“Okay, my turn,” you say, and you breathe in deep, “I…was voted prom queen twice in high school. I once won a county-wide speed-reading contest. And—” You lick your lips briefly. “And you haven’t always annoyed me.”

“Okay. This time, I really hope it’s not that last one.”

You nod, a small smile on your face. “It wasn’t county-wide. It was state-wide.”

He grins, leaning forward. “That’s really cool.”

You toss your hair over your shoulder. “What can I say. One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish never stood a chance.”

He’s looking at you intently now, whereas you would’ve otherwise expected some sort of laugh from him at your faux cockiness, instead he just looks like he’s deep in thought once again. And then he’s leaning back into a neutral spine, that tongue poking to the inside of his cheek again boyishly. Cute, you think to yourself. You both were grown adults, but it felt like you were at a high school camping retreat and managed to sneak away some alone time with that boy in your grade that teases you at the top of every homeroom who you swear you despise but secretly giggle about when you’re scribbling in your diary during lunch period.

“Your turn,” you say, somewhat impatiently, because you find yourself wanting to know more. 

“Okay,” he says, “my favorite color’s mustard, I’ve got blue eyes, and you remember around the time we first met and I asked you if you wanted to come with me to that wine tasting event my brokerage firm was hosting?”

You blink at him, and slowly nod.

“Well, that was supposed to be a date,” he says, “I was asking you out.”

Your eyes grow wide, mouth slightly agape as you stare at him. 

“But, uh, I guess I should’ve been more direct, considering you brought three of our other neighbors with you.” He leans backwards onto his palms again. “I mean, of course, it was also before I knew you had a boyfriend.” He swipes the back of his hand underneath his chin. “And before I realized I probably shouldn’t be asking my neighbor out on a date in my first week of moving to a completely different state.” His shoulders drop slightly, and the flicker of the flame in between the two of you reflects off of his eyes. “But, I don’t know. I just remember thinking how interesting you were. And fun to talk to. I couldn’t help myself.” 

You feel your cheeks warm, and your heart is beating fast. So fast. Not attributed to the rain or the storm, but to the confession. And perhaps some of it was melancholy, this odd feeling that wafts through you, that wonders, how different would things be if you weren’t still with Choso when Gojo moved in next door. Or how different things would be if you were a little better at reading social cues, or not abusing the rules of a plus one to a social event. Or how different things would be if you were the happier version of yourself, a version that went extinct exactly five years ago when a small mass was found in your mother’s lungs.

You swallow hard. “You’re right,” you say, “you should’ve been more direct.” 

“You were seeing someone, y/n.” It was sound reasoning, sure. The fact that even if he had been more direct, it wouldn’t change the fact that you would’ve had to politely decline.

But your gaze shifts down towards the surface of the coffee table, to the melting candle of hot pink wax, and you repeat yourself—

“You should’ve been more direct.”

The whirring of the fridge comes to life first, then the beep of the microwave, before the entire house illuminates with light so suddenly it almost makes you jump from the shift in ambience. You look at a now fully-lit Gojo, who’s staring at you with questioning eyes, like he’s still left in the trance of the darkness from a few moments ago rather than accepting the fact that there is now light. And you clear your throat as you stand up onto your feet.

“Lovely.” You clap your hands together. “I can go back to…whatever the hell I was doing before the power went out,” you say. And whatever person you were before the power went out, too.

You shuffle your feet towards the stairs, but then Gojo says, “wait.”

“Hm?”

“So…just for my peace of mind…you don’t still think about murdering me, right?” he says.

You blink at him. “Mm. We’re done playing here, Satoru. We’ll have to save it for the next time the power goes out.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

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[end of drabble 1. ‘two truths & a lie’]

a/n. tysm for reading! and once again ty to the anon who suggested this prompt!! :'') and tysm to everyone who sent drabble prompts in they're so cute and i can't wait to write them!! i did mention this briefly but i will save some of them for later when ihm couple are officially together since i think the prompts will be super cuuuter that way lol i feel like i'm writing w my hands tied behind my back for drabbles because ihm couple aren't officially together yettt 🤣..... and i have no one to blame for that except myself 😞😞 anywho, i plan to release some more drabbles this week for ihm. i know i said i'd take a break from writing but i was just itching to write something, but i also didn't want to dive into s2 for ihm just yet because i def need a lil break from the main storyline, so i thought i'd do some drabbles. these are pretty low stakes n easy to write n i have a lot of fun w them. i remember i enjoyed writing the kickoff drabbles so i wanted to write some for ihm now that s1 is over :) i wasn't sure if my main ihm taglist wanted to be tagged in drabbles too but if you'd like to be tagged in drabbles as well feel free to comment under this post :') i'll tag you for the next ones! sm lovee <3

☾·̩͙꙳ masterlist :: playlist :: ao3 link

[sixeyesonathiel]

pt. 2 of satoru and his shikigami!reader. | soft angst | fluff | comfort | 1.7k wc. | read part 1 here!

a/n: the sillies ever. idek if this is even counts as drabble it’s too long sighs dramatically

before you, satoru didn’t laugh.

not really, anyway. maybe a smug huff when he beat a servant at go, or a snort when someone tripped over their own feet. but laughter—the real kind, the ugly, breathless, belly-aching kind—was a foreign language to him.

before you, satoru never shared his food. he didn’t talk during mealtimes. didn’t play with the other children, didn’t chase dragonflies in the garden. his eyes were always too sharp for his age, like he was seeing the world from behind glass. untouchable. too perfect, too cold. like a doll that knew it wasn’t meant to break.

and then you showed up. a wobbly thing with wide eyes and no sense of personal space. you tried to drink his miso soup once by sticking your entire face in the bowl. he nearly threw a chopstick at you. nearly.

now, a year later, he finds himself hoarding sugar plums in his sleeves to sneak to you when no one's looking.

“here,” he mumbles, eyes flicking away, shoving a sticky sweet into your palm. his ears are pink. “don’t choke.”

you beam like he’s given you the moon, your cheeks squishing upward, eyes crescents.

it’s stupid. you’re stupid. and satoru’s starting to think you’ve broken something fundamental in him.

he realizes with growing horror that he doesn’t really mind it.

there are other changes, too.

you’re speaking better now. you call him by name instead of squeaky syllables, even if it still comes out strange—“so’ru” or “toru” when you’re sleepy.

“toru, come nap,” you whine one afternoon, arms flung dramatically over your head as you flop belly-first onto the tatami. sunlight warms the floorboards, catching in the dust motes that swirl lazily in the air. outside, cicadas scream in the garden. “sun warm. futon cold. me sad.”

he groans, throwing a pillow at your face. “you’re so dramatic. i’m not napping with you.”

you blink. pause. then sit cross-legged beside him, lips pursed in deep contemplation. “me dramatic... but you dramatic-er.”

he chokes on air, snorts once, then bursts out laughing—sharp and surprised, like it caught him off guard.

“you’re a little goblin,” he wheezes, brushing his bangs back as they fall into his eyes. his smile doesn’t quite leave, not even after he composes himself. he pokes your cheek. “why frown?”

you grab his finger with both hands, holding it hostage. “’cause you no nap. nap with me.”

satoru rolls his eyes, but his shoulders relax. you both collapse onto the futon in a tangle of limbs, the late summer breeze filtering through the open shoji.

still, not everything is sweetness and rice balls.

there’s a day—one of those days—where his head aches and the clan elders have been whispering again. he’s tired of the way they speak of him like a tool, a future carved in stone. someone had said something about duty, about legacy, about how he needs to stop coddling that thing—and you tug on his sleeve.

“toru come, show you rock i find! it spark—”

“stop,” he snaps, louder than he means to. his voice cuts through the air like a blade.

your sentence falters. your hands, mid-gesture, drop to your sides.

he sees it too late—the way your shoulders hunch, the way your lips press tight.

“just—stop following me around like some stupid pet,” he mutters, eyes hard, voice brittle. “go bother someone else for once.”

you blink once. then again. your mouth opens, then closes.

then you step forward, still reaching for him.

he doesn’t think. doesn’t want to be touched. his infinity flickers on with a soft shimmer, just as your fingers stretch out.

your hand halts in the air. you stare at the invisible barrier between you, wide-eyed.

his expression twists, frustrated and defensive. “stop it. just stop staring at me like that.”

and then, with a quiet breath, your form folds in on itself, unraveling like frost under morning light.

a fox sits in your place. small. silent. ethereal.

fur the color of snow, eyes a pale mirror of his own, crystalline and bright. your ears flick once. tail swishes. you don’t look at him.

then you leap to the windowsill and vanish.

you avoid him for three days.

it isn’t just the absence that gnaws at him—it’s the way the air itself changes. the estate becomes hollow in your silence, as if the walls themselves are waiting for your voice to echo off them again. the golden sun still spills generously across the wooden walkways, but it clings less warmly.

the rooms feel like paintings with colors faded. the cicadas buzz in disjointed rhythms, as if unsure of the melody without your presence. even the koi pond, usually bubbling with life, lies eerily still—its surface untouched, save for a single petal that drifts in slow, lonely circles.

a maid, nervous and young, fumbles with a basket of freshly folded linens. she stands near the corridor, peeking through the shoji screens. her voice is a breath swallowed by wind. “was she sent away?”

satoru doesn’t answer. he doesn’t even blink.

he keeps walking, each footfall sharp against the wooden floor. the hem of his robe snaps in the breeze, trailing after him like the tail of some angry god. his mouth is a flat line, but his jaw ticks—the smallest motion, like a fault line warning of a quake.

by the third night, he’s nothing short of a storm in disguise.

he paces barefoot across the polished wood, his feet silent but purposeful. his sleeves are clenched in his fists, creased and wrinkled, like he’s been twisting them for hours. a servant places tea on the wrong tray. satoru’s voice slices through the quiet, and the poor boy nearly drops the porcelain. regret pools in his throat, but it’s drowned by the static hum under his skin. everything itches. everything spins.

then someone sees him on the roof.

it’s late—past midnight. the moon is a pale smear behind thin clouds. the estate holds its breath.

he’s perched on the highest ridge, a silhouette against the sky. he’s barefoot, robe askew, knees tucked to his chest like a child. his hair hangs in unruly wisps, strands clinging to his forehead, to his lashes. the fish in his hand steams faintly in the cool night air, wrapped neatly in a napkin.

he mutters to no one, to the wind, to maybe the stars themselves. “she likes this,” he says, the words sticky in his throat. he shifts, scanning the tiled expanse. his shoulders twitch, like he's expecting a blow.

“...idiot won’t come down.”

a breeze curls around the rooftop, whispering through the bamboo grove below.

he senses you before he sees you. a breath, a rustle, a pause in the air.

you appear at the far edge, fox-shaped and proud. your fur catches the moonlight, tail curled like smoke, eyes cool and distant. your gaze slides past him—purposefully disinterested.

he sits up straighter, the fish nearly slipping from his grip.

“come on,” he says, a hint of a whine beneath the irritation. “i said i was sorry!”

you respond with a yawn, long and slow. then you lick your paw in rhythmic, theatrical swipes. it’s deliberate. practiced. a slight squint of your eye tells him you know exactly what you’re doing.

he groans, running a hand down his face. “it wasn’t that mean.”

you pause to shoot him a look—flat, unimpressed.

“okay,” he admits, deflating. “maybe it was mean. really mean. like... award-winning cruelty.”

the silence that follows stretches. he fidgets, fingers tapping against his knee.

“look,” he says, with renewed urgency, “i saved you a dumpling.”

your ear twitches. he freezes.

his heart, traitorous and loud, skips.

he slides into a crouch. the tiles beneath him are still warm from the day’s heat. he wraps his arms around his knees, resting his chin there. the grilled fish lies beside him now, cooling in its wrapping.

“i didn’t mean it,” he says, quieter this time. “you’re not a pet. or a thing. i was just—mad. and scared. and being a dumbass.”

a heron cries somewhere beyond the estate walls. bamboo leaves rustle like whispered apologies.

then comes the sound of shifting weight. claws become skin. the wind carries the faintest scent of lilac and pine.

he doesn’t look up.

but he hears the footfalls.

bare. soft. deliberate.

you kneel beside him. your yukata hangs loosely around your shoulders, sleep-wrinkled and soft. your hair is mussed, some strands sticking to your cheek. you’re silent. unreadable.

your eyes flick toward him, then away. your hand snatches the dumpling. you take a bite—crunch.

the sound echoes.

satoru watches your cheeks puff out, soy sauce glistening at the corner of your mouth. he wants to wipe it off. he doesn’t dare.

“...you’re still mad, huh.”

you chew slowly, eyes locked on the horizon.

he groans and tips back onto the tiles, limbs splayed like he’s been defeated in battle. his robes shift, baring the curve of his calf to the night breeze.

“fine. sulk. but at least sulk up here, yeah?”

silence, again.

then a shuffle.

fabric against tile.

you edge closer, arms tucked around your knees. your gaze is hazy now, softened by exhaustion. the moon carves silver across your profile.

he turns his head, just slightly.

you’re close enough now that he can feel the warmth radiating off your shoulder. close, but not touching. always just that tiny bit of distance.

he shifts his hand. fingers inch toward yours. not touching—just... almost.

a beat passes.

then your pinky nudges his. a barely-there gesture. like brushing against starlight.

his heart stutters. something tender and helpless glows in his chest.

he glances at you, quietly.

the angle of your lashes, the faint furrow between your brows—like you’re still holding on to a grudge you can’t quite name. the sticky rice clinging to your sleeve. the way your lip twitches with restrained amusement.

he exhales. and then he laughs.

it cracks out of him, wild and surprised. a real laugh, from his stomach, from his chest. his head tips back, silver hair glinting like moonlight on water. his shoulders shake. his eyes squeeze shut. he breathes it out like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

you glance at him, eyebrows rising.

he nudges your knee with his, still laughing. you huff a little. roll your eyes. but your lips twitch.

and just like that—the sharpness of the world dulls.

the night feels softer. the air easier to breathe.

because you’re here. because you came back. because maybe this ridiculous, messy, stubborn thing between you is worth every ounce of ache.

and maybe he could get used to it.

maybe he already has.

ppl who asked for part 2 >:3 : @srtakibutsuji @megumisthirdog @rimuuuo @piinkyverse @misuguffy @69-gojos-wife-69

[unluckilyimnot]

Helro it's like 3am but anyways I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR WRITING IT'S SO CUTE AND FLUFFY silly too I love it.

I wanted to request a hc of making out with the Phantom Busters boys! Including my gosh Ichimiya if you don't mind.. Thank you! ❤❤

Making out w/ phantom busters boys

Note: I’m surprised how many people like those honestly I had to do a lot with all the fandom I write for lslsls not that I mind tho, here you go !!

You're so cute too aaa i never rhought i was funnt slsls thank you for asking <3 cw: semi-public for ichimiya

m.list | rules

If Mogari has only one weakness, which is not the case but for the sake of this little drabble he will, it must be to see you in a skirt. It has a certain effect on him, it doesn’t matter the length or the cut – it just suits you really well in his eyes. So even if you come by quickly, giving him back the notebook he forgot at school before your dance lesson, he can’t help it but kiss you a few more times than your schedule allows you.

“I really have to go,” you tried, pushing his chest slightly but his grip on your waist is firm, keeping you close.

It feels like he hasn’t seen you in ages when it’s literally been three hours but he can’t help it – he can’t be like that in school, so he enjoys it every time you come around his place.

“5 minutes,” he asked between two kisses, gasping for air before diving in again.

“You never respect that,” you whined when he barely let you talk before kissing you harder.

Your back is pushed on the door and the closer he gets to you, the hotter you feel. He’s too good at it, driving you crazy as he kisses you more and more. You want to abandon practice almost every time just to stay in his arms as he takes care of you. You're melting under his touch, so soft yet firm on your body.

He’s careful, he never hurts you but sometimes you just want him to, wondering what could be like. He loves you too much for that though, enough to almost eat you alive, to beg you to stay every time like he needs to feel your skin on his breath. Pulling you impossibly closer, you gasped at the strength he uses to hold you against his body. His tongue brushes on your lips, waiting for more and he’s so sure of himself that you’re gonna stay with him this time – it breaks your heart to shake your head. He looks at you with sad puppy eyes for a second when you pull away and cover his mouth with your hand.

“I have to go now,” your voice barely above a whisper. But he starts kissing your hand, puppy eyes long forgotten and trying to convince you to stay. Yet you shake your hand, trying to not look at him for too long. “I’ll come back after it, ok ?”

He’s about to faint, your voice is so soft, you seem so vulnerable that he wants to eat you alive. But he’s ready to wait for it. He nods, kissing you one last time before letting you.

Eugene is easy to mess with. He doesn’t miss the way you peek at his collarbone the few seconds it’s visible when he moves around. He has to call you out when you’re more focused on his lips than what he’s actually saying when he’s trying to explain something to you.

Or at least he let you think that it’s easy. But he’s quick to leave studying aside if you can’t focus on it and play your game instead. You’re shocked the first time you catch him peeking at your chest before he smiles innocently at you, leaving you flustered and stuttering at the next question. He looks at you from head to toe like he’s about to eat you alive and you genuinely don’t know how to react. You flinch when he pulls hair off your face to place it behind your ear – leaving him a better access to talk to your ear.

“Hard time to focus it seems ?” he asked rhetorically while kissing below your ear.

You hold back a squeal, staring at him with warning eyes but it doesn’t seem to alter him ; you can tell in his eyes he doesn’t care. And if you weren’t sure, he’s quick to grab your jaw and pull you in a kiss to be sure you understood where this was going. He takes a second to take off his glasses and leave them on the bed before pulling you in a kiss again. He doesn’t have much to do before you sighed in the kiss : pulling you closer, letting his hand wander around your waist until your shirt barely shows some skin but he doesn’t miss it. His other hand cradles your face as he deepens the kiss, almost nipping at your lips just to hear you whine at the slight pain.

“Too much for you ?” he coo, deliberately pushing the line as his fingers draw circles on the skin of your waist. You narrow your eyes at him, making him smirk.

“Shut it.” You don’t leave any room for him to answer that you’re kissing him again, putting yourself up on your knees so he has to turn his head up to kiss you. His lips are so soft on yours, you never want him to stop. It works magic on you, he could honestly ask you anything at the moment you’d say yes without hesitation.

Your chest’s dangerously closer to his face and you hope you can give him a test of his own teasing when you bring his hand back down when it brushes his fingers right below it. You catch him frowning as you break the kiss but tilt his chin up – you’re still out of reach and a sour chuckle leaves his lips. His cheek cuddles up in your hand while he looks up to you, playing along with your stupid game.

“You don’t want me anymore ?” His voice, so soft, yet so teasing it twists your stomach before you dive in for another open mouth kiss he gladly accepts. Feeling your body weight against his is delightful, he’s getting drunk on it and never wants to sober up. He wants you to sit on his knees, your shirt gone and to take his time kissing your skin. The knock on his door tells him otherwise.

The next second you're sitting right back next to him, fixing your shirt and his glasses are back on his nose before his friends walk inside his room, big smiles on their faces while Eugene is still a little bitter.

Kaoru should’ve known better than to let you “try” what they were doing in your fic regarding what you like to read. Or maybe his brain put that away willingly, knowing where that would lead him. Within a second, his phone was swapped away from his hand and tossed on the bed where he couldn’t find it and his back hit the mattress kindly.

Crawling on top of him, you can’t help it but cradle his face, particularly below his eyes with one hand before kissing him. It’s soft, you’re not sure where you’re going but you’re enjoying every step. He can’t forget the tenderness in your eyes when you look down at him, he doesn’t know how to deal with it. His heart is beating so fast, he has a hard time breathing – but it tastes so good, like cherry and he never wants it to stop. He’s feeling hot, he doesn’t know where to put his hands but on all the gods he wants you closer.

His hands cup your face, pulling you closer until you bend and lay on your elbow – mostly on him, with the majority of your weight but that’s exactly what he wants. He doesn’t get hungrier though, he likes it softly like this. When he feels your arms start shaking a little, he’s quick to grab your waist and pull himself up so you can sit on his lap instead.

He looks you in the eyes for a second, admiring the soft, red blush on your face. He smiles to himself. He loves you so much. His nose rubbed into yours as you were going into another kiss, taking you by surprise but you giggled at the gentleness. Your hands find his hair, going through it a little before kissing him again. On the other hand, he finally leaves his hands on your body, wandering around your waist – too shy to go anywhere else. He grabs your skin below your shirt when he feels like it, not expecting you to gasp the first time he touches a little lower than your waist.

It is too much for him, you on him, your warmth is making him dizzy and soon, he pulls away from you with puppy eyes telling you to stop. You don’t push, obviously, instead you rubbed your nose on his again and left one last peck on his lips.

“You’ve seen what you wanted ?” he asked, a red hue on his cheeks. You giggle.

“More than I could ask for.”

Tamon’s taken by surprise when you pull on his collar to kiss him. It took him a second to kiss you back, forgetting about his guitar pressed against his ribs to the point it hurts. He’s been practicing for hours now so he’s not that surprised for you to ask for attention, it’s simply rarely this intense.

Putting his guitar away to let space for you on his lap, you don’t waste a second to get there and sit close to him. Your hands cradling his face but never breaking the kiss, while his strong arms hold you gently. It felt like you haven’t kissed him in days and you had this urge to be close to him. Leaving a few kisses on his lips, you then rested your head on his shoulders, enjoying the heat radiating from his body like a cat. You were content with the attention you received and felt much better now.

It was his time to ask for a bit more in the end. With your neck exposed like that, he couldn’t help it but kiss the soft skin there, making you giggle as it tickles. A smile spread on his lips at the sweet melody before he got carried away and wandered down to your shoulder, pushing away your shirt when it got in the way.

A whine left your lips when he bit slightly the thin skin near the bones but he looked at you so innocently you let it slide, grabbing his face to kiss him again instead – trying to make him forget about your now exposed skin. It was a hard task, once he had his eyes on it, he tended to kiss it up and down, getting you all worked up as his hands wander from your waist to your legs. You gasped when he grabbed on it hard, almost making you squeal but he’s quick to kiss you again before you can argue with it. You forget every time how he can be when he’s like that : shutting you down, holding you close and leaving you out of breath and unable to catch it before he kisses you again. So you always start it, only for him to laugh at the end. 

This conversation was going nowhere and Ichimiya felt his patience running out. That was until your voice came out of the door. He didn’t hear you knocking but someone must have invited you inside or else you wouldn’t have come in. He hates to think about it, he doesn’t want to use his status to do what he’s like, but right now all he wants it’s some time alone with you so it can ease his mind away from this stupid meeting.

“Leave us alone,” he says strictly, crying inside to his actual abuse of power, but pinched the bridge of his nose to make it clear it wasn’t an option. Within a minute everyone was out, leaving you in the center of the room, quite surprised they left so easily.

“What’s wrong ?” you asked as you walked to his desk. He’s leaning against it, never taking his eyes away from you as you make you away into his arms kindly.

“The meeting was so tiring,” he explained, leaning his head immediately in the crook of your neck.

You let him, petting his hair slowly. You two stay in the silence room, not trying to fill it, rather enjoying it that way. You’re about to ask what was so hard about this meeting when he starts kissing your neck, leaving a thousand small pecks over the area until he gets up to your jaw, making you giggle then your cheek and, finally, your lips. He kisses your smile softly, once, then twice and so on until it fades away, replaced with something more eager than playful.

He holds you closer, one arm holding all the way around your waist to be sure you can’t walk away when the other holds your neck, right below your ears. He can’t get enough, eager to eat you all, but there’s only so much you can give him at the moment. It drives him crazy. All he can do is kiss you, again and again, like it was the first and last time, as if you would disappear afterwards.

It doesn’t last long, he can’t let himself get carried away in the council room. He’s out of breath, so are you, and he forgot all about this stupid meeting. He leaves his forehead against yours, catching his breath while he enjoys your body close to him a few more seconds before he has to let go – in case anyone enters.

“Feeling better ?” you giggle because you already know the answer; but he still nods. 

Let me know if you liked it!

[miupow]

★ ── LE SEXE, JE VEUX DIRE !

what happens when you give the hyung line an aphrodisiac 。 。 。?

꒰୨୧ ꒱ pairing。stray kids hyung line x fem!reader genre。 pure smut , pwp warnings。 aphrodisiacs , sex while intoxicated , breeding kink , primal play , vaginal fingering , oral (m. rec) , deepthroat , unprotected sex , creampies , masturbation (m. rec) , phone sex , diy porn , sex while filming

a/n ⸝⸝ requested skz version of my txt drabble! i’m lowkey not a big fan of this… but here it is anyway lol. [ 0. 7k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

𝔅ANGCHAN

chris is completely sure the aphrodisiac candies you purchased wouldn't do a thing, just a silly marketing gimmick printed all over the foil packaging he turned over in his hands. but you had gotten them as a surprise, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt your feelings– so he casts aside his doubts and eats his share with a smile, ready to put on his best show of pretending to be affected. he wouldn't even be really acting, since you can get him going no matter what... yet to his complete shock reduced to a mess within minutes, panting and squirming above you, his hips canting up to press the swell of his clothed cock against the curve of your ass. his control slips when you grind back against him, pussy drunk and unable to think of anything other than fuck, claim, breed as he flips you over and mounts you like an animal. he’s definitely having you get more of these.

𝔐INHO

minho’s immediate response to you showing him the chocolates was to scold you for wasting money on worthless placebos. there was no way you believed that they would actually do anything, right? but he eats them with you anyway, because you’re very persuasive when you’re pouting. he’ll tell you they did nothing for him at all, as he’s knuckle deep in your pussy, your hot little mouth swallowing his cock to the hilt. he didn’t feel a thing, as he’s lining up his weeping tip to your entrance. he’s completely unaffected, watching with dark hazy eyes as his thick cum leaks out of your hole. those stupid chocolates had nothing to do with how he fucked you until the sun came up. and you let him believe it, because it gives you an excuse to try it again.

𝓒HANGBIN

changbin always finds some way to derail your plans… you had hidden some aphrodisiac chocolates your had bought in hopes of surprising him with them later, but you were never the best at hiding things— your boyfriend finds them within the first day. mistaking them for regular candy, he eats them without a thought; and hours later he calls you desperately from the studio, hiding in the bathroom with his pants around his knees as he fists his aching cock. the lewd wet sounds echo against the tile and harmonize with his pretty low moans, all filtering directly into the phone’s speaker and making your pussy throb. “i need you so bad,” he whimpers, his hand speeding up, “need your pussy so bad…” detailing in a needy groan every nasty little thing he planned to do to you once he got home, the growl in his voice enough to make your legs shake. you hated to ruin the mood, but you just had to know; “binnie, did you eat those chocolates in the pantry?” “um… maybe?”

𝓗YUNJIN

the candies were his idea, actually— he figured they were a perfect addition to the films he liked to make. you couldn’t even call them sex tapes, with how careful and artistic hyunjin was in filming them… but he loved to film often, and was always coming up with new ways to keep things new and exciting. sharing candies between kisses on camera, hands wandering as you lay tangled together on the hotel bed. the both of you growing hotter and needier as time went on, gentle caresses turning into rough manhandling, tugging at each other’s clothes til you were both bare in eachother’s arms. hyunjin looks straight into the camera with a smirk as he flips you over onto your hands and knees, your face buried in the pillow to muffle your scream when he slides his thick long cock into your wet pussy with one firm thrust. he reaches over to pick the camera up off of it’s tripod, angles it down so it gets a clear view of your asscheeks bouncing against his abs from the force of his thrusts, his big hand pressing down on your arched back as his cock splits your creamy cunt open. neither of you last as long as usual, deeply affected by the aphrodisiac and desperate for release— he makes sure to get the best possible angle of him pulling out and cumming on your ass, pearly white ropes of cum decorating your flushed skin like a painting. you’re his favorite work of art, and he just can’t get enough of showing it off.

[0107nw]

⇒ soulmate!dick grayson x cat girl!reader

summary: short drabble (soon to be written fic) in which your shared soul mark is the inability to lie to one another. lots of teasing ensues!

genre: soulmate!au, “rivals” to lovers

warnings: none for the drabble!

a/n: did i abandon my haikyuu blog for dc? yeah…. yeah 😞😞😞

currently unedited || masterlist

you’d been by catwoman’s side for years now, starting from when you were just ten years old. like the dynamic duo of gotham, selina had taken you under her supervision, minus your family dying in a tragic circus accident of course.

your first meeting with batman’s boy wonder was quite eventful, a game of cat and mouse - or a cat toying with a bird. you took great pleasure in out pacing robin as he tried to catch you.

As kids you two were honest with each other, through the back and forth’s or the rare occasions when your mentors would work together - thus forcing you two to work together.

uttering a lie to one another would never have even crossed your minds, what better way to voice your disdain than by voicing it to the person causing such strong negative emotions?

unfortunately for the two of you, that honesty did not could not stop in your adulthood.

now no longer “robin” or “catgirl”, the two of you have adopted your own personas, no matter how close or distant it was from your titles as sidekicks.

kitty was the name you settled for, seeing as selina refused to step down as catwoman, and your genius younger self decided she was too grown to be catgirl during her teenage years, you were now stuck with something more or less the same.

and dick grayson - nightwing, was loving it.

it was supposed to be a quick swipe, get into the gallery, grab a few of the paintings stored away in the back and get out. of course, the ever so righteous nightwing couldn’t allow that to happen.

“here kitty-kitty, why don’t you drop the paintings and indulge in a little treat?” he’d tease, a smirk present on his face, a grimace present on yours.

“i’d love to, but this kitty’s a little busy.”

you furrowed your brows as you registered your own response.

… of course he’d use your silly soulmate mark against you.

“cute, are you gonna keep being honest with me, or are you just feeling nice?”

you push past him, hands tightly grasping the duffle bag filled with small pieces, you didn’t get why he would be so eager to bust you for something so trivial - you’d been transparent about what would happen to the paintings anyways.

your time as a petty criminal was long over, ever since selina had taken you in, and you’d formed a deep appreciation for the arts over the years. the prints you stole would always be donated to spaces you knew would love and appreciate the art given to them. unless of course, you were covering for selina.

kind of like the art worlds own robin hood - though nightwing would disagree with that.

“come on, pretty. y’know i’m just teasing -”

“don’t you have actual criminals to stop, or am i just lucky.” your sarcasm was enough to gain a small chuckle from him, he began following you as you made your way back out of the building.

dick sped up his pace, manoeuvring his body so that he’d be in front of you now. hands moving to grasp your shoulders and stop your own movement, you rolled your eyes puffing up your cheeks in annoyance as he fumbled your plans. again.

with a coo, dick grabbed your chin, pulling you closer to leave a peck on them as you continued to pout. “awh, is my cute little soulmate sad she can’t steal a few paintings?”

“yes. and she’s also annoyed that her annoying boyfriend keeps using their soulmate bond against her. stop asking me questions! i need to get these to selina.”

“i’m sure bruce can keep her busy a little longer, gimme those paintings, i’ll leave them in the back, and you and i can spend the rest of the night cuddled up at my place.”

you rolled your eyes at him, nudging his hands off of your shoulders and continuing to the rooftop. behind you, you heard his own signal of annoyance. you smirked at his huff.

he once again moved himself to block your path, you dropped your smirk and looked up at him with a judgemental glare.

“why is it that batman let’s selina get away with stealing, but the second she gets me to do her dirty work, im getting chased down by gotham’s resident goody two shoes?”

“because selina’s his fiance and has him wrapped around her finger, and you’re my girlfriend, double standards i know - but everyone’s a critic.” he shrugged, before grabbing at the bag in your hands. giving your nose a quick boop before turning to make his way back into the building.

“hey- give that back! and are you suggesting that you’re not as whipped for me as bruce is for selina? i thought we were meant to be soulmates.”

“of course i’m as pathetically desperate as he is, whenever im around you i feel like a wet dog whining for attention. do you know how much self control it’s taking to grab this bag off of you?”

you hummed, satisfied with his answer - and the use of the soulmate bond to get said answer out of him. you swayed your hips as you walked up to him, pressing a palm to his chest while the other dragged down his arm.

you could hear his breath hitch, almost hear him purr as you plucked the bag from his hands, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“then i’m sure bats will understand why you couldn’t get the bag back, hm?” you stepped away from him, a grin in place of the smug expression you had moments ago. “i’ll see you at home, love you!”

you jumped off the roof, making your way back to selina with the goods secured.

“hey uh… bruce?”

he heard his mentor sigh on the other end of the comms. bruce knew all too well the struggles of being bonded to the cats of gotham.

[angelsforthenight]

hunter!vi x vampire!reader drabble

cw: dark fic! blood, degrading, toxic, sub!vi

“you’re the most perverted of them all.” you whisper in the hunter’s ear, before dragging your tongue behind it. poor thing’s already whimpering and twitching, her hot, quick little pants resembling her of a dog.

“you know what’s going to happen to you, yet you insist on staying! wretched, wretched girl.” you continue to scold, even as your lips are beginning to press searing open-mouthed kisses on her neck. vi can barely register what you’re saying, not when her hips are starting to unconsciously buck against yours, sitting on her lap as you are. a complacent grin finds itself on your lips, and you bare your fangs. you hear vi’s pulse race harder and faster as a result.

“you should be ashamed…” you mock being upset, as your mouth nears her fluttering neck once more. vi’s breathing has accelerated so much that it’s audible, her eyes fluttering shut. though you relish in her fear, you do not fail to notice the way she’s squeezing her thighs, perverted as she is, trying to alleviate her obvious arousal. getting off on a vampire about to bite you… tut tut!

it all happens slowly. you’re not trying to rush this after all, and most of all: you’re not trying to kill her either. your fingers stir up her hair, gently stroking the back of them as you simultaneously sink your teeth in. as if to provide comfort in the midst of a ghastly scene. vi grunts, quick to melt into high keened-moans. her fingers grip your shoulders for support. you take all that you can get, adorned with the utmost self control, even with vi being the one you’ve wanted the most in a long time. even if her blood tastes just as you imagined, better than the glories of heaven itself.

the ‘tough’ hunter vi usually portrays herself as has completely melted away, and now replaced with this hopeless whining woman: twitching against you, gripping you tighter. with the sounds that are leaving her kiss-swollen lips, you would’ve assumed she’d be lamenting over a dead dog, or having the most mind-blowing orgasm of her life.

you have to wrench yourself away, throwing your head back and letting out a breath as if you’ve just been plunged underwater for ages. vi’s blood is smeared all over your mouth, dripping down to your chin. you gaze at her, eyes wild and glowing, only to be met with glazed, foggy eyes back. eyebrows furrowed together, lips quivering. she’s a sight.

“kiss me.” vi dares whisper. you blink. to what lengths must this woman go to? “i wanna know what you’re so crazy about.”

there is no value in protesting, so you comply: cupping her face and crashing your lips together. what a gruesome pair of lips and teeth, gloopy in blood, and vi has the nerve to taste herself. she’s ravaging your lips as if she never wants you to leave. fuck, you would devour her if you could.

and then you feel something cold and hard press against your stomach. ah. there it is, vi’s trusty little dagger, threatening to split your stomach open. you and vi make eye contact.

“intentions, right?” vi huffs, you gaze at her blankly - used to this silly little game.

“do it. do it since you detest me so much.” you whisper it like a prayer in vi’s lips, before kissing her yet again. vi doesn’t do so much as pull away.

a/n: a little vi drabble to keep you on your feet whilst i continue to work on the camgirl fic ദ്ദി •⩊• ) sorry guys pt 3 make take a liiiiiitle bit longer cuz of school uueeeehhhh 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 anyways HERE! HAVE THIS!!!!!!!

[moonstruckme]

Tumblr disappeared the request (I'm going to tear my hair out) but this is a silly little thawing out drabble! Read the series here

request: okay thawing out scenario!! only if you want to but something with talks of their relationship on social media? not smau but either an interview or them reading tweets or theories people are cooking up and laughing about it??

cw: modern au, some allusion to non-hetero relationships not being the default

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“They’ve caught on!” 

Sirius wastes no time with a greeting as he marches into Remus’ flat. Neither you nor Remus do more than look up from where you’re sitting together on his bed; you’re both used enough to this sort of behavior to defer overreaction. 

“Also,” he goes on in the same tone of urgency, “it’s fucking freezing out there. Scoot.” 

“Hi.” You laugh as Sirius takes off his shoes and crawls onto the bed with you, immediately tucking his feet under your bum. Remus is grateful his own arse is too bony to be selected for this purpose (much), but you bear it complaisantly. “What have they caught onto?” 

Remus loves how comfortable you both are here. His flat has become the unofficial rendezvous point for the three of you, despite having no furniture yet other than a large bed and an armchair one of his neighbors was trying to throw out when he moved in. He presumes this is only because it’s situated nearly equidistant to your apartment and Sirius’, but it makes things marvelously easy for him; most mornings after practice you all simply come here, and Remus doesn’t ever need to go far looking for love when it’s always knocking at his door. 

“They know about me and Remus,” Sirius says, tapping at his phone. 

Remus feels his brows furrow. “Who knows?” 

“The press!” 

You lean over to look at his screen, and a snort escapes you. “The press. Tabloids are not the press.” 

“They have a picture of us at the grocery, someone must have taken it very sneakily.” Sirius is positively glowing as he delivers news of his stalker victim-hood. “We’re holding hands and everything, it’s very scandalous. I have to say, I’m a bit impressed with how progressive they are to discover us before one of us and y/n,” he scrolls downward, “though there are a few comments about you stealing me away from her…” 

Remus can’t help a small smile. Sirius is so clearly delighted with his new celebrity status, he’s unlikely to shake the swagger from his step for the rest of the week. 

“Unfortunately, they aren’t quite that progressive,” he says. “I saw a photo of y/n and I last week.” 

“What?” 

Sirius’ head whips up so fast Remus worries for his neck. If he thinks for a moment to look to you to laugh at your ridiculous boyfriend with him, Remus is mistaken; you turn to him with a similar expression, shock mingled with dismay. 

“What?” you ask. “Why didn’t you say?” 

“Yeah! Why didn’t you?” Sirius agrees fervently. 

Remus shrugs. “I didn’t think any of us would care.” That’s a lie; he knew Sirius would care, but he would care too much, and at ten in the evening when Remus saw the photo he simply didn’t fancy the prospect of staying up all night. 

“I want to see.” You’re pulling out your phone now, too, looking up your names online. “What were we doing? Did I look okay?” 

Sirius scoffs. “Gorgeous, don’t make me laugh.” 

Remus hums his agreement, wrapping an arm around your neck and kissing your head. 

“Now that I’m looking…” Sirius continues scrolling. “There are people talking about your pictures in the comments, too. Some people say you’re keeping Remus from me.” 

Remus muses aloud, “I wonder how long it will take for someone to actually consider that none of us is keeping any of us from anyone.” 

Sirius’ eyes flash. “Care to make a bet?” 

“No,” you mumble reflexively, still hunting down your paparazzi photo. Remus, however, is considering it. “It could be argued that I’m keeping both of you away from the general population, anyway.” 

“Awe,” Sirius coos. He dips his head to mush a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Though your expression doesn’t change as you stare at your phone, Remus is willing to bet that your skin has warmed a few degrees. “Thanks, baby.” 

“Oh god.” Remus can tell the moment you find the photo, because your tapping stops all at once, brows stitching together in distress. “Why would they catch us then, of all times?”

“Let me see.” Sirius practically clambers into your lap, despite the fact that he could easily have looked from his spot beside you, to view your screen. 

“I look like death.” Sirius usually monopolizes the drama department in your relationship, but you sound properly horrified. “Is that what I really how my posture is?” 

“I didn’t think it was that bad a photo,” says Remus. He leans over to see. “Dove, you look fine.” Behind your back, a skinny finger snakes around to jab Remus’ side. “You look lovely, you always do.” 

The photo was taken at your usual coffee shop, likely in the early hours before practice. Ordinarily the three of you would go together, but Remus remembers this particular morning because it was only you two. Sirius had come down with a nasty cold, and you had asked Remus to come to the rink with you anyway to oversee some of your moves for the new routine you were working on. He’d known as soon as he’d seen you that Sirius’ illness had passed on to you; his bright-eyed early riser was droopy and out of it, your smile appearing only at intervals and seemingly with some effort. Remus had played along with your usual morning routine until the warm drinks were in your hands, and then he’d shepherded you back to your apartment and to bed. 

“My dark circles are so bad I look like a cartoon skull.” You press the pads of your fingers underneath your eyes concernedly. 

“They weren’t that bad,” Remus assures you, rubbing your shoulder. “And I’ve only seen your posture look like that when you’re sick and it’s four in the morning. Don’t worry over it.” 

“I think you look cute.” Sirius smiles at the picture. It’s the soft, unaffected kind that makes Remus’ heart thump painfully. “You two do look very couple-y, though, I can see how they drew conclusions.” 

“Wonder why,” Remus mutters. 

“So, a wager? I say a month until they put it together.” 

“A month?” No way is anyone going to guess polyamory in a month; not when they’re just starting to fight about who’s stealing who from whom. “Sure, I’ll take that.” 

“He’ll only stack the odds by being obvious in public,” you say, finally putting down your phone with a slight sulk. “I, for one, don’t fancy being kissed with ulterior motive.” 

Sirius snuggles up to you, cooing. “I would never kiss you with ulterior motive, my love.” 

“Forget it, then,” Remus says hastily. 

“No, no, wait. What if I promised not to stack the odds?” 

You look at Sirius, interested. “That would mean no public displays of affection until the bet was finished,” you say, slowly. 

Sirius’ mouth pinches with displeasure, but he says, “Fine. Two weeks.” 

“You think you can make it two weeks, Pads?” Remus teases. 

“I’ll have you know I can exercise extraordinary restraint, when I want to. Shake on it.” 

“Alright, I’ll take your money.”

[ilovegojotewwwmuch]

Shy! Reader x affectionate! Satoru.

You’d never been good with being affectionate, you were often shy, satoru knew that. That fact didn’t stop him from clinging onto you like a puppy whenever he got the chance.

“No ‘toru, s’too early.” You say looking at the clock on your nightstand, it reading; 5:30 am.

“Im just lovin’ on you baby, besides- you know what they say. Early bird gets the worm” he said playfully, though it wasn’t something you wanted to hear straight off the wake up.

“You’re corny sometimes, you know that?”

“You love it.” He’d tease.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It was a lazy afternoon for you both, when he wasn’t teaching and fighting curses and upholding his image as “The strongest”

He was here, with you like this.

His head In your lap as you scroll on your phone, his lanky body sprawled on the rest of the couch while you sat with your legs under you.

“Toru, this is embarrassing.” You say, looking down at him.

“How? Im inbetween your legs all the time, what’s the difference” he lifted his head up and turned to you.

“I don’t know, I just feel silly like this, is all.”

You said shyly, even if you’d been together a while, you still got shy.

he didn’t mind it much, he’d would never push you out of your comfort zone.

“Do you want me to move baby? I can lay over there.” He said, insinuating the other side of the couch.

“…not really? No..” you said quietly, but it was enough for him. He laid his head back gently, not before pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You’re silly you know that?”

“Me?” You tilted your head.

“You” he said, smiling softly up at you from your lap.

“How am I silly, toru?”

“You say you’re embarrassed at the most normal things, I’ve noticed. Which isn’t a problem. But you never want me to srop those things.” He said like he’s already made this observation .

“I suppose im just a little shy still.” You clear your throat, a little nervous.

He just looked up at you, in adoration,it didn’t bother him, only flattered him more that he could make you nervous.

“That’s what I love about you, so shy.”

He said, a grin on his face.

“Probably why your friends are so confused on how we ended up like this, so cocky toru.”

He faked offense, his hand covering his heart

“Me? Cocky? Pphsssshhhh. No way!”

You smiled softly, fingers combing through his white locks, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Whatever you say toru”

Au; my second Drabble guyss, well can you really call this one..🌚 anyways. It’s 4 am so it’s probably shitty bye.

TAGS; #sfw #gojosatoru #fluff #jjk #jjkxreader

[misswynters]

Tag you’re it!

— short drabble

featuring. ekko x reader

Ekkos super lucky to have a cool and awesome partner like you in his life. He gives you his jacket <3 and i absolutely need him fr fr.

Zaun’s night was alive, a symphony of life and danger. Neon lights buzzed erratically, painting the streets in streaks of vibrant pinks and greens. The air was thick with humidity and the acrid stench of fumes rising from the ever-churning pipes of the undercity. You stood alone on one of the higher walkways, gazing down at the labyrinth of narrow streets below. It wasn’t safe to linger in one spot too long, especially not for someone with your reputation.

You adjusted the sleeves of the pink and black leather jacket you wore, Ekko’s jacket. It hung loose around your shoulders, the fabric worn and patched in places but still carrying the faintest scent of him. The shorts and cropped tank top you paired with it left your legs free to move. And an essential choice given your weapon of choice: rollerblades strapped snugly to your feet. It was fast, so fast that it left pink marks on its wake.

Below you, Zaun moved like clockwork. People shuffled between stalls, exchanging goods, whispers, and the occasional stolen glance over their shoulders. Somewhere in the distance, a fight broke out, the sound of shouts and the shattering of glass punctuating the night. You exhaled deeply, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Your girls weren’t with you tonight. The Indigo club, a group you’d built from nothing, had made a name for itself in Zaun. You helped the downtrodden, fought back against the gangs and chem-barons in your own chaotic way, and had fun doing it. For tonight though, you’d sent them home. Sometimes, the quiet helped. But it wasn’t working. The memories pressed against the edges of your mind, unrelenting.

The Enforcers had come without warning. You were only seven, sitting at the dinner table with your parents and siblings, laughing over some silly story your brother had told. Then came the shouts, the crash of boots against the door, and the sharp, metallic ring of gunfire.

Your family’s blood had stained the floorboards, and you’d been left alive, frozen in shock, staring into the lifeless eyes of your mother. That was when Silco had found you, a trembling, hollow child, and taken you under his wing. He’d molded you into something sharp and unbreakable, but even he hadn’t been able to keep you tethered. You’d escaped his world, too, carving out your own existence in Zaun’s shadows.

A sharp sound brought you back to the present.

“Gotta say, you wear that jacket way better than I ever did.”

You turned, a smirk tugging at your lips. Ekko stood a few feet away, his Z-Drive glowing faintly at his side. He looked at you the way he always did, like you were a storm he was more than willing to stand in the path of.

“Yeah?” you teased, placing a hand on your hip. “Could’ve fooled me. It’s a little big.”

He grinned, his gaze sweeping over you. “It’s not the jacket, it’s you. You make anything look good.”

“Smooth,” you replied, rolling your eyes. But you felt the warmth creeping up your neck.

Ekko stepped closer, his expression softening. “You okay? You’ve been out here alone for a while.”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice steady. “Just needed some air. It’s been quite a day.”

“More like a life,” he muttered, his tone bitter. He reached out, brushing his fingers against your arm.

You looked away, the weight of his words pressing down on you. “Atleast i’m not alone. I have my girls, and I have you.”

“And yet, here you are, by yourself,” he said pointedly.

“Maybe I wanted some company.” You shot him a sideways glance, a challenge in your eyes. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I heard someone was lurking on the rooftops in my jacket,” he replied, smirking. “Thought I’d check it out.”

“Well, now that you’re here,” you said, stepping back and adjusting your rollerblades, “how about a game?”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What kind of game?”

“Tag,” you said simply, your smirk widening. “You and me. I’ve got my wheels, and you’ve got your fancy time-travel thing. Let’s see who’s faster.”

Ekko crossed his arms, a playful light in his eyes. “You’re seriously challenging me? You know I can rewind time and i have a hoverboard, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, waving him off. “We’ll see how much that helps you when you’re eating my dust.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, you’re on. But don’t cry when I win.”

“Keep dreaming, Z-man.”

The game was chaos, pure and simple. You darted through Zaun’s twisting streets, the wheels of your rollerblades clattering against the uneven ground. Ekko chased you with his hoverboard, his Z-Drive whirring faintly every time he rewound a moment to close the distance.

You weaved between stalls, leaping over crates and sliding under low-hanging pipes with practiced ease. Ekko wasn’t far behind, his agility and quick reflexes keeping him on your tail.

“You’re not bad for a guy who can rewind time!” you called over your shoulder, laughing breathlessly.

“Ha! You’re not bad for someone I’m about to catch!” he shot back, his voice filled with exhilaration.

Just as he was about to grab your arm, you executed a sharp turn, ducking into an alley and out of his reach. His frustrated groan echoed behind you, and you couldn’t help but grin. The chase continued until you reached an open courtyard, the neon lights reflecting off the slick pavement. You skidded to a stop, panting but grinning triumphantly.

“Give up yet?” you teased, leaning on your knees.

Ekko appeared seconds later, breathing just as hard but with a smug look on his face. “You wish.”

Before you could respond, he lunged, wrapping an arm around your waist and spinning you around. You laughed, the sound echoing through the courtyard, as he set you down and held you close.

“I fucking adore you” he said, his forehead resting against yours.

“I know you do,” you replied, your breath mingling with his. For a moment, the world seemed to slow. His eyes searched yours, and you felt the weight of his gaze, the unspoken connection between you.

“You’re it,” he whispered, tagging your side lightly.

“Cheater,” you murmured, but there was no heat in your words.

“That’s me,” he said with a grin, his hand slipping down to intertwine with yours. He knew he can never be on your bad side, i mean with the way he always looked at you. With those cute puppy brown eyes. Absolutely cute. Absolutely handsome indeed he was. You were lucky to have him in your life, treating you with the outmost respect and kindness you didn’t think you deserved.

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights

banner. @anitalenia

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Secrets That Bite Back |

18+ MINORS DNI

For the longest time America’s star spangled Captain, or as you know him as Steve, has kept a little secret. A secret he thinks he guards well yet the rest of the Avengers seem to know already. Biting the bullet he decides to share this information with you but you have a secret of your own who isn’t too pleased about it.

✧Pairing✧ Bucky Barnes x Agent!Reader

✧Warnings✧ Feelings, Oblivious Reader, Mention of Wet Dreams, Mention of Oral (M), Mentions of PinV, Attempted Confessions, Jealousy, Like real bad, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism (to be safe), Multiple Hard Orgasms, Fingering, Oral (F), Degredation?, [Names: Babydoll, Baby, Bunny], Marking, Unprotected PinV, Dirty Talk, Possesive Behaviour/Words, Creampie, A lil Aftercare (Very brief), Poor Stevie, I feel so bad — If there is any more you find not listed here please be sure to let me know so i can add it.

✧Word Count✧ 1.5K

✧Author Note✧ This entire thing was sprouted from a little drabble I made a few months back that I was going to post but thought I could make something better out of it. Well its been a bit since then but here we are. I’m happy about how this has turned out considering i’ve been hating everything I make as of recently. I very much bully Steve in this fic, I felt so bad writing it. Anyways I hope you enjoy this please let me know what you think of it.

It was no secret that the face of America had a little crush on you. He wasn’t exactly accustomed to hiding his feelings, often wearing his heart on his sleeve, so at the first twinges of love brewing in the Cap’s gut everyone in the compound already knew. Except for you.

You assumed the kind eyes and lady-killing smile were something he did to everyone; he had a reputation to uphold and that meant being nice to everyone, not just his Avengers colleagues.

“Hey Cap” You smiled gently at the sight of his broad frame entering the briefing room, the first one there beside yourself. You couldn’t see it, the way his stiff shoulders visibly drooped at your honey-tinged voice, the creases in his forehead relaxing until there was no evidence of their existence at all. What was there though was a deep rosy blush as memories of the previous night’s dream filled his brain like a disease, coiling around any basic human function he once had full control over malfunctioning.

He remembers the way those perfect lips kissed his own, down over the thick column of his neck and further, until he lost his mind thanks to your expert mouth sucking gently on the head of his cock. How your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he sunk home above you, uncontrollable sounds escaping you as he took you the way he needed; primal, hard but oh so loving. Steve was down bad for you and it was affecting his professional life with you. He’d either have to get rid of you or confess and in no uncertain terms was he getting rid of such a great agent.

The crushing continued; the Cap had fallen short of his word to confess his feelings and the cycle repeating itself. The dreams, the sight of you walking around the compound in the same uniform everyone else wore yet it somehow looked even better on you, then he was making silly little mistakes.

He had made up his mind, psyching himself up in front of his bathroom mirror. This Friday was Avengers movie night, he knew you were there every week and most of his other friends were out drinking or on their own mission, leaving only you, Steve and Bucky — Bucky wouldn’t show up to the movie night so it was perfect — the pair of you cuddled up on the couch, his lips on yours instead of paying any kind of attention to the three-star rated movie that played.

There you were, sitting so cutely curled up under a thick blanket, your hand already fisting large amounts of popcorn into your mouth, your hair unruly and not a trace of makeup in sight. Steve always thought you looked the prettiest like that. He waited until the movie was well and truly underway, gunfire and explosions booming from the speakers before he made his move.

“Uhm”

You turned to him instantly, wide eyes framed with thick lashes staring up at him, “hm?”

God, you were too cute. You were making this hard on the blonde super soldier. Steve moved cautiously, taking both of your hands in his much larger ones, rough thumbs soothing over your knuckles — trying to calm himself down more than anything else. You watched the bulky man in front of you fight internal emotions threatening to bubble forth, his chest heaving with deep breaths before his eyes pinned on you, blue colour thick with determination.

“I-I don't really know how to start this…” Oh no. “I-uh I think you are amazing, an amazing agent, an amazing friend. You are gorgeous, you have such a beautiful soul that shone over me, from my first day off the ice, the rays from your smile have always made me feel alive. What I’m trying to say and failing is that I—“

Your body stiffened as a hand clapped down on your shoulder, cold and hard, glimmering against the harsh lighting of the screen to your right.

Unfortunately for Steve, you had a secret of your own. That secret watched with possessive eyes as Steve melted like hot butter in your presence, watched as the Captain’s eyes raked down your body when your back was turned — he also watched now as Steve sat a little too close to something that was not his stuttering over his confession. He’d had enough and decided that maybe Steve had to learn his place, even if it meant your little secret got out.

“Bucky” Steve breathed at the sight of his brooding friend, staring up into blue eyes that were stained green at the sight of you two canoodling right in front of him. He wasn’t sure if you were ignorant or completely oblivious to Steve’s feelings.

“Steve” Bucky returned, the coldness like the thin edge of a blade running down the length of your spine. “Do you mind?”

Steve’s hands slipped from your own, disappointment radiating from him. From the feeling of Bucky behind you, rough jeans tenting against your shoulder, you had a feeling Steve was about to feel a lot more than disappointment.

Wordlessly Bucky pulled you up, dragging you through the threshold of the sitting room to the kitchen and into the laundry cupboard. He wouldn’t be able to make it back to his room and he wanted Steve to hear everything.

“S-shit Bucky” you wailed as your second orgasm hits you like a freight train; your juices spilling all over the tinted vibrainum and his stubbled chin, he sucked hard on your puffy clit in response. Your legs shook so violently you were sure they would collapse underneath you if it weren’t for the bruising grip Bucky’s free hand had on your hip, no doubt leaving finger-shaped bruises on your skin.

The thought to keep quiet had long since run from you, even before your first orgasm. The threat of Bucky not stopping until you couldn’t leave his room, his bed, and he’d have his way with you while you were helpless had long since clouded your mind of any decency. Filthy moans spewed out your bitten lips, a mixture of pleas and Bucky’s name filling the tiny closet.

“Mm, what is it babydoll? Can’t handle it huh? Maybe you shouldn’t have been such an oblivious little bunny, letting poor Steve confess his feelings to you when you got me. This is what you get and you’re going to take it aren’t you?” Bucky growled, dirty words spilling down the sweaty skin of your neck, over the dark love bites he’d placed there earlier.

The super soldier stood, flipping you easily and capturing your lips in his own before you could even catch a breath, his tongue delving into your mouth a second later allowing you to taste your essence on him. His fingers made quick work of his belt and jeans, pushing them to the floor along with his briefs, a harsh sign vibrating against your mouth at the cold air against his raging red tip.

Your body jerked when his thick length slapped over your oversensitive clit, your gasp clipped into a softer moan when he circled only to slap it again before pushing deeper through your sopping folds.

“Who’s got you like this hm?” He whispered teasingly, his free hand finding its home around your throat, giving you a little squeeze. He didn't wait for a response before canting his hips, a dark smile gracing his lust-contorted face when he caught onto the dip of your whole. His groan complimented your shrill cry as he sunk home, giving you no time to adjust before taking you roughly. His thrusts felt so familair yet so foreign at the same time, hard unorgiving thrusts so unlike Bucky’s nature yet your body leered, loving the treatment because it knew the man responsible.

“Answer me, baby, tell the world, tell your precious little Stevie who’s fucking you. So. Fucking. Good.”

“You Bucky” the last of your dignity thrown out of a window as you sobbed out his name like a prayer, a mantra for all to hear. “Only you.”

Your third orgasm took you by surprise, no warning, no buildup. Like a star in supernova, it exploded, your vision going white and your body stiff — you couldn’t even make a sound.

“Fuck Bucky!!”

“That’s fucking right, only me, I’m the only one for you baby. You’re mines - fuck so good” he moaned loudly; pushing through your impossibly tight walls until his fat tip kissed your cervix oh so sweetly, hot spend spilling out over the end of your cunt and filling up your walls until there was no more room for it to go — the excess spilt out down the brunette’s twitching balls.

You didn't react as he bundled you up into his arms, stripping you of your shirt and throwing the clothes into the wash. You didn't feel when he moved both of your naked bodies from the tiny room out into the open, down the hall to his room. You were asleep as he cleaned you thoroughly, whispering how much he loved you against your temple.

Steve sat where you had left him, a haunted look on his face as he replayed teach and every sound you made over and over in his head. The moans he only dreamed of hearing while he made you feel so good but the name on your tongue wasn’t his and it never would be — Bucky had gotten to you first and bent you to his will, you were his. His cock twitched humiliatingly in his sweatpants.

Sigh, should I give poor Stevie his own Reader?

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes and Asks are always appreciated, however if you like this fix please consider reblogging to help it reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what I read and give me motivation to write more.

Thank you for reading~

[thefeverburningalive]

hi love!!

would you be willing to do a billie x fem!best friend!reader? just something sweet - it could either be platonic or them like being two clueless idiots in love, whatever you’d like!!

𝖲𝗉𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗒 𝖣𝖩

billie eilish x fem! reader

a/n: thank you so much for the request! here’s a short and cute little drabble, i hope you enjoy my love <3

genre: fluff

warnings: none!

my requests are open <3

⋆.˚ ⋆.˚✮˚.⋆ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10 ⋆.˚✮˚.⋆ ⋆.˚

singing, dancing, laughter, music. this was a typical thursday night for you and billie. it was routine, every thursday night billie comes to your apartment and spends the night. it was a totally normal best friend activity. “sooo what do you wanna listen to? i just started listening to this amazing album, have you ever heard of this singer billy eyelash?” you giggled while billie rolled her eyes playfully at your comments. “you’re sooo funny oh em gee!!” she spoke in a fake valley girl accent which made your stomach erupt with laughter. after the laughing died down you returned to the topic. “okay but actually what do you wanna listen to?” billie gave your question some thought before shrugging her shoulders. “just pick whatever.” you nodded at her response while connecting your phone to the speaker you kept in your living room. “welp i can’t decide either so we’re leaving it up to the dj.”

‘what’s up y/n, this is your dj x…’

upbeat music started to play through the speakers, and for the first few songs, you and billie just sat comfortably on your couch and talked. conversations where never awkward or uncomfortable with billie, she’s always been your person. it’d be hard to deny the fact that as your friendship progressed over the years- you found yourself becoming a bit smitten with your best friend. falling for your best friend was such a cliche, and you wouldn’t even entertain the thought. billie’s always had a flirtatious personality, so you could just never be certain how she felt about you. in turn you pushed those feelings deep down and reminded yourself that she’s too important in your life to lose over some silly crush.

about four songs in, pink pony club by chappell roan started playing, which billie immediately stood up and grabbed your arm. “dude dance with me right fucking now i LOVE this song.” she pulled you up before she even finished her sentance, making more laughs escape from your lips. the two of you jumped up and down and sang at the top of your lungs, using tv remotes as microphones and putting on the best worst performance ever. when one banger ended, another one began, which turned into fifteen minutes of chaotic dance karaoke. after the last song finished out, both of you where out of breath, but wore the biggest smile anyway.

‘next up, we’re gonna change the vibe to something slower..’

the sound of thrill of your love by elvis presley soon echoed throughout your apartment. being that this was a slow and romantic song, you go to sit down with a sigh- slightly sad the moment with billie was over. before your body could reach the couch, you feel soft fingers intertwine with yours. your eyes meet billie’s as you turn around. “what you don’t wanna slow dance with meeee?” billie spoke in a slightly joking tone, but it was mixed with something you couldn’t put your finger on. a smile spread across your lips as she pulled you back to the center of the room where you’d been before. “i guess you may have this dance eilish.” billie grins at your response. she takes a step closer, allowing you to be engulfed by the smell of her rich musky perfume. she gently places her hands on your hips, holding them as if she’d done it a million times before. “is this okay?” she spoke in a soft voice, barley above a whisper. the intimacy of the moment sent butterflies through your stomach. not trusting the stability of your voice, you simply nodded yes.

trying to casually go with the flow, you put your hands on her shoulders. the lack of space between you and the best friend you may or may not be in love with was making your heart rate spike. she smiled and hummed along with the song, slowly swaying the two of you back and fourth. you eventually eased into the moment, allowing yourself to relax and just go about naturally. billie noticed you start to relax which made her smile grow. she removed her hands and proceeded to twirl you, which caused you to chuckle. after your spin she placed her hands back onto your hips, pulling you even closer. heat started to spread across your cheeks, and you proceeded to look down to avoid her eye contact. her right arm slid up from your hip to cup your cheek- forcing you to hold eye contact. her icy blue eyes captivated yours. “billie..?” it felt like if you spoke any louder than a whisper, the moment would shatter like glass. without a word- billie leaned down and place a soft kiss apon your lips.

after the realization hit you, you closed your eyes and melted into the kiss. it was soft and gentle. you moved your arms to hang around her neck instead of her shoulders, and she once again pulled you impossibly closer. the kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like eons. the loss of her lips on yours caused you to open your eyes. it felt like your entire body was on fire from the amount of nervousness you felt. billie had a soft smile on her face as her thumb rubbed up and down on your cheek. “i’m glad i got this dance.” billie’s words pulled more giggles from your lips. “i’m glad i put on my dj.”

[bambiihee]

Mommy Seonghwa and don't ask who and don't ask why.

MOMMY, DEAREST. 박성화

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ NSFW + MDNI! park seonghwa x fem!reader • mommy kink (m. rec), soft dom!hwa, sub!reader, teasing, brat tamer!hwa, oral (f. rec), pussy slapping, dirty talk, vaginal fingering

[notes.] this honestly made me giggle so hard when i first got it?? okay baby i wont ask questions <3 usually mommy hwa isn’t my favorite thing ever? but seeing him in heels recently has been Doing Things to me… model!hwa when i catch you… (this is a crazy thing to make as my first ateez post. wow.)

to celebrate 400 followers, i'm opening my inbox for drabble requests!! please send your thoughts here!

it was funny, at first.

well, it actually wasn’t ever funny to seonghwa, but he didn’t have the guts to tell you that.

you were just copying his members, repeating a silly nickname that they threw at him every once in a while. when they did it, it never bothered him in the slightest, and he would just laugh along with the rest of them. it was just a little joke.

but his members had only ever called him mom or mother. They had never called him mommy.

the first time you said it, seonghwa had been sure he had misheard you. but no, when he asked you to repeat yourself you did loudly and clearly; “could you grab that for me please, mommy?”

seonghwa's brain short circuted.

you and the other boys howled with laughter at his shocked expression, wide-eyed and stuttering out a near-illegible “y-yeah, sure—“, just barely able to pull himself together to save face in front of everyone. he gives a halfhearted chuckle, but inside his mind was reeling.

it wasn’t that he hated it, it was that he liked it a little too much.

every time he hears it his stomach flips and his ears turn red, something about the way the world flows from your mouth so sweetly and naturally that made his thoughts go crazy. his sweet little doll, pretty face so innocent when you're calling him something like... that.

something so dominant.

Maybe that makes him weird, the nickname "mommy" making him feel powerful instead of emasculated. How it makes him feel so dominant over you, fills him with the desire to take care of you. he finds it embarrassing, to a degree, but he can't deny how the word and the thoughts that come with it makes his cock twitch in his pants.

for the first time, seonghwa wishes that he was better at hiding things from you, because he's certain you've started to catch on.

again, and again, and again, seonghwa hears the nickname fall from your mouth.

mommy. mommy. mommy.

"mommy, please?" you beg him one time, looking up at him with big wet eyes, asking for him to buy you boba of all things, and it takes everything he had not to cum in his pants.

and when he folds and hands you his card, because he's utterly powerless when it comes to spoiling you, you shoot him the prettiest smile and say; "thank you, mommy."

he was at his limit, and that was before you took it into the bedroom.

because with you laid out underneath him, late one night with his head buried between your plush thighs, you cry out to him, "fuck, mommy, more!"

seonghwa groans into your pussy, unable to hold back just how much he enjoys the nickname when he's been blessed with what it sounds like when you moan. "more?" he chuckles, gently biting down on your clit, "my, you're greedy tonight."

he dives in anyways, just like you knew he would, always eager to please even when he's teasing you for being bratty. "i knew you liked it when i called you that." you giggle breathlessly, but your laughter cuts into a choked moan, seonghwa's long fingers wrapping tight around your throat as he spreads your pussy lips wide with his other hand.

"and still you said it every damn second." he tsks, dark hooded eyes looking up at you from between your legs. "been a bad girl, haven't you, my love? trying to get mommy to snap and punish you?"

you swallow hard, and seonghwa can feel your throat bobbing beneath his fingers. "hwa--"

"that's not my name, is it?" he pulls away from you just enough to land a wet slap to your cunt, hard enough to make your thighs tremble and your lips fall open in a broken squeal. he soothes the sting with his tongue sliding wetly up between your folds, stopping to rub tight circles against your oversensitive clit. his hot breaths fan your leaking entrance, painfully empty, twitching needily around nothing but air. "there's something else i'd like you to scream tonight."

his lips suction around your clit, and two long fingers slide deep into your hole, curling deliciously against your sweet spot with a practiced ease. you throw your head back against the pillows, your eyes blown wide and your mouth hung open;

"o-oh my god-- mommy!"