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#crazy what brainrot can do ._.
kaiser1ns · 1 month
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You thought it was over? It's not. I'm not done yet, understood. (Imagine Endo saying this like aaaaaaaa)
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i think i have a type nom nom men with tattoo sleeves. APPRECIATING ENDO'S ARMS BECAUSE HE DESERVES IT. also adding my other man jeon jungkook because why not (⁠。⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠。⁠)⁠ノ⁠♡
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LOOK AT THOSE MUSCLES LOOK AT HIM OH MY GAWD IM IN THE OUTER SPACE SCREAMING HIS NAME UNTIL MY VOICE REACHES ANOTHER GALAXY, ANOTHER DIMENSION, ANOTHER MULTIVERSE.
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tsukk1 · 2 years
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when you run into the vigilante who incapacitated you the night before 🏃
based on my lovely friend gia’s ( @sascake ) incredible fic starring pro hero!shouto and vigilante!izuku, “i’ll be your biggest kept secret and your biggest mistake” which you all should read bc i promise you won’t think about anything else after...
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thesunoficarus1 · 10 months
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now hold on. I'm currently watching episode 14 season 14 of supernatural. so this episode, they're hunting a demigod that can see the future right? fine. normal episode. but this is what is really getting to my head. so dean and cas are at the scene of the crime. after the trucker was killed. the demigod left a note for dean that says that he looked into the future or whatever and saw him standing alone reading the note at the truck. cas asks why he didn't talk about him in the note. dean answers "maybe you're not his type."
okay, fine. totally normal response. except for the fact that literally the scene before entails the demigod essentially tricking this trucker into thinking that for a ride he'll do "anything" (anything being sex)
now with that context, WHAT THE FUCK COULD HE POSSIBLY MEAN BY THAT?? that cas isn't gay? which, for one, yes he is. but that's not the point. if that's what he means, that implies that dean thinks that he IS this demigods type. and how did the demigod lure the trucker? gay sex. thank you for coming to my ted talk.
AND! you want to know who else he kisses in this episode? CAS. so apparently he IS his type.
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untimelyambition · 11 months
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i am begging on my hands and knees for jon matteson and bryce charles to sing a song together. since i first watched npmd, every single day without fail i have thought about their harmonies together in hatchet town (“if he gets me next i could be three” and “fits the bill, he fits the bill”) literally the sickest harmonies in the entire show, i turn into a little gremlin every time i hear them. their voices sound SO good together it actually makes me a little ill. my favourite song my favourite line my favourite harmonies, their voices blend perfectly and i am so desperate to hear them sing a duet to hear them singing together again pls pls please pls pls pls. pls.
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xiewho · 6 months
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hi guys please send me art reqs so i have something to draw while im in the car for a few millennia
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ectoplasmer · 2 years
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y'all ever feel so much love for your f/o that you just get moved to literal tears or am i just a mess
#art is making me feel things once again#marigoldshipping#<---- mima brainrot hours which is terrible timing because i need to be awake in like six hours#but i am over here. kicking my legs in bed every five seconds#i love him so much he's a literal safety hazard akjjhdsh :(#he's also just a huge nerd and literally just a big loser but/lh#aaaa stopp making me FEEL THINGS it's horrible#i need to be sleeping and not generating tears because my heart goes crazy over fictional characters#literally smiling like an idiot just thinking about him while typing this#he's just. >_<#oh terrible another moment where i can't convey what i'm thinking#he's just... he's such a nerddd aaaaa#his snarkiness his obvious need to dramaticize things even though he *claims* that's a thing that only marik does now (he's lying)#his attempts at seeming much more stoic than he actually is his poorly hidden attempts at trying not to seem like he cares too much#how he can be so arrogant and sharp one second and try so hard to be responsible and gentle the next#how he tries to act like he isn't as much as a wreck as the rest of us but he definitely is#i don't. even know what i'm trying to say. i don't think i ever really do when it comes to any of them#they make me so stupidly incoherent i can't even think correctly right now#i just... i love how i've managed to get past his walls. that i get to see more of him now#not just the scary and daunting part that he used to be. not just the level headed and intimidating part. not just the upset and angry part#i get to see the sides of him where he makes dumb and ignorant mistakes. i get to see him when he's calm. i get to see him when he's happy#i get to see him when he's sad and i get to see him when he's completely vulnerable#i get to see him in every mood and in every emotion. i get to see every part.#and i love all the parts of him. all the mess and fuss and the wrongs and the rights and the good and the bad#all of it is completely lovable to me. he's completely lovable to me.#i just. aaaa sobbing crying sniffling into my hands HE'S SOOOO#god damnit melvin you're making your girlfriend cry STOP BEING SO YOU PLEASE#he's. so pretty and handsome and bbdbfhfbjdffjdfd#i've been talking about my f/os so much recently i'm so sorry ><#gonna. try and fall asleep but my heart is literally beating so hard right now skjfkjds
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kiingbiing · 1 year
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koskela-knights · 6 months
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3 years covering 3 different resident evil games to write 72 fics for these combined
Vs
3ish months to write 75 fanfics for AW2 🤪 (and still going rest assured lmao)
You’re witnessing me in fandom overdrive lmao
Dreading the emptiness after this aw2 hyperfixation
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ayyy-pee · 3 months
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ℍ𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕟 𝔸𝕗𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕤
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Discord 18+ - Twitter
Pairing: Sanemi Shinazugawa x Female Reader
Summary: But you can see - in those deep violet eyes of his - three little words swimming behind them that he's been itching to say to you for quite some time now. You want to say them too, have for as long as you can remember. 
But you're both Hashira. It's already enough that you both keep towing this dangerous line, finding yourselves in this exact predicament more often than not.
or
Sanemi is just so down bad for reader.
Story Warning: Smut, Alley Sex, P in V sex, Profanity bc c'mon...it's me, Vaginal Sex, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Sanemi being bad at feelings, Secret Flings, Secretly in Love, Sneaking Around, Some canon Giyuu hate from Sanemi, Reader is a Hashira too!
Art by: krit961 (Twitter)
A/N: This is my first time writing for this fandom ever, but the Sanemi brainrot has been so INSANELY strong I just had to write SOMETHING up. It's nothing crazy and I'm rusty because it's been awhile for me but ugh. THIS ONE IS FOR YOU SANEMI!!!! Also shoutout to @lemonlover1110 for helping me with the title!
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“We should head back…” You sigh, breaths coming rapidly. “Before…” A quiet gasp interrupts your words when you feel the sting of teeth sinking into your neck. “Before the others notice…”
”Fuck the others,” a gravelly voice growls into the juncture of your neck. Large hands grasp your thighs hard, holding them wide open as a hard form sits between them. “Don’t give a fuck if they notice, either. Maybe Tomioka will stop staring like a lovesick puppy if he figures it out.”
He buries his face further into your neck, grumbling against your skin. Something along the lines of “I hate that guy” and “I should gouge his eyes out”.
Your fingers slip into the snowy white tresses at the nape of his neck, gripping hard and pulling so that you can see his face. Pretty, long lashes cover hooded purple eyes that soften the moment they catch sight of you. The softness is such a contrast to the deep, pitted scars scattered along his face. But he’s beautiful all the same.
“Sanemi…”
At the sound of his name on your lips, he rolls his eyes. “If you’re gonna defend him–”
“Sanemi –”
“I don’t wanna hear it.” 
Your lips set into a deep frown, and Sanemi matches your expression, stubborn as ever. “What is your issue with Giyuu anyway?”
Sanemi scoffs, “Giyuuuuuu,” he mocks with a nasally tone. “Stop talking about him.”
“You brought him up!”
His mouth finds yours, rough and hungry, all consuming. It’s all teeth and tongue, nipping at your lips because he knows they’ll still be just swollen enough by the time you both get back. He’s marking his territory in his own way, as much as he can. Possessive and jealous, even when he knows he has no reason to be, no right to be. But he can’t help it.
You don’t belong to him, you don’t belong to anyone. Because you know it wouldn’t be smart to commit to any one person. Not in this line of work.
Sanemi has you pressed against the bamboo fencing in the darkest part of an alleyway, just outside of the Ubuyashiki Mansion with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. It’s your usual meeting spot when you’ve been separated for some time, both of you too impatient to wait until the early morning hours when the Hashira meeting has finally ended to see each other.
“Fuck me,” Sanemi groans against your lips. He places an arm beneath your ass, holding you up as his other hand hikes your uniform skirt up to your waist. “Swear this gets shorter every time I see you.”
A giggle slips past your lips, because it absolutely gets shorter every time he sees you. You do it on purpose because you know it drives Sanemi up the wall to see little peeks of your ass and not be able to do anything about it. Makes him even crazier that he knows others can see it, too, and he can’t do anything but shoot death glares at anyone who dares to let their gazes roam. 
But you can’t let Sanemi know that. So you pout, laying your palms against his exposed chest and tracing his scars with your fingertips. You watch as his eyes flutter, sensitive to the touch. “You don’t like it? I can always request a change in uniform…”
Sanemi groans, leaning forward and kissing you hard. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” He presses his groin into your, evidence of his arousal against your soaking core. “You look so good in it.” His hand slinks between your bodies, thumb going straight to your clit, where he presses down, a shit eating grin spreading across his face when your back arches off the wall and you moan. “Look even better in it when you’re making that face.”
Your nails dig into his scars and Sanemi’s reaction is automatic, hips rocking forward roughly and now you’re both whining into each other’s mouths. You’re sure if anyone came across the two of you, you’d appear as this horny couple who couldn’t bother to wait until they got home to dry hump each other. And outside of the couple part, they’d be correct. Sanemi ruts against you, his erection running deliciously along your clothed cunt. Your lips slot together, tongues deep in each other’s mouths as Sanemi grunts into yours, and you keen into his.
There’s not much time to waste, you’re meant to be at the mansion soon. It would be suspicious if one Hashira, let alone two were missing when the Master arrived and if asked, the crows would spill your secrets in a heartbeat. You need to hurry. And Sanemi feels the pressure too. Even though he loves to annoy you pretending he doesn’t care about being late or cluing in the others on what’s going on, he would never disrespect the Master. 
Pausing his movements and leaning back to peer down at you, Sanemi sighs. He’s so painfully hard, his length throbbing within the confines of his uniform as he drinks in the sight of your kiss swollen lips, just the way he wanted them. And your face flushed, pupils blown wide as all hell with arousal. He’s sure he looks much the same, knowing you’re just as possessive as he is, though you hardly show it. It’s simply easier to hide your little territorial marks, the scratches you leave on him when they blend in so well among the rest of his scars.
Your fingers ghost along his chest, finding his nipples and you pinch the hardening buds, smirking when you see the way Sanemi’s eyes almost roll back. He can’t take another fucking second of this teasing. Not after he hasn’t seen you in who knows how long. He wants you badly that even your voice is enough to make him ruin his pants right now. It’s the semi-annual Hashira meeting tonight and he’s not willing to wait until Himejima is done yapping to have you.
Sanemi tugs at his uniform, getting his pants down just barely enough to pull his cock out. The tip is angry, red, just as desperate to be inside you as Sanemi. It glistens with his desire for you and you only.
“Gonna fuck you now, okay?” He tells you, hooking a finger into your undergarments and pulling them to the side. He runs his digits through your folds, hissing when he feels how drenched you are. It helps when he slips two fingers into you, mouth falling open when you throw your head back with a cry, your walls clamping around him. This Sanemi’s favorite part. Watching the way your brows knit together, how your pretty teeth dig into your plush bottom lip to bite back your moans, how your pussy makes the most lewd noises as he pumps his fingers into you.
You are glorious.
Always have been. It’s why he can never get enough of you. You’re insanely strong, clearly. You’re a Hashira, standing alongside him and some of the strongest in the corps. But you’re also blessed with a beauty that rivals every woman Sanemi has ever laid eyes on. He’s drawn to you in ways he cannot explain, ways he doesn’t need an explanation for. It’s why he hates catching the little glances from a certain other Hashira. Not that anyone knows what you two have going on, but all Sanemi knows is that he –
“Sanemi…” you whimper, eyes gazing softly at him. “Please. I need you.”
And he doesn’t need to hear more. His lips crash against yours as he swiftly pulls his fingers from you, gripping his length tightly and pumping himself. “How bad do you need me?” He asks. Because he needs you so fucking bad right now he can’t think straight. His mind is foggy, his body burns with his lust for you. 
“So, so bad, Sanemi,” you loop your arms around his neck, kissing him just as eagerly as he kisses you. “I need you more than anything.”
Sanemi groans, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance. But his eyes never leave your face, even as the tip breaches your walls and makes him want to shut his eyes and focus on not cumming embarrassingly fast. He wants to see you, watch the way you lose yourself when he splits you open. The thought of it has him pulsing painfully in his hand. He rolls his hips forward, slowly, gritting his teeth when your wet warmth envelops him. “Still so goddamn tight for me,” he grunts. “Your greedy cunt is sucking me right in, fuck.”
Your nails dig into the fabric of Sanemi’s shirt, hanging on for dear life as Sanemi pushes deeper and deeper into you. As many times as you’ve been in this position with Sanemi, it always feels like the first time. He’s so long and thick, you have to adjust every time he slips into you.
“Oh my god,” you whine, and Sanemi pauses.
“You okay?”
“Yes…just…fuck me, please, Sanemi…”
He grips your thighs, pushing you back against the bamboo fencing to hold you in place. And then he thrusts forward, bottoming out in one swift motion and you both cry out in unison, the overwhelming pleasure making you both shudder.
“Fucking hell,” Sanemi sighs. He places his hands beneath your ass, keeping you still while he rears his hips back, only to slam back into you over and over. He pounds into your pussy at a relentless pace. Half because you’re on one hell of a time crunch, and half because he can’t help it. He feels animalistic when it comes to you, fucking into you mindlessly because it just feels so goddamn incredible. Every thrust feels better than the last, your warm walls clenching around him with each snap of his hips.
“I can’t go that long without you again…” Sanemi croaks, catching himself because he feels he’s getting too sentimental. “...without your pretty little pussy.”
“God, just say you missed me, you asshole.” You tell him, moving your own hips to meet his strokes. Though your words come out as more of this pathetic whimper than an actual demand and it makes Sanemi’s hips stutter. Just briefly. His hands on your ass lift you up before pulling you to sink back down on him.
Sanemi chuckles, leaning back just enough so that he can look between your bodies, watch the sticky strings of your slick connecting you, watch how his dick disappears. “Did you miss me?”
“Yes!” You cry when Sanemi hits a particularly tender spot. “Shit, I missed you so much, Sanemi.”
His brows rise, a little surprised by the confession, and a loud one at that. “Oh?” He kisses you hard, keeping his pace. Your confession turns him on more than he’s willing to admit. He missed you, too, though it’s harder for him to say so. Instead he fucks all of his feelings into you. 
How he misses you when you’re apart, because his thoughts are dangerously distracted wondering what you’re doing, who you’re with, if you’re alive.
How he wishes you’d be assigned missions together, so he could watch you tear a demon's head straight from their shoulders. Then find somewhere to stay the night so he can fuck you on every surface possible (He’s done this with you before. He wants to do it with you again).
How he wishes he could open his mouth and tell you how he truly feels.
But those feelings have always been foreign to him. Sanemi is lucky you understand his silence, that you accept his actions for what they are and let them speak for him. You accept everything he gives you happily. And as you tighten your legs around his waist, as you quietly let your pleasure be heard by him and him alone, as your walls clamp down around him with your release, convulsing and pulling him into you, Sanemi can only thank the Gods for every shitty circumstance that led him to you.
Does he deserve you? Probably not. Does he care? Absolutely not.
Because you chose him. This secret…whatever this is. Out of anyone in this world, you chose Sanemi.
And it’s enough to send him over the edge with you, gasping desperately for air as he tries to find your lips again. He closes his eyes, pushing himself as deep as he can as his release floods your walls. It’s so much, a build up over time and he knows his seed will be dripping out of your core before he’s even had a chance to pull out. It’s always this way. Because Sanemi doesn’t bother entertaining other women when he’s away. He only wants you. So the second he’s within the same vicinity as you, he has literally so much to give.
You never seem to mind.
Sanemi breaks the messy kiss, placing gentle, sweet pecks to your cheek before he leans back to stare down at you. That fucked out look on your face almost has him getting hard again. But you don’t have time for that, so he just watches you and you watch him. And he’s glad for the fact that you can’t see the way his mind is racing with only thoughts of you, thoughts of this feeling he’s buried so deep trying to claw its way up Sanemi’s throat.
But you can see - in those deep violet eyes of his - three little words swimming behind them that he's been itching to say to you for quite some time now. You want to say them too, have for as long as you can remember. 
But you're both Hashira. It's already enough that you both keep towing this dangerous line, finding yourselves in this exact predicament more often than not.
It's a little more than ridiculous actually, the way neither of you can resist sneaking glances, hiding touches, making excuses to leave on missions together. You and Sanemi…you're drawn to each other, your strings of fate knotted tightly together. It’s become impossible to leave each other alone. You don't think you'd be able to resist what you're doing even if you met as two civilians on the street. Hell, you couldn't resist each other all those years ago when you were low ranked corps members. 
Training was a confusing hell back then, every session filled to the brim with fury and a strange and thick tension neither of you could put your finger on until way down the line. It wasn't until one particular training session when Sanemi had you pinned to the ground, his strong hips pressing into yours, that you then understood what that tension was. The evidence was apparent in the way Sanemi's hard stare bore into yours, how the heat between your legs began to ignite when you felt Sanemi’s thick length pulse against you, how something akin to a whimper fell from his lips when his gaze snapped down quickly just in time to watch the hem of your uniform skirt slip further, enough for him to see the way your bodies seemed to just…fit.
Then his eyes were back on your face, your lips, now parted as harsh breaths escaped you. Your eyes, wide and wanting, peered up at him from beneath your lashes and Sanemi remembers this being the very moment he stopped denying what he had always known. You are breathtakingly beautiful. He also recalls this being the moment he knew he was done for. 
So when your hands found themselves placed against his not yet scarred chest, balling the sweaty fabric of his shirt in your fists…when he leaned closer and curiously rolled his hips against your clothed core and heard you let out the most captivating sound he'd ever heard, a sound he's been obsessed with since he's heard it…when he pressed his lips lightly to yours and you whispered into his mouth “I've never done this before”.
Yeah, Sanemi knew then that he was fucked. 
And though that night was not the night you'd given your virginity to Sanemi - that would happen years later - it was the night Sanemi tasted you for the first time. And he devoured you time and time again like a man starved. He would have you any way and any time that he could, if you allowed him. 
That was only the beginning.
Not much has changed in the years that you have been keeping up this arrangement with Sanemi. It's the only thing that you both keep coming back to, the only thing that feels solid. Though you both know it's stupid to feel as if anything in this line of work is not at risk. 
Every night that you lie awake, together or not, is a reminder. Every semi-annual meeting with the Hashira, mentally taking a headcount of everyone is a reminder. Every Hashira meeting without Rengoku, without Tengen is a reminder. 
Death is always standing just outside your door.
You can't afford to delude yourselves into thinking you can freely love and care for each other. Not until this thousand year war is over. Not until you are free to roam beneath the stars together without the scent of blood, the cries of pain and loss tainting the night. 
So, as you and Sanemi slip into the gates of the Ubuyashiki Mansion, your fingers brush together just briefly - a silent display of those words you dare not mutter aloud. You make your way to your respective places amongst the strongest of the Demon Slayer corps; you, next to Tomioka and Sanemi beside the Serpent Hashira. And while you quietly mingle with those around you before the Master appears, you miss the hushed conversation further down the line. 
“You reek of her,” Obanai remarks. Resting around his shoulders, his snake whips his tongue out at Sanemi in almost an agreement. 
“Shut up.”
“You're more tense than normal. Did you finally confess? Did she reject your advances?”
“I said shut up,” Sanemi growls. The chatter of everyone is already grinding on his nerves and your voice is not helping. He wants to look at you. See what - or who - has you giggling and speaking so sweetly that it's making him sick. It shouldn't matter. You can talk to whoever you want.
‘Except Tomioka,’ Sanemi thinks. But it's only because he's so clearly in love with you! He can't understand how you don't see it.
“Looks like Tomioka is making his move,” Obanai notes quietly, like he read Sanemi’s mind.
Sanemi can hear the teasing tone in his voice. The asshole is really getting a kick out of this. Even still, it's enough to have Sanemi’s gaze snapping over to you just in time to see Tomioka and you smiling sweetly at each other, nodding and whispering amongst yourselves. 
It shouldn't make Sanemi as upset as it does, just seeing you enjoy yourself with him, seeing him enjoy himself with you. Your smiles, your laughs, your kindness. It should only be for Sanemi. But you're a kind person…too kind. So kind you'd allow a monster like himself to fall in love with you.
Tomioka is much kinder, more understanding, better for you than Sanemi could ever be. 
And so, seeing you and him bond…Well, it fills Sanemi with a rage so hot he finds himself standing, eyes locked on the back of your head. You must feel it, his gaze beating down on you like rays of heat from the sun itself, because you fall silent and your head snaps around. Your eyes find Sanemi's immediately, gaze wide and questioning. 
Tomioka looks confused as well. ‘Good,’ Sanemi thinks. He can't wait to see the look on the Water Hashira's face when Sanemi does what he's been wanting to, but admittedly too scared to do for so long – claim you as his in front of everyone.
He lets the fumes of his anger fuel him, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. And then he's opening his mouth to speak, tongue on the roof of his mouth as all other chatter dies and the eyes of the other Hashira land on him. 
“I lo-”
“The Master has arrived!” Twin voices call in unison. 
And it's like muscle memory for every single Hashira, falling in line on one knee with their heads bowed as the Master approaches. His arrival extinguishes the fire that burned hazardously within Sanemi just seconds before, soothes the scorching left behind. His head is clear now, the reminder of why you both choose to keep your meetings between just you two evident.
You have a job to do. Defeating this evil comes before all things, even you. Though with the way Sanemi almost blew the lid off of your secret, he's not sure how much longer can go on without openly being with you. 
But it sparks something within him - a new fire. One that burns solely for one purpose. 
To defeat Kibutsuji Muzan…so that he can finally, and fully have you. 
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fettuccin-e · 1 year
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Honey-Sweet
Description: You're far too sweet for him. He's determined not to ruin you, despite the fact that he seems to ruin everything, and everything about you just seems to make his fantasies worse. But one night can change everything, apparently, when Miguel finally sees how completely not sweet you can be.
Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, hoooh boy a lotta smut okay, oral (m and f recieving), unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), riding, doggy, missionary, some fluff bc i'm not completely deranged, light degradation (w/c: 2.1K)
A/N: oh lord the Miguel brainrot is REAL folks okay this is fucking crazy. I WANT THIS MAN TO **** ** **** * ****** ******* okay he has me fuckin frothing at the DAMN MOUTH actin like a DAMN DOG okay so please enjoy a bit of a miguel smutfest
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You’re too fucking sweet for him. That’s what he tells himself. Miguel O’Hara doesn’t do sweet.
You’re fucking sweet with the way you bring cookies in for the other Spiders that accompany you on missions. You’re sweet in how you brought in a ridiculous hand-made baby blanket for Mayday when Peter first brought her in, emblazoned with his Spider-Man logo to wrap her up tight in. You’d kissed the baby on the head, whispering tiny sweet nothings into her bright red hair, and Miguel had had to hide the emergence of his fangs at the sight of it.
You’re too sweet, too kind for him. You organize little movie nights at the office, you make him stay a little longer on missions so you can see the tourist spots from different universes. And the way you look at him, all wide-eyed and bright and smiling… it does things to him.
It makes him want to bring you flowers, kiss you on the cheek. It makes him want to plan fucking candle-lit dinners and bake cupcakes with you. All sweet, too sweet.
But, because he apparently can’t stop himself, you also want to make him do decidedly not sweet things. Like grab at your tits through your suit, pinching your nipples until your knees go weak and you whimper his name in your gorgeous little voice. Like force you down on your knees, fucking his cock into your hot mouth while tears leak down your cheeks. Like tying you up with his webs, eating your pretty cunt out while you struggle against them, whining that “it’s too much, too much Miguel.” Like fucking you deep, so fucking deep on his cock, making you squeeze around him while you scream for him, beg for him to fill you up with cum. He thinks about watching it leak out of your achy pussy, dripping down your thighs.
But you’re so goddamn sweet, too gorgeous and lovely, and he can’t ruin you, he can’t. 
So when you finally wear him down, finally get him to go to coffee with you, he tries to be just as sweet as you. You hold his fucking hand, you kiss him on the cheek. You smile into his mouth as his lips meet yours in front of your apartment door. Miguel swears that his heart will pop with how much it swells when you’re near him.
He brings you flowers, walks you to your door, brings you lunch while you’re filing post-mission paperwork. And God, it’s beautiful. It’s fantastic and bright and so wonderfully domestic that Miguel wonders if he’s died, gone to some heaven he doesn’t deserve. He’s determined to revel in the domesticity of this… thing he’s created with you, his disgusting fantasies be damned.
He doesn’t like to think about how he has to fuck his hand after he drops you off at your house, his lips still burning with the touch of your soft, soft kiss. He thinks about how your lips would look stretched around his dick.
He’s content. He’s happy. For the first time in so fucking long, he’s happy. And he’ll happily tug on his dick by himself for the rest of damn time if it means that he gets to revel in your soft, pretty, wonderful sweetness for a little bit longer. He will not ruin you.
But.
As he kisses you softly in front of your apartment, the both of you still suited up from your latest mission, you tug him closer. You pull him down into your hungry mouth, and you lick into him like you’re starving for it. He can’t help how he growls at the feeling of it, his big hands coming to clutch at your hips. God, you’re pretty, fucking addicting with the way your tongue tangles with his and how you whimper when his hands cup your ass, tugging you up just that extra inch.
“Take me to bed, Miguel,” you gasp between feverish kisses, and fuck, he’s gone.
He hauls you into his arms, and his knees almost go weak at the way you wrap your thighs tightly around his middle, the way you lick into his mouth all over again.
And Miguel has spent so much time in his head, thinking, no, knowing that you’re sweeter than goddamn pie. It’s in every fucking breath you take, every moment he spends with you. 
But that night, as he lays you onto the bed, gently, gently like you deserve, he learns that you’re not as sweet as he thinks you are.
Not at all.
Not with the way you roll him over with your strength, begging for him to disengage his suit, looking at him like you want to devour him as it dissolves around him, leaving him bare to your gaze. You graze a reverent hand up his chest as he heaves under you, whispering, “God, can’t believe I’ve waited this long to have you like this. You’re so pretty, Miguel.” 
Pretty. Pretty? He can’t be the pretty one, no, not when you’re unzipping your own suit, and he can see everything. Every inch of supple, soft skin. Your nipples, hard and peaked and begging for his touch. Your pretty, pretty pussy; he can see how you’re practically dripping, the wetness between your legs glistening in the soft lamplight.
And you’re not sweet, not sweet at all, when you nip and suck little marks down his chest and abs, grinning up at him like a damn siren when he gasps at your touch. Fuck, you’re the opposite of everything he thought when you take his cock into your mouth, bobbing deeper, deeper until you just can’t anymore, jacking the rest of his cock while you kiss and lick and suck at him.
You grab his hand with your free one, and pull it into your hair. You pull up from his cock, and Christ, there’s a line of your spit that connects you to his throbbing tip, and Miguel thinks that he might die. 
“Fuck my face, baby?” you rasp, and yes, that’s it, Miguel is going to fucking die here. But he can’t refuse you, with those gorgeous eyes gazing up at him, the tip of his cock on your tongue. 
It’s not sweet, not at all, when he forces your head down on his cock, pressing himself deep into your pretty little mouth. And you moan like you love it, just taking it as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. Your spit runs down his shaft, your little whimpers and the way you choke when the tip jams into the back of your throat all echoing in his ears. 
He can’t hear himself, but God, you can. You relish the way he growls every time he pushes you down deep, telling you that, “You’re such a good girl, hermosa. Mierda, mi nena perfecta.” Your pussy throbs.
He isn’t soft, isn’t gentle like he told himself to be when he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, and Miguel groans as he pulls you up by your hair, dragging your spit-slick lips to his mouth. He can taste himself on your lips, all sticky and hot and puffy. 
You whine against his mouth, murmuring little pleas of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” into him, and his cock twitches, red and aching desperately for your touch. 
“Have to make sure you’re ready,” he mumbles, even though he aches, even though his claws threaten to show. 
“Nononono,” you whine, and then you sit back, hovering over his cock, fucking monstrous compared to the tiny opening of your dripping pussy, and press down.
Fuck, it’s like heaven inside you, all perfect and wet and hot, and you whine, muttering that, “It’s so fucking big, God, stretches me so perfect, so fucking perfect, so much bigger than I could have dreamed-“
“Nena,” he interrupts you with a hoarse groan of his own, “gotta stop, ‘s gonna, gonna hurt you, oh fuck-“ 
And you grin at him again, filthy and raunchy and not sweet at all, as you say “I fucking want it to hurt, Miguel. Wanna feel you in the morning, wanna feel you all the time.” And you press yourself the rest of the way down his thick cock, gasping for air, your hips twitching like they can’t decide whether to run away from the sensation or seek it. 
“Fuck, wanna feel you all the time,” you murmur and Miguel can’t decide whether you’re actually talking to him or not. “Want you to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe, fill me up so fucking perfect, God, oh my God, ‘m so fucking full,” you roll your hips forward in desperate little circles, a weak attempt at getting him deeper. An endless stream of “fuck me, fuck me, please please please,” starts to leave your lips again, and you sound so desperate, so needy, that Miguel can’t help but roll you over, pinning you underneath him, and fucking his cock so hard and so deep into you that you dig your fingers into his back and sob.
He does what you ask that night. He fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, until tears leak from your eyes and your bed is soaked with a mixture of yours and his cum. And God, you scream for him, begging him for more, deeper, harder.
The slick sounds of your bodies meeting over and over must be heard all over the building, but Miguel can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s able to fuck you like this, disgusting and filthy.
How could a sweet, lovely, soft thing like you love this so much?
From that night on, it seems that all bets are off. From that night on, it seems that you make it a mission to show him exactly how not sweet you are.
Fuck, there’s no sweetness to you when you hump your hips into his face the next morning, practically smothering him in your pussy as you squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that he’s sure they’ll bruise, and licks up your juices. Your pussy is honey-sweet on his tongue.
You’re not soft when you ride him into the mattress, throwing yourself down onto his cock and moaning as you stretch yourself out. You drag your nails down his chest as you bounce desperately in his lap, and Miguel kind of hopes you draw blood.
There isn’t an ounce of innocence when you sink down on your knees under his desk when he’s in a goddamn meeting, pulling his cock out and sucking at him until his claws shoot out and leave splintering holes in his desk. He has to hide his fangs from the video camera when you choke. 
When he finally, finally cuts the meeting short, feeding the other Spider-Men some bullshit excuse about a new anomaly, he presses your head to the base of his cock and shoots his cum down your throat. He means it as a punishment, but when he pulls you off his cock, and sees you with your eyes all glassy and smiling lazily, he can’t help but bend you over the desk and finger fuck you until you cry and scream and beg for him to fuck you with his cock.
You are so far from sweet when he fucks you on the floor after a mission, tensions run too taut and adrenaline racing through your veins. You throw your ass back onto him with every thrust into your sloppy cunt, moaning as he growls, “Such a fucking slut, can’t get enough of this cock, huh? My sweet, sweet girl, what would the rest of the Spiders say if they knew what a fucking whore you are for me?” 
And when you choke on your spit around your screams, he leans down to whisper that, “I know, cariño, I know. I'm gonna take care of you,” before he shoves your face down into the carpet and mounts you, shoving his fat cock down into you again and again and again.
Miguel is positive that he’s died and gone to heaven.
It’s not to say that you’re not the same, sweet girl who brings cookies to the office and holds his hand. No, you’re the same, perfect, sweet girl, only that you let him thank you for the cookies by eating you out on the kitchen floor. You hold his hand while you jerk his cock and swallow his moans with your kiss.
You’re just the right kind of sweet for him.
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starkwlkr · 2 months
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Oh my, imagine you and Hugh have a teen daughter who is like 16 or something, and she goes live and just keeps talking in brainrot terms while you don’t understand what she’s saying.😭😂
ps: love your writing💗
HOT TO GO! | hugh jackman
an: thank you anon for this request, it was so fun to write!! love youuuu
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“And there’s my mom . . .” Olivia had walked into your room where you were doing your makeup at your vanity. She held her phone in her hand pointing it at you. “‘Mother is mothering’ I know right? She’s out here serving cunt on a Tuesday afternoon.”
Serving cunt? Did you hear that right?
You stopped applying the red lipstick on your lips and looked at your daughter. “I’m a cunt?”
Immediately the teen bursted out laughing. “No, oh my god! I didn’t mean you. You look great, that’s what I meant.”
The comments on Olivia’s instagram live were going crazy. They found it funny that their favorite actress was clueless.
natsyelena y/n is so adorable 😭
y/nupdates please tell her she’s mother
“The comments are telling you that you’re mother.” Olivia said to you. Again, you were confused.
“I know.” You reply. “I have three kids.”
Olivia chuckled. She then set her phone against the vanity mirror and posed while you continued doing your makeup. It was date night and Hugh had gotten you tickets to see Stevie Nicks perform. Olivia was heartbroken she wouldn’t be able to see her favorite singer, but Hugh promised her they would go see her at her next show as a family.
“What does that mean?” You pointed at a comment that caught your eye.
y/nstyle donatella VERSACE 💜
Olivia looked at the comment and laughed. “It’s a meme, mom. Donatella commented that on Bella Hadid’s post.”
Another comment caught Olivia’s attention.
xmenarchive SHOW HER THE JOSH HUTCHERSON EDIT
Olivia gasped then grabbed your phone since hers was on live. She searched on YouTube for the specific video and showed it to her mom eager to see her reaction. As whistle played and pictures of Josh Hutcherson appeared, a smile formed on your face.
“It’s Josh! I haven’t seen him in so long.”
“Wait what?” Olivia paused the video.
“He visited Jennifer on the set of X-men when I was visiting your dad and we hung out. Your brothers were also there too.”
“And you never told me?!” Olivia yelled. “The mom lore is insane.”
After learning more about you, the comments wanted you to react to THE Pedro Pascal, Steve Harrington, and other specific edits. Olivia gladly showed them to you.
Once you saw the Pedro edit, you giggled. “I’m going to send that to Pedro.”
“Guys, hide the fanfics!” Olivia shouted at her phone.
After coming back from the corner store with snacks, Hugh walked into your room where Olivia was teaching you the HOT TO GO! dance. He looked so interested in what you two were doing.
“You can take me hot to go!” Olivia finished the dance. “Look, the comments are saying you ate that up.”
“What the fuck?” Hugh said when he heard that.
“Guys, don’t worry I’ll teach her everything,” Olivia took the phone from the vanity and saw her dad with snacks. Some comments had recognized Hugh’s voice so they demanded Olivia to show him. “After this I better be everyone’s favorite nepo baby.”
“You’re not even my favorite nepo baby.” Hugh teased. Olivia then showed Hugh waving hello to the live.
“The viewers want me to teach you the hot to go dance.” She read some of the comments.
“No.”
“Oh ok so you hate happiness in others? I see the type of person that you are, Huge Ackman!” Olivia left her parents’ room to go continue her instagram live in her room.
Hugh stood beside you confused. “How did we raise completely different kids?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know, but I learned so many things today.”
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kisakis-boyfriend · 3 months
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might i request reader fucking boothill after they take off his arms and legs? he's got mechanical limbs, so it won't really hurt and they can be put back on again, but like. the brainrot. he'd look so cute fr fr ♦️
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Author's Note: You must also be a mind reader, because I have been plagued with all sorts of scenarios like this. Either with a robot/android character having their innards played with, or robot/android reader. — All of that to say; I went with a mechanic reader doing some maintenance on Boothill, and things get a lil spicy 👀 (ended up making the reader a bit southern too??)
Pairings: Boothill x male reader
Warnings: Male mechanic!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Boothill, robo sex, robo genital functions, Boothill's goofy swearing, fingering, grinding, mild objectification
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“What seems to be the problem?” You ask. The man on the other side of the desk rolls his shoulder back a few times, complaining of some joint issues.
“Alrighty, follow me. I'll take a look at'cha”
The cowboy follows you into an examination room. Various posters are taped to the walls — cheesy motivational posters and diagrams of machinery, mostly. He comments on them, saying that he appreciates a place like this, as opposed to the squeaky clean shops he'd been referred to previously. You chuckle and thank him for the compliment.
Some tools are pulled out and placed on a workbench next to the table. As you're prepping things, you tell your customer to remove any articles of clothing and have a seat on the table.
“Well shoot, at least take me to dinner first, darlin'!” He teases, smirking at you when you slowly turn your head around and playfully squint your eyes at his remark. Still, he does as he's told, and removes his cropped top, pants, hat. Literally everything is off, and he takes his seat, waiting patiently for you to begin.
“Lift this arm for me. Ok good. Now the other one.” You instruct him through a simple visual check. All four of his limbs seem to stutter through their movements, acting worse when he tries to rotate his legs.
“Ok... Um, I think this'll be an easy fix, but uh...”
“But what?”
“I... am going to need to detach all of your limbs to fix you–”
While your customer was clearly not used to a procedure like this one, he did a wonderful job of following your instructions so as not to damage anything while you're removing his appendages. All four of them detach smoothly, and you set them aside on a spare table until you'll need them again. With the heavy lifting out of the way, you're ready to go in for the delicate work of recalibrating his connecting joints.
“You know, you're probably one of my best customers.” you say as your fingers tug on one of the small wires buried deep within his hip socket, “Most people aren't too keen on doing it all at once. And even when it's two at a time, they squirm and babble anxiously.”
Boothill inhales sharply as the sensation of your hands literally inside of him stirs something within his belly. His lower lip is scored with the marks from his sharp teeth.
You tighten a few of the mechanisms in there, and he prays that you keep your eyes on your work, otherwise you'd see how stupid he must look as his eyelids droop and his mouth opens in a silent moan. It's taking all of his willpower to hold those sounds in.
“Geez, this one is crazy loose… do you uh, have regular maintenance done? Because you really sh-”
As you grip another wire and pull it, a compartment on Boothill's crotch suddenly opens up, revealing a fleshy, dripping hole.
If the cowboy still had legs at the moment, he'd be trying to close them and hide his arousal from you. Already, his breathing has become ragged and heavy, on the verge of making other, lewder sounds…
“Ah! O-oh I am so sorry–”
“Naw, s'okay…” Boothill slurs before the beginning of a moan, futilely attempting to hold composure that is clearly long gone by this point. He can't really buck his hips, but you can tell that that's what he's trying to do. You take the hint, and curiously move between his legs- or, what would be the area between his legs, anyway. He gives you permission immediately, almost begging to have this spot touched.
It's… strangely soft… humanlike in both appearance and touch. It's unclear whether this is human flesh or synthetic, but realistic flesh. Whatever it is, it has nerve endings of some variety, because Boothill whimpers as you prod around the edges of the opening. More liquid oozes out as you toy with him, gasping ooh's and aah's with a curious grin on your face. It's so much that you need to grab a couple towels and place them under his hips so it doesn't drip everywhere or seep into his open sockets. Seriously, it's like a waterfall after a couple minutes…
“You're sure this is ok? I'd hate to make you uncomfortable…”
The hole between his hips pulsates, opening up just slightly, as if it's inviting you inside.
“Darlin', please– you already had yer fingers inside of me today, just… put 'em back in.” The cowboy whines. And if a customer needs a little extra service, who are you to ignore them? Especially one as gorgeous as Boothill.
A rush of the sticky liquid comes pouring out when you push two fingers inside of his pretty hole.
“Fuck, not that I get around much, but I've never seen someone get so damn wet just from my fingers before. Is it always like this?”
A quiet 'mm-mm' is his response. His head flies to either side as your fingers sink in up to the knuckle, effortlessly, thanks to his built-in lube. His hair is hanging off the other end of the table, swooshing around every time Boothill flings his head around. It's so pretty, you really wish it was between your fingers right now…
For now, your focus comes back to the multitude of wet noises coming from Boothill's hole. The towels under him have long since soaked up everything spilling from his entrance.
“M-more… gimme more–!!” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut.
Removing your fingers, his hole squirts out a bit of liquid, and he resembles a sad puppy until he notices you removing your clothes. When your hard-on is more visible, Boothill drools at the sight.
You free your cock and give it a few pumps, licking your lips as your eyes flick between the cowboy's fleshy entrance and his sweaty face. He returns your gaze with his own obvious lust, lolling his tongue out once you touch him again.
It's incredibly soft and wet on your dick. You rub your length against the opening a few times, grinding against him and imagining how it will feel once you're inside–
“Shi- fuck! Mm that's tight, cowboy. Holy shit.” You exclaim, almost going cross-eyed from pleasure as his hole squeezes you so good. It doesn't take long for you to grab his hips and thrust like your life depends on it.
“Goddamn, yer like some hi-tech fleshlight! Oh yeah, take that dick! Take it, slut.” Mechanical wheezing is the only sound coming from Boothill now, unable to speak as you pound his hole mercilessly. In a moment of animalistic lust, you crawl up on the table and fuck him like a sex doll, curling over his body with your own and pistoning your hips, drilling into his gushing entrance as he squirts heavily.
You groan right into his ear, “M'gonna cum in you now- is that ok?” Boothill rapidly shakes his head, shivering at the way your breath hits his earlobe. Within seconds you're fucking your seed further into his squishy hole, ramming in so deep you make the cowboy's eyes roll completely back, and he exhales a shaky “Fork yeah~”. It's hard not to chuckle at the ridiculousness of what he said, but coming down from your high takes most of your energy — including the energy to realize that this man did just say "fork yeah" when you came inside of him……
His hole is still greedily sucking your juices in, and you can already feel yourself humping the glorified fleshlight that is your customer. Needless to say, this repair will take longer than you planned…
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yumeboshi · 5 months
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𝜗𝜚。..❛ #01. YANDERE SUNDAY!
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𐙚 topic。.thinking bout yan sunday treating his imprisoned darling
.。𝜗𝜚 cw。yandere themes, degrading, filthy, MINORS DNI..
.。𝜗𝜚 a/n。sunday brainrotting rn i need this man if it means i have to skip boothill bb ill get u on ur rerun (´•︵•`)
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SUNDAY likes to feel superior to you.
Can’t reach a high shelf? Sunday will tower over you and reach what you wanted to get, smiling at you endearingly, subtly reminding you that he’s much more taller than you are. Can’t cook? He’ll cook up a 5-star course while letting you know he can do it better for you. Especially in bed while he forcefully makes you say you love him, he’d relish in the amount of control he has while tinkering with your little moans and whimpers as he pleases.
Be it in even the smallest trivial matters, or when he’s in bed- he’ll find a way to tell you that you hold nothing over him, that you are pathetic under him, he is your angel and you will be his follower. You only have to do what he asks you, no, commands you to do.
His favorite way of showing his authority is when he feeds you— he’d force you to look up at him while sitting under him between his legs, one hand holding a leash connected to your collar, and the other hand reaching from the table to smear a ton of dessert cake on his fingers. When you beg him to stop, that you want to eat properly, you won’t be able to stand up straight until he allows you to— calling you a pathetic whore for sucking on his cock the whole day when he’s forcing you to.
“My, what a pathetic little slut you are, sweetheart- you just keep on sucking my cock like it’s your meal. I suppose it makes sense as you haven’t eaten.”
But he loves it when you obey, when you suck off the whipped cream from his pretty fingers— calling you a good girl, lovingly patting your head. Your reward? Being fucked dumb while he coos that you’ve been such a sweet girl for obeying him, all the while ramming in his thick cock to pump in his seed into you.
He just loves seeing you obey him- it makes him go crazy more than he’d like to admit.
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saltedpineapple · 9 months
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So JJK is over and my LMK brainrot is back , added with the fact i am playing a MOBA game and am being blessed with delicious illustrations it prompted me to make this
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Now i am going to ramble about this because this is the first time in forever where i kinda pushed myself to make a FULL art piece-
I will be standing for this-
Let me tell you, i had no confidence in this and the composition was supposed to be way different, but this still happened. This took two days because i kept procrastinating , walking around my room dreading drawing the background BIG ADVICE FOR BEGINNER ARTISTS Watch speedpaints. You will learn so much by watching the process and that was this for me I have the tendency to kinda burn myself out and finish everything in a day and then never actually finishing. Tried something different for this and made a cheap silhouette of a sketch, then drew over that and used greys and whites fort the shadows. Then i think i colored everything in a base color (and i finally used a palette) and then i tried to find the lighting and shadow colours. It was weird. And what im saying is that i planned most of it instead of diving head in withour a plan. Crazy i know-
I also just learned about dpi PROPERLY and unfortunately made my piece so big that it kept stalling paint tool sai-
let me just post the progress shots
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I also fucked up macaques reference and fixed it in a whim somewhere. You can see it here. I honestly wasn't planning to follow the lmk at style but that kinda happens when you're starring too much at the references.
There's still a mess and i wanted to render it a bit better ,the way i normally do but i didn't. Anyways i did enjoy the process and i actually miss them so much and i might watch LMK all over again Especially Wukong and MK
Btw this was supposed to be a moving illustration and i just didn't
I have Live2D but no
(Btw please check out my profile if you have the chance and thank you for reading this! Love you-)
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yuvany · 13 days
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SIGMA?
𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 and brainrot humor?
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OT7 ENHYPEN x fem!reader. . . CONTENT/ WARNING(S) : brain rot + comedy + skinship + petnames . . WORD COUNT : 765 . CHECK BOX !!
yu-note : had no idea how to use these terms correctly, but here it is! Got this idea when I heard someone yell 'SIGMA' on the train...
( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚
He walks into your room, shifting your prior attention from the book to him. He stands there for a while as the two of you share a brief moment of eye contact. "Babe, do I have rizz?" It takes a while for you to comprehend the words he just said. "Rizz?" You echo, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, rizz. Do I have rizz?" Heeseung stands by the door and you are even more confused. "What is rizz, Hee? You sound crazy." You chuckle awkwardly, closing the book in your lap. "I bagged you, so I must’ve some rizz." He talks to himself, and you give up.
(rest of the memebers under the cut!)
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚
He wouldn't, but if you used brainrot, he'd think a parasite made its way into your skull. You two were at an amusement park, and as you watched the dolphins jump and do tricks in the water and above, you can't help but to be astonished by the performance. "What did you think?" Jay asks, holding your hand while he guides you towards the exit. "That was so skibidi." You exclaimed, making Jay stop in his tracks. "Pardon me." He looks at you wide eyed as if you kidnapped someone. "Wasn't it great?" "Yes, sweetheart, it was, but what is 'skibidi'?" His eyebrows are knitted together and you laugh aloud at his expression.
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡
You leaned against his shoulder as he scrolled through his social media feed, being met with clips aside of both your interests. You two watch a video of a guy singing and he opens the comment section. "Real sigma." A comment that Jake read, said. He burst out laughing with you following his lead. "Sigma as in the greek alphabet?" He manages to say through sharp breaths. "Look at this!" You spot another comment, and you two laugh at it together again. After calming down, you look at him and he repeats a comment causing you to turn into a fit of laughter that caused your stomach to ache.
𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉
"Erm, what the sigma." You blurt out, seeing the UNO cards that you received. "Sweet Girl, what are you saying?" He doesn't turn his gaze away from his cards, but the confusion is evident in his tone. "I don't know, but can we please reshuffle the cards." You sulk, and Sunghoon chuckles. "No way, I like my cards. Sorry, Honey." You can see how he enjoys this and groan, "what the freak." You stubbornly place your card and Sunghoon makes a comment. "I think you're starting to spend too much time with Jake, sweetie." "He's my brainrot buddie." You sigh. "I can be your brainrot buddy, babe."
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢
"This new generation is doomed." Sunoo complains after seeing kids run around the streets while screaming words no one has heard before. "Unfortunate, isn't it?" He asks, his arms linking with yours. "I think it's quite fun as long as it's just jokes." You explained, hearing no response from Sunoo. "I love you, but we need to agree that this is hillarious, babe." You see the terror in his eyes as you chuckle. "No, but like, it is hillarious. I can imagine running around and screaming Sigma." It's silent, and you see Sunoo giving you the stink eye. "I'm starting to understand what an ick is now." "I was just kidding, sunsun, please!" You plead.
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡
"Pretty girl, do you know what people mean by this?" He shows you his screen and you take a quick look before turning to him confused. "Baby, what's this?" Jungwon sinks into your lap and shrugs. "Not sure what skibidi toilet is." You pat his head, and pull up your phone to find out what it is. As you type, you hear Jungwon humming along the song on his feed. When you see the result of 'skibidi toilet' pop up and cover your mouth in shock at how ridiculous it looked before showing Jungwon who suddenly stopped singing. "Ok, what the flip."
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜
Riki enters the kitchen and takes a seat beside you on the table. "What's up, baby?" You ask, noticing his change in demeanour. "I want to throw away my phone." He shakes his head as he holds it in place like it's gonna fall off after what he experienced. "Huh?" You are confused by this and your boyfriend pulls out his phone again and hands you it. "Take it away from be, please. I can't with these people saying 'very demure' all the time. "Oh? really?" You ask and he nods. "This behaviour is very demure." You say, and he groans. "Not demure, and not skibidi."
TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl
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