#drabble

[joonfiltr]

………….im not okay……..

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. night short #1

horny thought of the night is jungkook who produces a stupid amount of cum, whose stamina can go round after round but even then it didn’t matter because he’d suck on your clit while he worked himself back up again anyways

however, he always make sure to keep your hips raised, always careful to make sure all his cum stays inside of you, and maybe you clench a little too hard while he thumbs over your clit, thick rivulet of his seed dribbling out of you.

he’d try to salvage as much as he could, stuffing his cum back into you with his fingers, a promise on his lips that he’d make sure to stuff you full again as he smears whatever is left on his fingers over your thighs

and maybe he’d have a competitive streak each time you fucked, how many times he could cum inside of you before you lost yourself and it started spilling out of you with each pleasure-filled clench

[dazzlemebaby]

Kid Harry, who cries at the slightest provocation.

Watched The Little Mermaid? Bawled his eyes out when Ariel left home for good.

Fell in the park? Fought back tears as Sirius and Remus frantically put bandaids on his skinned knees.

Gets gently scolded by his father for running in the house? Immediately bursts into tears and hangs onto James’ legs for dear life because he doesn’t want his daddy to be angry with him.

Regulus has never understood it, how his partner’s son couldn’t go a day without some kind of emotional upset. He was actually really good friends with Lily, and he’s never seen the fiery redhead so much as shed a tear in all the years he’s known her.

And then James Potter gets down on one knee on Christmas Day, in the middle of their living room, with Harry crying happy tears on the couch surrounded by all his new toys, and when he can’t even get the words, ‘Will you marry me?’ out because he’s sobbing so hard?

Regulus finally understands where Harry got his tears from, and he wouldn’t have him any other way.

[chososcutie]

♡dilf!nanami♡

warnings: baby fever, mating press, unprotected sex, cumming inside

art creds to @hercaptain and @narutoss.ramen

dilf!nanami who is the girl dad ever.

in fact, when dilf!nanami heard you were expecting girl twins, he was already ordering the matching pink strollers and cribs and little newborn baby onesies.

dilf!nanami who throughout your entire pregnancy, was plastered to your side, making sure your every need was meet, and constantly with a hand on your tummy, feeling for the little baby kicks.

dilf!nanami who when the babies were first born, was with you every step of the way, getting up out of bed at three in the morning if it meant his tired wife could get a few extra hours of sleep, feeding bottles to both of them if your breasts were too sore, rocking them in his big beefy arms and whispering how “daddy’s here”, and even strapping them to his chest in baby slings while he ran errands.

dilf!nanami who you can find cooing at your baby girls, making them giggle as he bounces them on his lap, blowing raspberries on their tummies and tickling them as he keeps them entertained for you.

and not only is dilf!nanami the best father, but he’s also the best husband.

dilf!nanami who after tucking in the babies to bed, tiptoes away to your bedroom.

because while he has to make sure the babies are tended to, he also needs to tend to his baby.

dilf!nanami who takes quick strides to your shared bedroom, wasting no time in sprawling his buff frame over you, pinning you easily down as he huffs hoarsely in your ear, “kids are asleep” while his bulge presses into your soft tummy.

dilf!nanami who is already half-hard at just seeing your chubbed belly and plush hips, your post-pregnancy body was just so tantalizing to him.

dilf!nanami whose hands roam your body with a desperate kind of need, squeezing and kneading tenderly as he places kisses all along your neck and jaw.

dilf!nanami who grunts lowly as your grabby hands reach for his cock, hastily pulling down his boxers until his length slaps against his stomach, spilling pearlescent beads of oozing precum across himself.

dilf!nanami who is huuung, swollen balls and thickened base all leading up to a perfectly symmetrical cock, the tip flushed an angry red and twitching wildly at your gaze.

dilf!nanami who quickly hooks a finger into your panties, shoving them aside before lining himself up, so heavy between your legs you can't help the small moan of anticipation you let out, wriggling your hips up impatiently.

dilf!nanami who only chuckles at his wife's eagerness, too quick to oblige as he begins to push in, past that first tight ring of muscle while you suck him in deeper.

dilf!nanami who groans at the greediness of your slobbering pussy, already trying to milk him for all he's worth as you clamp on tight around him.

"f-fuck, m'.. hah.. gonna cum if you don't stop sucking me in like that sweetie."

dilf!nanami who begins to roll his hips forward, filling you up inch by inch as your moans slur together, tongue lolling out dumbly.

he was just so big, you couldn't help it if you were already cock-drunk!

dilf!nanami who watches as your eyes roll back in your head when he starts up a mean pace, hips snapping into yours ferally while your spit-glossed lips hang open helplessly.

dilf!nanami whose hand comes down between your legs to stroke your twitching clit, the cool metal of his silver wedding band making you jolt with pleasure as you squirm under him.

dilf!nanami's baritone rumble of your name brings you back, as he suddenly throws your legs over his broad-framed shoulders, candied pink lips crashing onto yours in a craze as he folds you into a nasty mating press.

"wan' .. hah.. make ya a pretty mama again.."

"what?" you're gasping for breath, eyelashes fluttering as a familiar coiling heat begins to pool low in your tummy, winding closer with every harsh smack! of his hips into yours.

"can you do that f'me, my love?" dilf!nanami's words have begun to slur, eyes glossy as his throat bobs, pushing your legs up higher 'n higher. "have my babies again?"

drool has begun to seep out of the corners of your lips and with a mindless nod, you find dilf!nanami's hips bucking sloppily as he gets closer.

"say it."

you feel your tummy knotting achingly tight and with a hoarse cry you practically scream out, "k-ken' make me a mommy again! please!" before you're cumming, and cumming hard, creaming all over his cock until it's forming a little ring at his base.

dilf!nanami who is cumming seconds after you, your filthy words sending him over the edge with a soft groan as ribbons 'n' ribbons of hot, milky cum are shooting into you, filling you endlessly up until you're clawing at his back and crying with how stuffed you feel.

dilf!nanami who shudders and jerks over you, whispering small praises as the last wispy remnants of his seed empty into you, fingers coming to stuff the glossy dredges beginning to seep out of your ruined pussy back in.

you hiccup softly, whilst dilf!nanami shushes and coos at you to take it all, lovingly stroking your cheek and placing small kisses on your face while you recover.

dilf!nanami who after giving you a couple more orgasms and tiring you out, hears the babies begin to wail from the other room, tucking you in snugly before whispering “i’ll do it, you get some rest my pretty mama..”

© 2025 CHOSOSCUTIE. please don't copy or translate any of my works. all rights reserved.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

tagslist: @stickyyyv4mp @iluvgogurt445

[pacifistsworstnightmare]

SHUT UP! — mha drabble

you & your kid think it'll be fun to pull a prank on dad together.. lets see how that goes

feat. katsuki, izuku, eijirou, shota, keigo, touya, & tomura

a/n : this is so silly. and has also been festering in my drafts since the beginning of june. it's 2:30am i gotta go to work now enjoy this

m.list !

BAKUGO KATSUKI — (¬_¬")

the plan had been set in motion: get him with the joke as soon as he gets home from patrol. you'd been a little wary at first, knowing he'd be tired and a lot more irritated than usual, but your son shrugged off your worries and said it'd be funny.

"'m home, fuck— s'rainy as fuck out there, feel like a wet dog." you're washing up some dishes in a sudsy sink in the kitchen when he gets home, loudly, and don't have much of a choice to not get wet before he's draping himself over you with a huffed out greeting.

"i'll get you a towel, hang tight—" you squirm out of the wall of muscle leaning up against you and turn to look past him towards your son— he's already nodding and grinning. little shit. "can you come dry these dishes for me while i get dad a towel?"

"shut up, mom." katsuki stiffens immediately, whipping his head around so fast his neck creaks a little to stare daggers at his son— turning to look at you in sheer disbelief for a second before back at the culprit.

"fuck he just say to you? the fuck you just say to your mother?" hes already beelining it towards the living room, dripping wet and miserable and definitely not in the mood to stand for you being disrespected. not that he ever really is.

your son gulps, realising that maybe his dad's reaction wasn't as funny as he'd hoped, and jumps up off the couch with his hands out in surrender.

"it's a joke! dad it's a joke, i promise! she's in on it!"

he's turning around to face you again when you wander into the living room with a towel over your arm laughing. laughing.

"hah? fuck're you two conspiring against me now for?"

"here, towel."

"thanks baby, 'nd you— don't talk to your ma like that, not even for jokes. i'll kick your ass, that's my wife."

"gross, dad."

"dry the goddamn dishes."

MIDORIYA IZUKU — ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

izuku's curled up on the couch, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows, watching something half-heartedly while the hum of you unpacking groceries fills the kitchen. the house is quiet, soft and warm from the rainy afternoon.

“babe, can you come help me put these groceries away?” you called.

from the other room, your daughter’s voice rings out, just a little too sharp.

“can you shut up, mom— ’m trying to watch something.”

izuku blinks. his head turned toward the hallway slowly, like maybe, he’d misheard it. he sits up straighter, remote forgotten in his lap.

“pardon? what was that?”

you can already hear the nervous shuffle of socks on the floor as your daughter peeks her head around the corner.

“izu—”

“no, what was that? is that any way to speak to mom? or anybody for that matter?”

you step out from the kitchen, grocery bag still half-unpacked in your hands. “izuku—”

“no, honey, wait please. have you ever heard me speak to mom like that? what makes you think that's okay?”

his voice wasn’t raised — it never needed to be. but there was something in his tone, that quiet disappointment, that makes your daughter’s face scrunch up instantly with regret.

“izu, sweetheart, we're just messing around— she wanted to see your reaction to something like this.”

“yeah! we were just joking dad, s'okay.”

izuku sighs softly through his nose. still steady. still so deeply earnest.

“being disrespectful to mom is not a funny joke.”

“okay, sorry dad.”

“no, apologise to mom.”

she turns sheepish eyes up at you, scuffing her toe against the floor.

“... sorry mom.”

“better.”

izuku leans back against the couch again, rubbing his temple — like that whole thirty seconds had taken a year off his life. but there's a faint smile tugging at his lips, already betraying how weak he was for both of you.

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU — ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

he’s just come back from the gym, hair still damp, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hauling two grocery bags in one arm like it’s nothing. you’re finishing up dinner when he walks in and kisses your cheek like always.

“smells amazing, babe. need me to set the table?”

“nah, it’s okay,” you say, glancing toward your son. “can you dry the dishes for me while i finish this?”

your son— who had been buzzing with anticipation all afternoon— leans back in his chair and delivers it like a pro.

“shut up, mom.”

for a second, it doesn’t land. eijirou just kind of… pauses. like the words didn’t quite register.

then he turns around. slow. brows drawn, eyes confused in that deeply wounded way that only the kindest men get when their heart breaks in real time.

“what… did you just say to mom?”

your son is already scrambling. “wait— wait, it’s a joke, dad! it’s a prank! she told me to—!”

eijirou just stares. and somehow, that’s worse than yelling.

“that’s not funny, bud,” he says, voice low and serious. “that’s never funny.”

his tone is gentle. but heavy. and now your son looks like he’s about to cry.

you step in quickly, laughing, trying to smooth things over. “we just wanted to see what you’d do, promise. he doesn’t actually talk to me like that.”

“he better not,” eijirou says, arms crossed, trying so hard to stay chill but still visibly upset. “i don’t care what trend it is. don’t talk to women like that. ever.”

“okay! sorry mom,” your son blurts out.

eijirou sighs, rubbing the back of his neck like the whole thing aged him a little. “you're good, kid.”

your son nods quickly.

“cool,” he says, walking past to start setting the table anyway. “love you both.”

eijirou's still a little pouty during dinner. you catch him looking across the table like he’s checking to make sure no one’s actually upset. like he needs to hear you say you’re okay to unclench fully.

you lean over, kiss his cheek. “still your favorite girl, even if i rope our son into dumb shit?”

“always,” he mumbles. then, louder, to your son: “and you owe mom foot rubs. forever.”

“dad.”

“forever.”

AIZAWA SHOTA — /ᐠ - ˕ -マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

you hear the front door click open, the soft scrape of shoes being toed off in the entryway. a second later, shota rounds the corner into the kitchen, hair damp from the rain, capture scarf lazily slung around his neck. he gives you a slow blink of greeting.

“hey,” you murmur, smiling as you load the last of the dishes into the washer. “dinner’s in the oven. can you go remind your daughter to wash up?”

before he can answer, her voice rings out from the hallway, sharp and snappy. “can you shut up, mom?”

there’s a beat of total silence. you don’t even turn around. you just hear the slow, deliberate sound of shota setting his phone down on the counter. the air shifts — heavy, still.

he walks into the living room, quiet as a shadow, and your daughter freezes mid-scroll on the couch. she had been so sure this would be funny — you'd even gone over the plan twice. but now she’s face-to-face with her dad’s dead-eyed stare and visibly regretting everything.

shota doesn’t raise his voice. he doesn’t even look angry. just tired. and disappointed.

“say it again.”

her confidence cracks immediately. “i— it was— we were just—”

his voice is flat. final.

“don’t talk to your mother like that.”

she crumbles like paper. you poke your head around the corner just in time to see her frantically whispering apologies and swearing it was all a joke. shota doesn’t respond — just turns around and trudges toward the bathroom like none of it happened.

you catch his eye as he passes you in the kitchen. he doesn’t say anything, but you can tell. he’s filing this away. she's not gonna try that one again.

TAKAMI KEIGO — ��(•͈⌔•͈)ა

you’re wiping down the kitchen bench when keigo strolls in, feathers still twitching at his shoulders from his evening patrol. he always comes home like this — talking a mile a minute, tossing his gear wherever, already searching for snacks and smooches.

“smells good in here,” he says, peeking over your shoulder, hands skimming your waist. “hey, didja get those honey-dipped—”

“babe, can you help set the table?”

before he can answer, your daughter pipes up from the couch, her voice loud and loaded.

“can you shut up, mom?”

he stops mid-sentence. blinks once. and then looks over at her, smiling — a little too wide.

“you said huh, chickadee? run that one by me again, think i misheard ya.”

she freezes. the grin she was wearing slides right off her face.

“i—i was just kidding, it was a joke! mom told me to— it was a tiktok thing!”

keigo tilts his head, still smiling. “you telling me you meant to say that to my girl, for a tiktok thing?”

you groan softly. “kei—”

“because i know you’re not talking to my wife like that. not in this house. not even once.” his voice drops low and silky, the same voice he uses when he’s interrogating villains — which, unfortunately for your daughter, she’s heard on national television.

she’s already halfway to your side, hugging your arm and mumbling an apology.

keigo ruffles her hair on the way to the fridge. “that’s more like it. now say something nice about your mom, quick. balance the karma.”

your daughter stammers out something about your pretty hair, and keigo, grinning, tosses her a cold drink from the fridge.

“there ya go, much better. be sweet to the hands that feed you.”

you roll your eyes. “you’re so dramatic.”

he leans in to kiss your cheek. “dramatic for you, baby. always.”

TODOROKI TOUYA — (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)

you’re stacking dishes in the sink when you call out over your shoulder, “you wanna take the trash out once you’re done playing, please?”

your daughter barely looks up from her tablet. “shut up, ’m busy.”

the room stills. you turn to look at her, but before you can say anything, touya’s voice cuts in from the hallway — quiet, but with that unmistakable edge.

“hello? whose fuckin’ house are you in? talking to my wife like that?"

he’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed, head tilted just enough to show he’s serious. not raised-voice serious — just very unimpressed.

your daughter startles, eyes wide. “it was a joke—!”

“nah, don’t start that,” he says, stepping into the room slowly, like he’s keeping himself in check. “jokes’re supposed to be funny, kid. that wasn’t.”

she shifts her weight, looking between the two of you, starting to realize maybe she overshot it. “it was mom’s idea! why am i in trouble?”

touya glances at you. you raise your hands in a little whoops shrug.

“was mom’s idea, huh?” he says, sighing. “alright. then you’re both in trouble.”

uh oh.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA — ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

tomura's laser-focused on the game, perched forward with his elbows on his knees, controller twitching in his hands. your daughter’s camped beside him in a nest of snacks and pillows, barking callouts into her headset like she’s in a war zone.

you don’t even really mean it when you call out, “hey, you two wanna take the trash out when you're done?” you know your daughter's ready for her best performance yet

“shut up, mom.”

click.

“hey!” your daughter squawks. the screen’s gone dark. her teammates are yelling in the headset. the moment is ruined.

he’s sitting back now. deadpan. one brow lifted. like he’s deciding whether to ground her or just launch the whole xbox out the window.

“you say that again?” he says. voice dry. eyes not blinking. “please. i dare you.”

she's scrambling to fix it already. “it was a joke! mom told me to say it!”

he hums, setting the controller on the arm of the couch. “mm. and you listened. rookie move.”

he finally glances your way. “both of you are banned from internet culture. effective immediately.”

“you’re so dramatic,” you say.

he points at you. “you’re the ringleader.”

your daughter mumbles an apology, still pouting. he tugs her hoodie over her head and traps her in it.

“talk to your mom like that again, and i’m replacing the xbox with a chessboard.”

“you don’t even know how to play chess!”

“guess we'll be bored together.”

— 2025 © pwn. all rights reserved. do not repost, narrate, or translate my works. thanku!

[vylosinbound]

Hello! I just read your work for Mc calling them brothers their husband! I loved it! It actually made me want to ask if you could do one where the brothers accidentally call mc their spouse and how they would react after their own slip-up. 😊 and maybe Diavolo and Solomon if you could! I think those two would be hilarious about it afterwards.

Hi!! Thank you so much for your kind words, I’m so happy you enjoyed the “MC calling them husband” post! Your request is adorable and I absolutely love the twist! the reactions will definitely be fun to explore! Thank you for sending it in! 💌

P.S: The side characters (including Diavolo and Solomon) will be in a second part, so I can give them the attention they deserve. Stay tuned!

Oops, I mean… Partner?

MC gets called something unexpected.

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor.

Genre: Fluff / humor / slight emotional tension.

The brothers accidentally call MC their spouse and must deal with the aftermath of their slip-up.

LUCIFER

It was during a routine meeting with Diavolo and Barbatos that it happened. You’d been sitting beside Lucifer quietly, listening in and occasionally sipping tea when Barbatos posed a logistical question about a joint human-devildom initiative.

Lucifer’s response was immediate. “I believe my spouse and I could oversee that transition smoothly.”

Silence.

Lucifer blinked. His teacup froze midway to his mouth. Diavolo choked on his drink. You turned to look at him, eyes wide.

“Your what?” Diavolo echoed, barely containing his grin. Lucifer cleared his throat sharply, every trace of his cool demeanor slipping. “My—MC. I meant MC.”

You tried not to laugh. “Did you just call me your spouse?” He looked straight ahead, ears slightly red. “It was... a slip.” Barbatos smiled knowingly. “A revealing one, Lord Lucifer.”

Later that night, he didn’t deny it again.

MAMMON

It happened in the middle of an argument with Levi.

“I ain’t gonna just let ya talk ‘bout my spouse like that!” Mammon snapped, puffing up like a furious cat. Levi blinked. “Your what?!”

“You heard me! My—” He froze, face paling. “WAIT NO I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT.” You peeked around the corner with a surprised expression. “Mammon?”

“SHUT UP SHUT UP I DIDN’T MEAN SPOUSE LIKE SPOUSE, I MEANT… LIKE... FIGURATIVELY?!” Levi cackled. “Bro, just admit it. You’re simping out loud.”

Mammon refused to look at anyone for hours. That night, however, you found a hastily scribbled note under your door: "But like, if ya were my spouse… I wouldn’t hate it or nothin."

LEVIATHAN

“Yeah, I was playin’ that new co-op route with my spouse—uh, MC, and—”

The voice chat went silent. Levi's streaming audience was already blowing up the chat with spam.

"YOU HAVE A SPOUSE??? 😱💍"

" SPOUSE REVEAL WHEN?"

Levi nearly fainted. His face turned purple as he muted himself and scrambled for damage control. “Oh my god oh my god I can’t believe I said that, MC’s gonna die. I’m gonna die. I can’t exist anymore.”

You knocked lightly on his door. “Sooo… I’m your spouse now?” He screamed and yeeted a body pillow into the air. “But like... do you wanna be?” he muttered later while clinging to you, voice tiny.

SATAN

It happened while he was reading. “…My spouse always reminds me of this character,” he murmured aloud, flipping a page. Then he paused.

His eyes widened.

You, lying next to him with your own book, raised an eyebrow. “Your what?” He looked mortified. “I said that out loud?”

You smirked. “Yep.”. “…Would it be inappropriate to say I’ve considered it?” You didn’t answer. Instead, you reached for his hand. He kissed your knuckles without another word.

ASMODEUS

“Oh darling~! This scent is perfect for my spouse...wait-”

You turned around slowly, your eyebrow arched as he froze mid-spray with perfume in hand. “I didn’t mean spouse! I meant future spouse! I mean, potential! POSSIBLY?!”

He tossed himself dramatically on the bed. “I hate how honest my tongue is. Ugh. But also… I mean if the shoe fits~”

He later gifted you that same perfume. “I only give signature scents to my lovers,” he whispered with a wink.

BEELZEBUB

You had just handed him a wrapped sandwich. “You’re the best. Thank you, spouse.” He said it so casually that it didn’t register.

You blinked. “Beel… did you just call me spouse?” He stopped mid-bite. “…Oh. I guess I did.” He chewed thoughtfully. “I like the way it sounds.”

You choked on your drink. “You… do?” He nodded seriously. “Would you like to be?” And he wasn’t joking.

BELPHEGOR

It slipped out during a nap.

You were half-asleep too, curled beside him in the attic when he mumbled, “C’mere, spouse… warm…”

Your eyes popped open. You whispered, “Did you just call me your spouse?” He didn’t respond. He was out cold again.

Later, when you brought it up, he smirked lazily. “Dreams tell truths we don’t say aloud, right?”. Cue a blush from you, and a sleepy arm around your waist.

[crispy-bonnie]

spoilers for date everything (especially eddie & volt's route) under the cut !! you have been warned !!!

———

picture this: the dateables are self-aware. they know they're in a game and that you're playing it; they just don't acknowledge it straight up.

however, as you're playing through, you start to take some likings to some of the characters, but your choices in dialogue have messed up your chances to be able to date them. you know how their routes go, and you don't want to have to face the fact that you might get a hate ending.

"okay so according to this guide, i have to pick this dialogue option... but it's not showing up?" you mutter to yourself as you skim through various guides online. "but i'm only getting one dialogue option? did i mess something up at the beginning of the scene?"

you and your friends are in a voice call with you as you try to romance eddie & volt (despite having leaned more towards volt through the route). eddie & volt are watching as you try to scroll through the guide and its choices, and as you make it to the final dialogues before their hate ending, they can hear your panic.

"dammit, these aren't right! i don't wanna say either of these, but i'm not being given a choice!" both men watch as you fumble and try to find a solution, going as far as to alt+f4 from the game and loading up your save in an attempt to find your mistake, but you don't have any saves from the start of the route where you messed up.

eddie, though apprehensive at first, sees how hard you're trying to romance the both of them. he wasn't lost on the slow shift in your eyes as you went through the scene of fixing the bar with him. hell, he was sure he saw a small and dreamy sigh escape your lips when he lunged forward to catch you in game.

volt was just as charmed, not only because you leaned towards him so much, but also because you had somehow managed to catch eddie's attention despite your initial reaction to it. he wants eddie to be happy, and he wants you to be happy.

through the screen, you eventually sigh as you pick one of the options, bracing yourself for the inevitable hate ending.. but that's when the game freezes. the screen becomes slightly whiter as a pop-up shows on your screen: dateeverything.exe has stopped responding

you let out a groan before opting to restart the game, giving your romancing one last try. you proceed down that interaction again, but when you are forced to brace yourself for the incorrect choices, you find yourself faced with two more options than usual. this had you cocking a brow up, as your other reset attempts hadn't worked before, yet still you pressed on, following the guide to a T as much as you could.

eventually, you managed to get to the love ending, and as you admire the screen and its sprites, you can't help but notice how the characters seem to be admiring you back...

[batsybat91]

Johnny wakes up at 7 o'clock sharp. It's his day off, so he has time to run his errands. He has a little list on a sticky note so he doesn't forget anything.

Get the mail

Get gas for the car

Pick up my prescription

Grocery store!! Need bread and eggs!

Getting the mail is easy. His mailbox is just at the end of his driveway. He has the paper, junk mail, a bill, a letter from his sister, and... a light blue envelope. The envelope has a dark blue wax skull stamp on it. Johnny tucks the rest of his mail under his arm, cracking the wax and pulling the card out.

"You are cordially invited to the wedding of Mr. Simon Riley and..." he mutters. "No fuckin' way!! I told those bloody arseholes! She's real!"

Johnny turns the card over in his hand, a picture of you kissing Simon's cheek, both of you dressed in black. Johnny's surprised Simon let his face be on this. Even though your eyes are closed, he can tell that you love him more than anything in the world.

"Good for him." Johnny grins. "I better be the best man."

He hangs the card on his fridge, marking the date down in his calendar on his phone. The rest of the day seems mundane now.

--

Kyle has been putting off getting the mail for about two weeks now. His little P.O. box is flooding with papers of all shapes and sizes. This morning, he finally picked it up. When he gets back to his apartment, he flops onto the sofa and sorts through it.

"Junk, junk, junk, bill, magazine, coupon, coupon..." he mumbles, tossing each item into its respective pile. "What's this?"

In his hands - the last thing in his absolutely monstrous pile of mail - is a baby blue envelope. Sealing the envelope is almost a TARDIS blue wax seal. The seal depicts a small skull with its mouth open. He gently opens the envelope, brows furrowed. Inside is a black card with gold lettering

"You are cordially invited to the wedding of Mr. Simon Riley..." Kyle reads aloud. "Holy shit. Soap wasn't lying!"

He flips the card over, only to see a picture of a beautiful woman kissing the bloody Ghost! Kyle can tell by the light in Simon's eyes that he has found someone who truly loves him. And she's just as pretty as Soap said!

"Good for them," he chuckles, pinning the card to his corkboard. Kyle scrawls the date down on his calendar, smiling the whole time.

--

Price needs to go through the mail. It's been sitting on his kitchen counter for three days, accumulating more and more shit. He doesn't know why he even gets half this shit. It's all ads, ads, ads. Ocassionally, he'll get a useful coupon here and there. He likes Go Outdoors coupons the most. He needs a new hat, he thinks.

While he's idly looking through his mail, he spots a blue envelope. It has a wax seal on it. Price narrows his eyes at the envelope. He doesn't recognize the address, but it has Simon's name on it. With little ceremony, he opens the envelope. He pulls out a gold-on-black card. "You are cordially invited to the wedding of Mr. Simon Riley," he grunts. "Well, shit. I owe Soap an apology."

On the back of the card is a gorgeous lady kissing Simon's cheek. Simon's brown eyes are shining with pride, and he can see the woman is hiding a smile. Price rarely sees Simon without his mask on, but he seems to do it so freely with this girl. "Good for the bloke," he chuckles, putting the invitation on his office desk.

Simon deserves something good in his life, Price thinks, a hint of sadness behind the thought. He's had the hardest life out of any man Price has ever met. It's about damn time something happy happens to him.

--

"Simon, I cannot believe you didn't tell them about me until we sent out those invitations!" you exclaim, swatting his thigh.

Simon shrugs. "I was protecting you. Didn't want the bad guys to find my lady, now did I?"

"Well, I think you should have still told them!" you huff, crossing your arms. "It's a lot to drop on someone, you asshole. If one of my friends suddenly sent me a wedding invitation when I thought they were single, I'd have a bloody cow!"

"It's different for men, love," he replies softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your crown. "I didn't even know Johnny had sisters until a couple of weeks ago."

"That's ridiculous," you scoff. Simon pulls you into his lap, smoothing his hand over the curve of your spine. You melt immediately, resting your chin on his shoulder. He kisses the side of your head, which makes you go even softer.

"I think I would've kept you all to myself forever, if I could have," he says against your hair. "But I think being able to call you my wife outweighs that."

You sigh softly. "I still think you should've told them."

He chuckles, a low rumble deep in his chest. "I think it's more fun this way."

"Maybe," you giggle. "I hope they liked the invitations."

"They were perfect, baby," he promises, kissing the corner of your mouth. "You did a good job."

Part I

Part II

Tags: @ax-alienated, @despairinglakepasta, @tessakate, @yourfavgaygaijingal, @btsgangleader, @adalia-lovelace, @kodokunarisu-blog, @dreamienebula , @cece2608, @hangingmooncloud, @cantfindmelol, @annnnnnnnnac, @trashaccount19, @harringtonsbowgirl, @yuki2129, @julys-mistake-the-second, @arabellatreaty, @herefor-tojis-tits, @h0lydrag0ns, @xylov, @just-lilita

[joonfiltr]

yes yes yes and yes to every single one of these. they are so CUTE

(in which . . .) the first collection of my drabbles feat. my beloved muse jungkook! ★

navigation: next >

timeline masterlist | main masterlist | spotify playlist | kofi

© onlyswan / i do not allow reposting, translating, or modifying any of my works in any platforms. please do not claim them as yours.

—

FAQ:

• when and how did they meet for the first time?

- answered: in which music waters a wilting flower on a chilly autumn night (refer to second col.)

• how long have they been in a relationship?

- 2018 until present time <3 anniversary date revealed: in which you don’t want to give up on jungkook (even when he gave you reasons to, even if they give you reasons to) [refer to second col.]

• when did the breakup happen?

- june 2019: in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give (refer to second col.)

• there are sexual or suggestive themes/scenes and allusions to sex in some drabbles but i do not write smut/pwp.

—

> “i have created my own worst enemy.” “jungkook, it’s a plushie.”

> “you can lean on me. you can always lean on me.”

> in which jungkook gives you a concussion

> in which one of jungkook’s love language is biting

> in which you have so much love but not so much time

> in which jungkook wants to live forever with you and you love his pretty hair

> in which jungkook likes cooking late at night

> in which you come home drunk and jungkook is confused the entire time

> in which you can’t sleep and jungkook reminisces

> in which you’re jungkook's lip balm fairy and you love his dimples

> in which you’ve found comfort in laying on top of jungkook and you just . . . won’t let go

> in which you and jungkook visit your hometown and a typhoon welcomes you

> in which you and jungkook eat breakfast (in?)front of the fridge

> in which you and jungkook go on an amusement park date

> in which you wake up in the middle of the night without jungkook by your side

> in which jungkook loses you in the grocery store

> in which you and jungkook are just two young souls deeply in love

> in which it’s your turn to take care of jungkook

> in which it’s pouring outside and jungkook is craving s’mores

> in which your feet are hurting but jungkook’s little joys in life are top priority

> in which jungkook is a breath of fresh air and bam loves you

> in which jungkook is team not okay for the perilla leaf debate

> in which it’s jungkook’s turn to steal your clothes

> in which you get your period and jungkook just wants to be with you

> in which you entertain yourself with jungkook’s hair and make a dream come true

> in which jungkook loves much harder than orpheus

> in which you say i love you to jungkook for the first time

> in which you and jungkook splurge on in the seom

> in which you come home tipsy and jungkook is upset

> in which you always come home to jungkook

> in which you and jungkook go on a spontaneous drive

> in which jungkook doesn’t understand you sometimes

> in which you and jungkook get your hands full . . . literally

> in which jungkook loves you, and he wants you both to eat well

> in which jungkook loves doing nothing with you

> in which you really don’t get want to get upset at jungkook, but you are

> in which jungkook kisses you for the first time

> in which jungkook comes home drunk but bam can’t speak

> in which nightmares are made of terrors but jungkook is an evening star

> in which jungkook stumbles with his new pair of eyes

> in which cruel fate leads you and jungkook to bright places

> in which jungkook says i love you for the first time

> in which jungkook doesn’t mind you waking him up— he just wishes it’s not when he’s in the middle of a good dream

> in which christmas is upon us and jungkook just wants to say that he loves you

> in which jungkook won’t tell you what’s wrong and you get emotional motion sickness

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Girl Dad Bobby

A/n: Going with Bobby knowing what the girls do because I say so.

Bobby was a lot of things.

Former idol trainee. PR wizard. Crisis manager. Demon-slayer scheduler. ( Because that was a thing apparently )

But his favorite title?

“Appa!!! She colored on your press notes again!!”

Girl Dad.

He came rushing into the living room wearing nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants and a sleep shirt that read: HONMOON DAD CLUB. His hair was a fluffy disaster, there was a seal sticker on his cheek, and he was holding a glittery pink sippy cup like it was a grenade.

“Okay,” he said, voice low, rubbing his temples. “Which one of you adorable little demons wants to explain why the Seoul Music Award notes now have a rainbow unicorn barfing hearts all over Zoey’s outfit reveal?”

Three sets of eyes blinked up at him.

Hyuna (age 6, firstborn chaos) slowly raised a purple crayon like it was Excalibur. “It was for protection, Appa. Unicorns keep demons away.”

Bobby blinked. Then nodded. “Okay. Fair. Strong logic. Flawed execution.”

The man just taking the answer as truth because of course Bobby would, this was his baby girl after all.

You came into the room balancing the toddler on your hip—Yejin, age 2, your mini-me—who was babbling something in half-words while sucking on her thumb and proudly holding a plush Rumi doll.

“She saw her unnie do it and thought Rumi needed sparkles,” you explained.

Bobby glanced down at the Rumi plush. The face was now covered in glitter and stickers.

“…That’s actually an improvement,” he muttered, half-defeated. “She looks more unbothered by demonic possession now.”

You grinned and kissed his cheek—right on the seal sticker. “You’re handling this chaos well, Appa.” Your voice holding a teasing edge to it.

“I’m trained for PR disasters, not the glitter apocalypse.”

He took the toddler from your arms, and Yejin immediately clung to his neck, squealing “Appaaaa~” and smushing her tiny hand against his nose.

Hyuna poked his thigh with the crayon. “Are you going back to work now?”

“I don’t want to, but the press wants a comment about Rumi having a boyfriend, the fandom’s at war over whether Jinu has a crush, and Mira’s threatening to leak her high school mixtape if I don’t approve their concept shoot by noon.”

You smirked. “So… a normal day.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. Then smiled at you and kissed your forehead. “Except now I get to do it while covered in baby yogurt and seal stickers. Living the dream.”

As he turned to leave, Yejin pulled at his shirt and whispered, “Appa?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“You’re my favorite idol.”

Bobby stopped. His face crumpled with affection, and you watched as the man who routinely fought PR nightmares and raging idol scandals just melted under the weight of his tiny daughter’s love.

He turned around, pulled both girls into his arms, and said, “No award in the world beats that.”

His lip quivering as he places kisses all across his daughter's cheeks.Then he turned to you, eyes still soft, voice thick with emotion.

“You know, I was terrified about being a dad. Terrified I’d mess up. Or that I’d always be too busy. But these girls… they’re the only PR I’ll never spin.”

You smiled. “That’s because they see you. Not just the manager. Just… Bobby. Their Appa.”

As Hyuna climbed onto the couch and proudly declared she was going to “train to be the next demon-hunting pop star,” Bobby just laughed, eyes full of sparkle.

“I hope they never stop dreaming,” he said. “Because I’ll protect them. From demons, scandals, and heartbreak. Always.”

You leaned against him, and together, the four of you sat in the quiet hum of Sunday morning cartoons, K-pop awards waiting, demon scandals looming—and Bobby, your husband, your rock, right in the middle of it all.

Covered in glitter.

With a Rumi doll in one hand, and his daughters in the other.

Girl Dad. Through and through

[sorreldolli]

7:14AM

The moment he realized he was in love with you, it wasn’t a sunny day or a celebratory moment. It wasn’t a date, and you weren’t even in your best dress.

It was a lazy Tuesday, where the two of you had just finished eating a greasy pizza from your favorite restaurant downtown. Your go-to comfort after your favorite character died in a show. You were upset, so you ate to numb the feeling.

You sat on the couch, scrolling through shows on the TV—while he watched you, quietly, waiting for you to pick a new show.

There was one slice of pizza, but two people feeling very different things.

The day he realized he was inlove with you—you looked over at him, laughing as he choked on a piece of pepperoni. A genuine moment— your laughter filled the room followed by a soft, worried, ‘are you okay?’

In that moment, he knew: you were his comfort. His happiness.

And in the silence that followed the uncontrollable laughter—he realized—undeniably, that he was in love.

Gojo, BOKUTO, kuroo, TAKUMA, isagi, choso, DENKI, + your favs

[stonedtaemin]

⭑.ᐟ

caleb follows her everywhere she goes. he’s like her own personal shadow, golden retriever even. he’s attached to the hip, especially on his off weekends where he doesn’t have to be hotshot colonel.

even when she has to go to the bathroom he’s leaning on the counter next to her. nothing is off limits in his head. he’s fucking obsessed.

next thing she knows, caleb’s on his hands and knees in front of her as she sits on the toilet, licking at her folds in a complete panting mess. he’s been horny all fucking day and he can’t wait any longer.

“caleb— ngh! gonna piss if you— fuck!” she whines, hips circling as his tongue flicks against her clit obscenely. he’s licking thick stripes onto her in between kitten licks, humming as he keeps it up. he doesn’t even care, his eyebrows furrow together in desire as he eats her deeper and deeper. her fingers pull harshly at the strands of his hair, hips stuttering. he groans against her, vibrating her deliciously.

“yeah? you like that? like it when i eat you on the toilet, pips? tell me you fucking like it.” it’s like he’s possessed.

“i’m serious! i’m gonna p-pee in your mouth —‘leb! shit, baby! mhmm…”

he shakes his head violently with his tongue sliding side to side in the most sinful way. he’s fucking going crazy.

“do it little slut. let me drink you.” he growls against her, words slamming into her core. she can’t even believe what she’s hearing right now.

insanity.

but she couldn’t of held it any longer, feeling the warm liquid rush out of her, spilling into the toilet and all over his greedy mouth. his tongue sticks out as it sprays harshly against him, a loud moan rumbling from him. his fingers go to rub at her clit while he tastes her, piss getting everywhere as he violently rubs.

“oh, fuck! jesus, caleb! yes, yes, yes!” she cries out, back arching as she feels herself cum at the same time she goes to the bathroom onto his mouth.

“mhmm baby. just like that, keep letting go. tastes so fucking filthy, fucking love that shit. making me— fuuuck— so hard. my dirty little bitch.” his moans are so incredibly loud, his hips thrusting into nothingness. caleb is losing his mind at just how hot this is.

the stream begins to die but her orgasm is still going strong, her hips circling violently and pushing herself to the edge if the toilet seat, smashing her cunt into his face and piss dripping onto the floor from his chin. he ate her with a ferocity she had never seen from him before. her cheeks rise with heat as reality hits her: she had just peed. on caleb.

“caleb, you’re fucking— oh— so insane!” she whines, still riding his tongue as her climax finishes. he kisses against her folds a final few times before pulling off with a lewd muah.

his fingers stop rubbing her and slam inside of her, scissoring and curling, beckoning her for another round. she screams out, her moans piercing his ears like a wailing siren.

“yeah, just wanna be your fucking toilet like a good boy. wanna taste you so much that i won’t be able to forget. wanna be so close to you, baby.” he whines, completely lost in his arousal. his cock aches so badly in his pants, cum leaking through.

he’s going to kill her with that mouth of his one day.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

cw - stepcest, dead dove, fem!reader is making rounds with the whole zenin family, stepcousin!naoya x reader, smoking, drinking, mdni

< prev |

the new year’s party is in full swing, and stepdad!toji’s small house is packed.

you’re bobbing and weaving through the crowd, trying to make it upstairs to your room. stepdad!toji was busy playing poker, and stepbrother!megumi was nowhere to be found.

it’s obscenely loud with everyone chatting to each other. someone stops you every few seconds to introduce themselves to you. normally, you’d try and be friendly, but the raging party was so overly stimulating. you just need to have five minutes of peace.

the entire place smells heavily of booze, black and milds, and weed. your head feels like it’s on a tilt-a-whirl. you’d think you’d be used to it since you work at a bar, but even the bar doesn’t smell this offensive.

you sigh with relief as you make it to the hallway, but your relief doesn’t last long as you lock eyes with stepcousin!naoya

he doesn’t look like the rest of the zenin’s. his hair is a lighter dyed blonde with dark undertones, and he has piercings along both his ears and even his nose and lip have metal in them.

stepcousin!naoya who hates crowded family functions, but he isn’t afforded the same opportunity to hide away like stepbrother!megumi. thus, he’s forced to sit at the end of a dark hallway with a cigarette tucked between his lips.

“what are you looking at?” he grunts, flicking his cigarette ash into an empty beer can. even while he taunts you, his eyes take their time slowly following each one of your curves. his tongue lazily runs over his teeth in response.

you freeze, feeling equally as offended as you are intrigued. he doesn’t have the same energy as the other zenin’s. while the rest of the family is rugged and rough around the edges, he almost feels dark and depraved.

“i haven’t figured that out yet,” you stammer, inwardly chiding yourself for not sounding more confident.

stepcousin!naoya chuckles, and he shoves the butt of his cigarette into the aluminum can. he then slowly climbs to his feet, and you take a step back as you realize he’s taller than you thought — taller than stepbrother!megumi but not as tall as stepdad!toji.

“you wanna find out?” he asks, opening up the bathroom door behind him. it’s luckily vacant.

you stare in wide-eyed shock from his boldness. all he had to his name was audacity. “do you normally proposition relatives at family gatherings?” you retort, narrowing your eyes.

stepcousin!naoya bites back a grin. one of his angel bite piercings flex as his lower lip is tucked between his teeth. “no, and you’re not technically a relative.” he takes a calculated step forward. “besides, i bet that hasn’t stopped toji from propositioning you, has it? you’re exactly his fucking type.”

your mind involuntarily reminds you of how toji casually fisted his massive dick right in front of you. you remember just how wet you were, completely soaking through your panties just from watching him.

a coil of unwanted and jealousy settles into your stomach as stepcousin!naoya’s words sink in. “what do you mean i’m his type?”

he immediately scoffs, rolling his eyes. stepcousin!naoya had always hated toji as much as he wanted to be toji. “don’t be so naive. you’re not the first or second problematically young girl to fall for him. it’s too bad, really. he’s too emotionally constipated to ever really care after he has his fill of them.”

your heart lurches in your chest. you don’t know when you started to care — when you started to get attached to stepdad!toji, but it happened. now you’re being told that you’re not even special.

“c’mon, you’re too pretty to be hung up on an old man like him,” stepcousin!naoya says with a slight smirk. he’s a venomous snake who just successfully wrapped around his prey. cocking his head towards the empty bathroom once more, he reaches out and takes your hand. “you’re not the type to just take being played, are you?”

you wrap your fingers around his hand, allowing him to lead you towards the bathroom. fuck stepdad!toji.

taglist: @theuniversesnepobaby @airandyeah @iamrgo @kentoslvr @just-lilita @dumbmi @erenspersonalwh0re @trsh-kitty @gurlie919 @st-kitten @iluvikeu @gina239 @sttaejoon-blog @fairygardenprincesss @elloquenth @caileysdead @maymaymarch @justa-booknerd @fayezasstuff @ha-zel-art

[elegantxdarlin]

𝓝ot 𝓞n 𝓛ive - Satoru. G

The match had just started when Gojo felt your legs swing off his bed.

He didn’t think anything of it—his focus locked on the Call of Duty lobby, headset perfectly snug, mic unmuted, camera on and angled just right. The lighting behind him pulsed blue and purple, casting soft shadows across his sharp jaw and loose white shirt.

Behind the scenes? You padded barefoot across the room in nothing but one of his oversized hoodies.

He saw you out of the corner of his eye but didn’t dare look away from his screen.

“Don’t even think about it,” he muttered into his mic, as much to you as to his teammate.

You ignored the warning completely, arms sliding around his shoulders as you leaned down, soft lips pressing against the side of his neck.

“Thought you said we were gonna hang out,” you whispered, breath warm.

Gojo tensed for just a second. Then cleared his throat. “We are—I’m hanging out with my boys and carrying the team.”

You hummed and bit down gently on his neck.

He twitched.

“yo he just flinched???”

“is he—was that a moan?”

“PAUSE.”

“nah someone’s kissing on him rn idc”

“WHERE IS Y/N. I KNOW SHE THERE.”

He tried to act normal. He really did. But his knuckles were white on the mouse, jaw clenched, one leg bouncing slightly.

You whispered again, teasing: “You sure you wanna play this game, baby?”

“Y/N,” he warned lowly, eyes still glued to the monitor. “Don’t.”

But you were already kneeling.

The second your hands slid along his thighs and disappeared under the desk, he went still.

Dead silent.

One blink. Two.

Then—

“no fucking way.”

“NO WAY SHE JUST WENT UNDER—”

“HE’S FROZEN LOOK AT HIM LMFAOO”

“this mf boutta ascend”

“mfs really live streaming their own downfall these days huh”

“chat shh let bro focus. he fighting for his life rn 💀”

Gojo let out a choked sound halfway between a laugh and a whimper as you dragged your nails up his inner thigh. His head tipped back just slightly.

“You’re evil,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

You just smirked, voice purring from below, “You’re still losing, by the way.”

His voice cracked on the next callout.

“Y-Yeah—behind the truck—uh, fuck—B-side, I think—”

“B-side of what, king 😭😭”

“i know that’s not the game he talkin bout”

“bro his eyes not even open anymore istg”

“BLOWN COVER. LITERALLY.”

“we all hearing him fall apart live rn”

“get ur girl bro before u get banned 😭😭😭”

Gojo finally reached for his keyboard, slamming the mute key on his mic same with his camera.

Didn’t matter anymore.

Because the expression on his face said it all.

@elegantxdarlin all rights reserved

Okay so just to let you know, Gojo is a live-streamer and is streaming live with his friends, my friend asked for this specific request so here, I was too shy to post it on my main tho but @bakusmoker is my main, anyways this was shitty but it’s wtv

[hellinistical]

11:29

You're standing in the kitchen, bathed in that pale morning gray that only seems to exist on days when the sun forgets how to rise. The coffee maker hums low, filling the silence in place of conversation. You pour slowly, the steam curling upward, lazy and unbothered.

Then, from behind you— “You’re lonely. Why is that?” His voice is quiet, almost gentle, but it cuts clean through the hush like a blade through fog. You don’t flinch. Of course he’d notice. Of course Sylus would notice. The way your smiles never quite reach your eyes. The way you laugh with your mouth but not your chest. The way you move like you’re holding yourself together with string.

You give the mug a little swirl, watching the coffee ripple dark and smooth. You don’t answer right away. He doesn’t press. He never does. He just watches—those sharp red eyes flicking between your face and your hands, like he expects the truth to spill if he’s patient enough. The silver-white of his hair is damp from a shower, a loose strand falling over his tanned forehead. He smells faintly of oak and something you're not sure how to pronounce.

“You ever talk and feel like no one hears you?” you say finally, voice low. “Like you could scream, and the room would just blink and keep going?”

He tilts his head slightly, the light catching the hook of his nose. “You scream often?” You crack a small smile. “Only in my head.”

Sylus hums, and it sounds like agreement. Or sympathy. Or maybe just acknowledgment. You’re never quite sure what he’s thinking—just that he is, and that somehow, that makes you feel a little less invisible. He takes the mug from your hands, and takes a sip. “It’s easy to see through your façade for me,” he murmurs, fingers still curled around your mug. “As for others…” He stops, eyes narrowing just slightly, like he’s weighing whether the rest is even worth saying. “You can relax with me, kitten.”

Your brows furrow at the nickname, at the implication. “It’s not that I’m not anxious, Sy—”

He pats your head. A pat. Like you’re small. Like you’re precious. It’s annoying—and it kind of isn’t. “It’s a commitment, sweetie,” he says simply, like the matter’s settled. “Letting yourself be known.”

You open your mouth to protest but stop yourself. Because maybe he’s right. And maybe the warmth seeping into your scalp where his hand touched you lingers just a little too long.

The coffee grows cold between you, but you don’t really notice.

[crushsations]

Late nights in the N109 zone were, contrary to what is expected, oddly peaceful. 

The dimly lit streets with flickering fluorescent lights, the distant echoes of chaos and conversation—it should be unnerving, all of it, and it is. It’s no charming suburbia with its never-ending violence and constant threat of illegal activity yet, somehow it was still comforting even more so from the overhead view of the broken city from it’s most notorious syndicate leader’s high-rise.

Sprawled out along on a deep maroon coloured lounge chair seated at the edge of a large floor to ceiling window you find yourself in a trance looking into the chaos of the city so much though that you didn’t notice a figure approaching you from behind

“The nights are quite beautiful here, aren't they” 

Startled, you turn around—only to relax once you see Sylus' familiar red eyes and soft smile, you rotate back to your original positioning, comforted.

“I think it's more haunting if anything.” you murmur in response, looking further out into the distance to the point that your eyes unfocus for a second, entranced by the madness.

He chuckles, low and warm as he makes his way towards the couch where you lay. He gently lifts your head as he slides to sit towards the edge of the couch and just as carefully as before, he places your head back down but this time in the firm comfort of his lap. He naturally finds himself gazing at you, he admires how perfect you look, peacefully resting on his lap with a gentle gaze, too peaceful for all the chaos of the post-apocalyptic world you’re living in.

You both stay like that for a moment, neither of you daring to move or speak.

His hand begins to trace rhythmically up and down your back, he can’t help but think to himself how ideal this is, having you so close to him when you’ve spent so long far apart, it feels surreal, like a dream written in a fantasious world where everything is perfect. He thinks about it more than he should—about longing, about timing, about how this may be doomed forever. Would he ever get a moment like this again? Things move so rapidly in your individual lives and  moments like these were rare. He has to ask:

“Do you like it here?”

You pause for a second and shift to face him, your face riddled with confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean like the N109 zone… or being here with you?”

“Both” he replies immediately.

You halt the conversation for a moment, which makes Sylus nervous—he waits patiently regardless.

“I think there's something rather charming about this wasteland.” You respond while lazily poking his chest with your finger “it's nerve wracking yet it still feels like home and that is partially your fault.”

He raises an eyebrow, confused but intrigued.

“Yeah” you continue with a slight giggle. “You really do make this place feel like home, Sylus. I love being around you.”

His breath hitches and his cheeks begin to flush, much to his dismay.

“Would you stay with me forever?" he blurts.

Unexpected.

But there is so much truth to his gaze, the way his crimson eyes are steadily looking into yours, it’s personal, it’s sincere.

You reach for his hand, slipping your fingers between his, it's warm and calloused and feels oh so familiar.

“Forever is a long time.”

“It sure is”

You squeeze his hand.

“I would, Sylus.”

A shaky breath escapes him, he's relieved, after all you're all he can think about. He leans back onto the soft leather of the couch as tension leaves his body. His eyes slowly relax as he succumbs to slumber—your hand in his, your head on his lap, the outside world in chaos.

But here, with you, everything is perfect.

Thank you so much if you’ve read until the end! This is my first piece of fan writing in like 4 years so I hope it's decent… Anyway can you believe this was originally gonna be a hurt/no comfort fic, my mood changed like instantly when writing somehow. I want to write a little drabble for each of the LIs so if you have any suggestions i'll be happy to go through them but I can’t guarantee I will write them. 😛😛