#}{ Drabble }{

[swordsandholly]

Ghost who works out constantly. It's almost startling how often he's in the gym; practically claimed his very own corner and treadmill. Everyone thinks it's just to stay strong for his job. They take motivation from him; some rookies even began a "Ghost Challenge" that now has become a tradition with each new batch.

Except, he isn't doing it to get particularly strong or meet some insane feat of the human physique. No, in reality he has a massive sweet tooth that just won't quit and a little baker partner at home who is nothing but happy to indulge.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I could love you with my eyes closed

Tags: Suguru x fem!Reader, smau, (brother’s) best friend to lovers, modern!au, college!au, cursing, suggestive, mention of smoking (it’s up to you how you want to interpret that), reader is satoru’s little sister, mdni

An: I’m actually so excited to start making these again! If you didn’t know, I have a whole best friends to lovers smau series on my page with many other JJK men (Satoru, Sukuna, Toji, Nanami, and Ino). I feel like this one might be juicy with the college setting and being Satoru’s little sister 🤭

Part one. |

[tootiecakes234]

“Kat?? Katsuki? Where are you?” You yelled walking in through the front door of your house.

It was unusually dark inside unless Katsuki had already went to bed which you highly doubted because as much as he bitches and moans, he doesn’t like sleeping without you.

“I’m in here.” His voice was as coming from the dining room.

You could smell whatever he cooked circulating around the house and it had you salivating already.

“Mmmmm what did you cook, baby?? It smells a-…….”

You were cut short because you noticed the floor was decorated with flower petals leading up to the dining room, but the shock and confusion didn’t stop there.

When you got inside the table was set with the addition of filled wine glasses, a vase of your favorite flowers, and few soft lit candles around the room.

Then your eyes caught the main event sitting center stage. A nervous Katsuki was fidgeting but you could tell he was trying to remain calm, cool, and collected.

He was dressed up in a nice collared shirt and pants fit snug to his hips. He looked better than dinner smelled.

You were both staring at each other when everything seemed to fade. Both of you seeming to hold you breath to see if the other would speak first.

But of course you being you takes the opportunity to break the tension.

“Katsuki Bakugo” and you voice cracked because all of the emotions were making it hard to speak, “ are you about to propose to me??”

“…….”

“Kats?”

“I am gonna murder that pink idiot! I specifically told her to keep her goddamn mouth shut!”

Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist

*this is the draft for the finale of the proposal fic I was going to post but I didn’t know what to do with it so I stopped😭😭 I thought people would hate it🥲🤭

[freakrenaissance]

Love this!! Protective,sexy daddy-to-be... yeah, that suits bucky very well 😍 adorable

Hi!!! I was wondering if I could request a Bucky x pregnant!reader where he's all protective and soft w her. Maybe some smut idk whatever you feel angel

Warnings: 18+. Fluff and smut.

Words: 1OOO

Supressing a deep groan, you throw your head back in an attempt to relieve some painful tension in your body. Digging your fingers into the duvet as you sit at the edge of the bed with your legs planted wide and firmly onto the floor, you suck in air through your nose and puff it out through your mouth. You want to punch the baby bump and let a roller bulldozer roll over your spine in an aggressive attempt to take away the overwhelmingly uncomfortable feeling you are experiencing non-stop.

A straining ache in your muscles, especially your lower back, pelvis and thighs are killing you and you are at the end of your tether. You want to scream and pull your hair and cry and shoot someone, your elevated emotions not exactly helping the frustrations pulsing through your body.

And you feel so alone in your struggles, the powerlessness of it nearly dominating every other sensation.

That’s when a firm palm strokes from the bottom of your spine, all the way up and back down, heat radiating through your back at the warm touch. And tears well up in your eyes, the frustration and brief sense of relief that follows breaking the dams.

One sniffle from you and Bucky is up, scooting over until he is sitting behind you, one leg on each side of you and his chest pressing against your back. You drop your head back against his shoulder as a tear leaks down your face. A pair of soft lips press to your clammy hairline and you let out a soft whimper.

“Oh, baby I know…” He hushes, his hands gently massaging the big bump you carry in front of you “It’s been so long. You’ve created such a great home for him, I don’t blame him for taking a little longer to come out.”

“Bucky, I am this close to hating our baby…” You grumble - half joking, half serious.

He let’s out a gentle chuckle “It’s that uncomfortable, huh?”

You whimper and nod, twisting your head so you can bury your face into Bucky’s neck. His hands knead into your skin gently, your fingers gently sliding in between his as they follow his movements. It slightly alleviates the pain, but you can not put into words how uncomfortable and on edge you are by the last weeks of your pregnancy.

You’ll love little Bucky with your whole heart, whole being, but the discomfort you are currently feeling has you beyond rational thought right now and you don’t know what to do anymore.

“Just a few more days, sweetheart. I feel it.” He whispers and you hum with closed eyes, trying to relax into his arms.

“You are full of shit.” You breathe out, the spot Bucky is currently rubbing seemingly moving the baby away from a painful position.

Bucky lets out a laugh and nods, understanding that you have a free pass to dismiss his kind words. He knows you are only trying to lighten the mood just as much as you know he is only trying to comfort you.

You stay like that for a while, him rubbing your bump and later your back to soothe you back to sleep. When you finally fall into a slumber, he gently lies you down and continues rubbing to keep the baby active and you get to sleep. He knows the baby becomes active the minute your body stops swaying.

After a few minutes, he can tell your legs are cramping when your face scrunches up in pain and your legs become restless. It’s been one of the side effects of your pregnancy and Bucky promised to have a serious word with your son after he comes out for hurting you so much.

Bucky’s hands move down to your thighs and massage them gently until relief washes over your sleeping features and your restlessness dissipates.

That’s when he remembers something he read on the internet. Desperate to help you out during such a difficult time, especially because you are carrying his baby and he can never repay you the way you deserve, he went searching far and wide for tips and tricks to make it easier for you. After all, he never thought having a baby was even an option for him. But now here you are, his miracle girl, carrying his little baby son.

Bucky even orchestrated a day in which he got you anything and everything to eat just to figure out your cravings and nausea-triggers early on in the pregnancy. Got you every body pillow you desired, got you the softest and most comfortable maternity pants and the sweet man told you if your boobs ever got too swollen and heavy, he would hold them for you.

How thoughtful of him.

But one thing he read, hadn’t actually crossed his mind in the past few weeks because he was so busy preparing the house and making sure you were distracted enough from the delayed birth. However, seeing you lie here now, semi-peaceful and beautiful as ever with glowing skin and a white tank top that makes your sensitive nipples poke through, Bucky licks his lips at the sight.

He is so goddamn attracted to you - it’s insane.

So his palm strokes up your thigh, his calloused fingers tracing over the seam of your underwear. Thumb lightly brushing over the centre, he presses down on the little bud at the top of your slit. Slow circles drag over your clothed clit until Bucky feels it grow more prominent to his touch.

A heavy breath leaves your lips and that is when he truly sees you relax. He should have known all his dirty girl needed was this to really wind down.

Steady circles slowly pick up their pace and a soft hum rumbles through you at the sensation, a wet patch growing between your legs as Bucky watches it eagerly. When he adds more pressure, your eyes flutter open and you let out a long moan at the feeling of him rubbing you just right.

“Bucky…” You whimper and he presses his lips to your thighs softly.

“You know what? I’m going to let nature do her job.” He decides, grinning up at you as your hazy brain tries to catch on to his words and their meaning “I’m going to get that baby out of you the same way I put it in there.”

Another moan.

“Grab a pillow, baby. Don’t want the neighbours to call the cops.”

[4-the-l0ve-0f-art]

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you…

The only words on his mind as he looked at you.

Capitano wondered how he got here. With you sleeping soundly in his arms, the warmth of your shared home seeping into his tired bones, the smell of freshly cut roses on the nightstand. If someone showed his younger self the life he was leading with you now, he would've thought he was dreaming.

He couldn't help but hold you closer as he remembered all that he had lost. All that he had seen. The stench of blood, screams of horror and helplessness surrounding him in the endless memories. Or nightmares. He wasn't sure anymore.

His mind was muddled and lost to time before you found him. You gave him an anchor. You cleared his vision. And here, in this moment, as he felt your torso move up and down as you breathed, he couldn't help but think that every breath you took was keeping him alive.

He never imagined he would find peace in his cursed lifetime. And yet, the unspoken promise of eternal love and rest between you two made itself more prominent as he spent his days with you.

I love you.

A promise.

[gumii-bearr]

hey girly — it’s my birthday today!! do you think you could write a little (spicy) something birthday themed with alt!megumi?

i just love the way you write him, urghhhhh

— yokai

WHAT!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY!!! of course i'll write some spicy gumi for you hehehehhe

thinking about... ❝ birthday girl ❞

featuring... megumi fushiguro

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, alt!megumi, megumi is so sweet i'm crying

author's note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY CUTIEEEE!!! thank u for supporting me :,)

── boyfriend!megumi who wakes you up for your birthday with soft kisses to your neck, his fingers tracing circles on your tummy, his big tattooed arms circling around you and pulling you to his chest.

── boyfriend!megumi who likes to go all out for your birthday (though he'll never admit how much he cares). the two of you spend the morning lazy, still dressed in your pyjamas while he makes you waffles with ice cream and strawberries.

── boyfriend!megumi who just worships you the entire day. he's still your grumpy megumi, but he takes extra time to take care of his girl on her birthday. I'm talking pressing kisses all over you and making you needy and desperate for him but he's taking his time with you for your birthday.

── boyfriend!megumi who eats you out in the shower, getting on his knees in front of you and hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. and that fucking look in his eyes as he stares up at you from between your legs drives you crazy.

── boyfriend!megumi who spoils you for your birthday, telling you to dress up and be ready by 6 and you're not sure what he has planned but you get ready and he surprises you with dinner (that he made himself) and then he takes you to see a movie and he uses daddy gojo money to rent out the whole cinema just for the two of you

── boyfriend!megumi who spent so much time picking out a gift, he texted nobara and maki asking a million questions about what you would like (maki was uninterested by she admits it was cute how much he cared).

── boyfriend!megumi who gets you the cute little stuffed plushie you've been eyeing for ages, and he gets you the most beautiful necklace you've ever seen and a matching anklet with a little 'M' charm.

── boyfriend!megumi who got you an anklet mostly for himself and why, you ask? because there's nothing better than you wearing an anklet with his initial dangling from it when your legs are over his shoulders as he fucks you into the mattress :)

── boyfriend!megumi who desperately groans out 'i love you' and 'you're so beautiful' as he presses on the backs of your thighs, his tatted arms glistening with sweat because no way in hell was this the first round or the last.

── alt!megumi with that darned frenum piercing that drags against the slippery walls of your cunt and forces you to roll your eyes back at how fucking good it feels.

── alt!megumi who definitely gets your initial tattooed in a heart on the inside of his wrist (though he doesn't tell you, he waits for you to see it on your own).

author's note: i hope you like it!!! i know it's short but happy birthday pookie!!

[kiwriteswords]

Drabble request—trying to explain to Hotch posting him on Instagram/making it Instagram official!

The Hard Launch [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader Drabble]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 600

TW: Age gap, social media use, non-BAU reader, Aaron Hotchner POV

Aaron Hotchner had never been one for social media. Not one bit.

To him, the value of a private life far exceeded the lure of likes and comments. 

However, as he sat across from you in the soft glow of your living room, he couldn’t help but notice the way your fingers danced with nervous energy over your phone screen. 

Penelope, who lived next door to you, had been the architect of your meeting. Her intuition had proved impeccable, as usual. Despite the age gap of twenty years between you and Hotch, the connection was undeniable. It was your youthfulness that breathed new life into his structured world, and in turn, he offered a grounding stability you cherished.

Although, in this moment, he felt from an entirely different generation.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hotch's voice was laced with caution as he watched you meticulously select a photo from your gallery.

You nodded, biting your lip in concentration. "Yes, but it has to be perfect. This isn’t just any post, Aaron. It’s us...going public. Officially."

Hotch’s brow furrowed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in thought. "And this is important because…?" His tone wasn’t dismissive, merely inquisitive. He genuinely sought to understand this slice of your world.

You paused, the selected photo of the two of you from Dave's retirement party displayed on your screen—both of you caught mid-laughter, a snapshot of genuine happiness. "It's about crafting the narrative we want to share. This," you gestured to the photo, "tells a story of joy. Of us. It’s not just for my friends but for anyone who comes across it. I want them to see the happiness we share, not just the age difference."

Hotch took the phone from your hands, studying the image. He had always been protective of his private life, especially after the tragedy with Haley and the constant threats that came with his job. But looking at the photo, the happiness evident in his usually reserved expression, he felt a rare surge of pride.

"You make a compelling argument," Hotch admitted, handing back the phone. "So, how do you make it ‘perfect’ then?"

You smiled, a sparkle of excitement in your eyes. "It’s about the caption too. It sets the tone." You started typing, your thumbs moving swiftly. "'A new chapter begins with endless possibilities,'" you read aloud, then looked up at him for approval.

"Poetic," he commented dryly, but his small, affectionate smile betrayed his appreciation. "You really think this is necessary?"

"It’s like marking a milestone," you explained, your gaze softening. "It's telling the world that this is my choice, our choice, and we’re happy. It's setting boundaries too, declaring that what matters is the narrative we choose to share and nothing else."

Understanding dawned on him then. It was a declaration, a way to control the story before others had the chance to define it for you. In his line of work, control was everything, yet here he was, learning a different kind of control—over personal perceptions and societal narratives.

"Okay, post it," Hotch said finally, the protective instinct giving way to support for your happiness. You looked at him, a mixture of relief and love washing over you, before pressing the share button.

As you set your phone aside, Hotch reached for your hand, a silent acknowledgment of the new step you both were taking. "How long until the world knows?"

You chuckled, "Give it a few minutes. Penelope probably already has the notifications on."

True to your words, within minutes your phone buzzed with Penelope’s enthusiastic approval and a stream of comments that followed. Hotch couldn’t help but feel a sense of rightness about it all. Maybe, just maybe, this social media thing had its merits, especially if it meant the world would know how proud he was to have you by his side.

[tomriddleswhcre]

how would sebastian react to mc lighting up when they see him and running to hug them.

Sebastian was taken aback for the briefest moment, his sharp wit momentarily silenced by the sight of you lighting up like the warmest Lumos charm upon seeing him. His usual composed demeanor would falter and give way to an almost unbearable boyish grin that he couldn't seem to suppress.

When you ran toward him, he would instinctively open his arms, catching you with a soft laugh that belied the swirling emotions he felt.

"Someone's missed me," he would tease, always in a voice warm with affection. However, his hug would last just a little bit longer than he'd meant for it to, his grip tightening ever so slightly as though he couldn't quite believe how much he had missed you too.

The smile remained as he put you back down, but something about his face felt a bit different, an air of vulnerability that quickly vanished beneath his usual confident facade. “Careful,” he said with a teasing lilt, “keep running at me like that, and I might start thinking you actually like me.”

Despite the teasing words, his heart would betray him, hammering in his chest as if you’d just cast an Unforgivable charm on his soul. The truth was, you lighting up like that might’ve been the most magical thing he'd seen in a long time.

[ikkyfics]

What If It Was You?

dad!James Potter x f!teacher!reader

Summary: It all started innocently enough. James noticed how kind you were. But over time, he began to notice things he probably shouldn’t have. The way your hair fell over your shoulder as you wrote something on the board. The soft sound of your laughter. The way your eyes sparkled when you looked at Harry. And for a moment, James let that forbidden thought take shape again: you at home with them, laughing, caring, belonging.

Warnings: muggle!au, suggestive

Masterlist

The school gate was nearly empty when James finally arrived, the late afternoon sun tinting the sky with shades of orange and pink. He was late — again. The traffic, work, single father life… there were so many excuses, but none of them seemed enough when he thought of the disappointed look he might find on Harry's face.

He adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath, crossing the small stone path to the entrance. The place seemed incredibly quiet at this hour. He knew he should hurry, but his steps slowed when he saw you through the half-open door.

You were facing away from him, crouched down next to Harry, and the two of you were laughing at something he couldn’t hear. James felt a pang in his chest as he watched the scene — something he couldn’t name, but that grew with each passing day since you entered their lives.

It all started innocently enough. He noticed how kind you were, how you seemed to genuinely care for every child in the room. But over time, he began to notice things he probably shouldn’t have. The way your hair fell over your shoulder as you wrote something on the board. The soft sound of your laughter, which seemed to light up the room. The way your eyes sparkled when you looked at Harry, as if he were the center of the universe for a moment.

And then there was the damn ring question. James never knew exactly why his eyes sought your left hand, but they always did. Always. And every time he didn’t find a ring there, he felt a relief that left him ashamed of himself. But the shame was never enough to erase the relief. Today, however, a new and dangerous thought struck him. He didn’t just want your hand to stay ring-free. He wanted there to be a ring there. One that he had placed. One that told the world you were his, that you were part of the small world he and Harry shared. But then you looked up, and his eyes met yours. Reality hit like a cold splash of water. You smiled at him, that warm smile that made his stomach flip, and James felt as if all his thoughts were exposed in the air between you. “You’re just in time, Mr. Potter,” you said, your voice light and sweet, but with a teasing tone he recognized. “I thought Harry was going to demand I adopt him if you didn’t show up.” The sentence hit him hard, like an unexpected punch that left him breathless for a moment. Adopt him? The word echoed in James’s mind as he looked at you, feeling a sudden and overwhelming wave of thoughts he couldn’t contain. You adopting him. You, in their life, not just as Harry’s teacher, but as… something more. He blinked a few times, trying to process the whirlwind that had formed in his mind. A brief and intimate vision appeared, so clear he could almost feel it: you, sitting next to him at the dinner table, helping Harry with his homework. You laughing as Harry tried to explain a drawing he made at school. You holding a baby in your arms — his baby — with the same sweetness you gave to every child in that classroom. James felt the air getting trapped in his lungs, a heat rising to his face. He had never considered having another child. Life as a single father was already a minefield of challenges and surprises, and he always thought it would be enough with just him and Harry. But now… now he could picture himself looking at you with a mixture of fascination and love as you held a child with unruly hair and bright eyes — a perfect mix of him and you. Harry had already mentioned how he would like to have a sibling. And you would look beautiful. He knew that. He could see the image so clearly it made his chest tighten in a nearly painful way. You with a rounded belly, full of him, wearing one of those light dresses he thought suited you. He imagined himself placing a hand there, feeling the baby move under his fingers, and the thought hit him like an electric shock, making him avert his gaze for a moment, as if he could hide the intensity of his own desires.

“Mr. Potter?” Your voice called again, laced with a hint of concern, and James realized he had been silent for too long.

“Oh, of course,” he replied, clearing his throat and forcing a smile. He ran a hand through his hair, an automatic habit whenever he was nervous. “I hope he didn’t give you enough trouble to make you reconsider.”

“Not at all,” you said, and that gentle smile he adored returned. “Harry’s a sweetheart.”

James felt something in his chest tighten again, because he believed it. He knew how special Harry was, and knowing that you saw it too, that you treated his son with such care and affection, was more than he knew how to express.

For a moment, you two just looked at each other in silence, and the world around seemed to slow down. There was something in the way your eyes met his, as if a silent current of understanding and something more was passing between you. It was intimate. Warm. A spark he didn’t know how to extinguish.

“Dad, are you going to keep staring at her forever, or can we go home?”

Harry’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade, snapping them both back to reality. James blinked quickly, looking away and feeling the heat rise to his face. He looked at his son, who was staring at him with an impatient air, though there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Sorry, champ,” James replied, clearing his throat and letting out a nervous laugh. “I think I’m more tired than I thought.”

You laughed softly, and the sound was like music to his ears. “I think we’re all tired. Have a good night, Mr. Potter. Harry.”

“Good night!” Harry replied cheerfully, giving an enthusiastic wave while holding his father’s hand.

James looked at you one last time, struggling against the urge to prolong the interaction. But he knew he had to go, even though every part of him wished to stay just a little longer.

“Good night,” he said, his voice softer than he meant, before turning and starting to walk out with Harry.

As he left, he felt his son squeeze his hand and heard his excited voice say, “Dad, I really like her. I think she’d be a great mom.”

James stopped in his tracks, his heart leaping in his chest. He looked at Harry, who was staring at him with that disarming innocence only a child could have.

And for a moment, James let that forbidden thought take shape again: you at home with them, laughing, caring, belonging. He didn’t say anything, but squeezed Harry’s hand a little tighter, thinking that, no matter how impossible it seemed, he couldn’t agree more.

[milkiclouds]

leon kennedy has a lot of moles, peppering across his body like a cosmic galaxy waiting to be connected together with the invisible ink of your fingers. most noticeable were the moles along his neck and collarbones, peeking out from his clothes and uniform. majority of them painted his back. there was a secret mole on his left hand - hiding between his pointer finger and his thumb. and a few more spreading across his arms and legs.

you had a habit of kissing his moles, every single one of them, but your favorite one to kiss was the mole on his stomach, right next to his belly button, perfectly placed to bring out the sweetest giggles every single time you did.

today was no different as you kissed his stomach, exposed from his shirt as it bunched up from his sleep. the laughter came out in uncharacteristic whines, too tired to actually squirm away.

“stop… it’s too early...”

you didn’t stop in favor of placing just a few more kisses against his stomach, the mark acting like the ‘x’ on the treasure map of his body. you finally relented, giving him once last kiss and finishing off with a gentle nibble causing him to jump and yelp in surprised laughter.

resting your head on his stomach you looked up at him as he met your loving gaze, his face flushed - another reason you loved kissing his moles.

“why do you always kiss me there?” he asked. “it’s ticklish.”

“you have a mole.”

he stared at you before letting out an exasperated chuckle at your simple response and mumbling how he didn’t understand you. yes, of course, he knew he had a mole. and while he was never insecure about them, the fact that they were the target of your lips and fingers made his heart thump in chest.

because while they were just moles to him… they were beauty marks to you.

a/n: hi i really like that they spent so much time mapping out moles on his body huhu plus i swear he has a mole on his tummy in one of the mods i swearrr lol i have a lot of moles myself and idk it made me love him more and i thought this was a cute thought hopefully i executed it okay bc i have not written in years

also dividers are by @cafekitsune bc i’m obsessed and they’re cute af

[fake-mouthstatic]

station

@118dailydrabble, day 43. bucktommy, rated G.

🔥

Buck is sitting on the couch at the station one afternoon when one of the probies appears beside him, looking a little shy.

"Hi," she says, sounding awkward yet determined.

"Hey, Alesha, right?" he replies, smiling warmly; he'd not spoken to her all that much but she seemed nice enough.

"Yeah," she says, sitting next to him. "So um, someone told me you know the pilot from that call the other day and I wondered if you know whether he's single?"

Buck grins.

"He's so hot, right?"

"So freaking hot, oh my god," she says, laughing in disbelief.

"Drives me crazy."

"So is he single?"

"Oh no, he's my boyfriend," Buck says, smiling proudly as Alesha blushes. "Sorry."

read the others here

[mari-writes]

Jayce "Man of Progress" Talis is contacted by a Piltover fashion magazine, asking him to pose for a special photograph spread along with Mel Medarda. 

He’s been interviewed and had his photo taken so many times by this point. He’s usually alone. The addition of Mel is interesting, and he can admit a bit exciting too.

But it’s also frustrating—why would they ask him to pose with Mel, but not his literal partner on the actual project?!

So he agrees, but under one condition: “You need to include Viktor, as well.”

After he receives confirmation, he takes to begging Viktor to join them. Just this once! And Viktor reluctantly agrees, weak for his friend’s pouty, puppy dog eyes.

The magazine sends designers to Viktor’s place to take his measurements. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but thankfully one of the them is knowledgable about fitting disabled models. So he’s (mostly) okay with it.

When the three of them arrive for the photoshoot, they’re impressed with what the designers created. For Jayce are outfits that show off his wide shoulders, strong arms and thighs. Meanwhile Mel’s prominent curves and her beautiful, slender neck is highlighted.

As for Viktor, the designers work with his sharp, angular features and slender waist. One outfit in particular has Viktor raising an eyebrow: It’s backless. They’ve decked out his back brace with gilded gold and blue gems.

A month later, the magazine is released—and the public goes absolutely wild.

The front cover has Jayce sitting in the middle, wearing a crisp white shirt with half its buttons undone, possessively holding the other two’s hips. Mel is facing forward, bracketing one of his legs. She wears a tight dress that leaves little to the imagination. One of her arms reaches around Jayce’s head, clasping Viktor’s shoulder.

With his back to the camera, Viktor’s brace is on full display. He’s partially sitting on Jayce’s other leg, with his arm angled as if he’s about to caress the other’s man’s cheek, glancing at the camera out of the corner of his eye.

The photo had been quite awkward to put together—Viktor winces at the memory—but he has to admit it turned out pretty incredible. And yeah, Piltover definitely agrees.

Viktor’s name, at least for a moment in time, is on the public’s lips almost as much as the other two. Who knew the reclusive scientist from Zaun was this beautiful?!

News articles and opinion pieces pop up about him, wondering why Viktor isn’t featured more. Men and women alike faun over his high cheekbones, pretty golden eyes, and slim body.

Viktor is full of embarrassment from all the attention. The other two tease him about it a bit, but they know he has every right to retreat back into the lab if he prefers. So he does. He lets the other two burn as brightly as they want, and slinks back into the shadows.

But he still keeps a copy of the magazine in his nightstand. You know, for archiving purposes. Or posterity. Or something like that. 

Sometimes, on days he’s feeling down or in more pain than usual, he takes it out and flips through the pages. Reminds himself that yeah, he looked good. And other people had thought so too. Even Jayce had blushed slightly when he saw Viktor walk out of the dressing room.

Viktor probably won’t do anything like it again. But he’s oddly glad he did. Just this once.

//

Please accept this silly little drabble I wrote last minute! PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED! I imagine this story takes place in the early years of Jayce and Viktor’s lab partnership. The story inspired by this incredible meljavik art by @lucinfernos! My bi ass can’t stop looking at it lol

[spinecouture]

sex with daryl? 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ nsfw

his movements need work, sloppy and uncoordinated. he’d rut against you and bite back whines, chewing his lip till he bled. he’d stop every few seconds, cock pulsing, angry and aching for release. but he couldn’t, not yet.

if you’re on top, he is screwed. your bouncing hips drive him crazy, making his head spin. his teeth are clenched, breaths uneven and heavy, hands gripping your waist so tight it could bruise.

he’d get so close, just for you to stop moving. he’d let out a strangled growl of defiance, pathetically pushing his hips up into yours, fucking himself on your pretty hole.

“you’re gonna cum if you don’t stop,” you’d warn him, seeing how wrecked he was.

tears prick his eyes as he cums, unable to help but push you down harder as he stuffs you full. and it’s a lot—the man’s been deprived of ejaculation for years. streams of blissful tears trickle down his cheeks, panting and heaving as he comes down from his high.

“told ya,” you’d chuckle, kissing his forehead as he whimpered.

but you’re not satisfied now, are you? because he came so quick, you just need a little more. “c’mon, angel, one more,” you’d coo, rolling your hips despite his load dripping down onto his stomach. “jus’ one more, baby, you can do it.”

daryl’s gasping and twitching, head thrashing as he tries to stop you from moving again. his limbs feel like jelly, however, and don’t give him enough push to force you off. “christ, please, don’–“

he’s cut off by you lifting your hips, before slamming them back down. he lets out something that can only be described as a cry, head thrown back into the pillows.

“shhhh,” you purr, bouncing gently. “you can take it.”

daryl shakes his head, grasping at the sheets. he’s losing his mind, so overstimulated he could die.

“can’t… can’t…”

“you can,” you assure him.

that’s when he falls apart. god, this man is a whimperer. he whines and juts his hips up into you like he can’t help it. his dick is only half hard, twitching and pulsing from overstimulation. his hands cover his face, face red hot.

“please,” he’d beg, helpless. “please, baby, stop–“

god, he feels close all over again, feeling your hips and ass jiggling in his lap. his thighs would tremble; he’s never been like this before.

“gonna cum again?” your taunting tone drives him up the wall.

a strangled whine later, he’s cumming again, panting and wheezing. his hips sputter forward, and you keep bouncing. he’s clawing your back and growling into the crook of your neck, pathetic. “christ, fuck, i’m… i can’t…”

“you’re so good,” you whisper in his ear, stroking his hair as you fucked him through his orgasm. “fillin�� me so good, baby. you’re lovely.”

he wants to argue, to snap at you for letting this happen. he doesn’t know how else to respond to such praise. he’s a wreck, close to tears from pleasure. his cock has a thick layer of lust, dripping as you finally give him a moment to catch his breath.

“i feel like i got… hit by a bus,” daryl blurts after a long moment.

“is that good?”

“hell yeah.”

[tootiecakes234]

Meeting Katsuki’s Mom for the First Time:

*you and Bakugo don’t start dating until around the age of of 25 and he’s mellowed out quite a lot.

“Are you serious?? Katsuki had worse anger issues when he was younger? There’s no way” you gushed as his mom got ready to dish up some juicy adolescent Katsuki moments.

*this is draft that I never completed but need to😭😭 I think im gonna post them all and see if anyone cares if finish them🥴

[villainbait]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Sukuna x reader | Sukuna x genderless reader Rating: 16+ Tags: brief gore mention, canon sukuna behavior, angst, thriller, horror if you squint, drama, reincarnation, Summary: "I will find you." In your past life, you were Sukuna's jailer. In this one, you're simply an office worker hoping the King of Curses has simply forgotten you. Word Count: 750~ A/N: Sorry for the Sukuna jumpscare? I feel like most of you follow me for Sylus/LADS content, but I wrote this drabble as a warm up. ♥

“Hey, did you hear?” 

You half tune out the notorious office gossip, though you’d be lying if you didn’t sometimes enjoy hearing the petty drama happening within jujutsu society. The two in suits next to you were hardly attempting to keep their voices down, anyway. 

“The King of Curses is back.” 

You choke on your food. 

“Yeah man, he manifested after a thousand years inside some pink haired high school kid. Kid isn’t even a sorcerer, everyone’s shocked he didn’t die.” You took a chance and peeked at the guy sharing the gossip just in time to see him look disgusted. “I heard he actually ate the finger. What kind of psychopath just eats a cursed object, sorcerer or not?”  

Unbidden, a memory surfaced. 

“I will always find you, in every life if I must.” His four hands wrap around the bars despite the barrier and you feel the cursed energy keeping him confined shudder, but the wards hold fast as he slams himself against his cage. “You cannot escape me.”

The threat rings in your head like it was uttered yesterday, instead of a thousand years ago. 

“Get this, rumor is kid can control him.” 

You can’t help the dry snort of laughter that makes them look at you strangely but you ignore them and take a bite of your food that suddenly tastes like sandpaper as you fight the bubbling panic. 

The thought of your life being in the hands of a teenager’s control didn’t comfort you. You pulled out your phone and thumbed through your contacts, your finger hovering over Gojo Satoru’s number. Even if the head of the Gojo clan did answer your unknown call (unlikely), he was so lackadaisical that you had little hope of him taking you seriously at all.

The rest of the day ends in a blur of boring meetings and other tedious jobs that are handed down to worker bees like you and your other coworkers. Once or twice you were reprimanded by your superior for your lack of attention, but the conversation kept replaying that you had overheard at lunch; distracting you.

You tried to console yourself with the thought that Sukuna might have forgotten you, knowing full well he would never forget his gaoler. As you made your way to the train station, your anxiety eased with the realization that he didn’t know what you looked like in this century. You were lucky to have been reincarnated with a face that did not look like the original one you wore when you had met Ryomen Sukuna a thousand years ago when you had imprisoned him.

With his threat still ringing faintly in your ears, you stepped up to the yellow line and waited; your mind adrift as another long forgotten memory swirled beneath the surface.

His breath feathers across your ear and you shudder. “Beg me,” he murmurs, clawed fingertips raking across your stomach with a deceptively delicate touch. He could slice right through you, and you both knew it. “Beg me to save you.” 

“Sukuna,” you whispered his name with reverence and heard his breath catch from behind you. “Sukuna please, they’re coming.” 

“I’ll hear your explanation after,” he hissed and released you abruptly, joy splashing across his face at the prospect of a fight. It’s over before it had a chance to begin, the group of Heian sorcerers reduced to mere ribbons of flesh piled neatly on the ground. In an odd twist of fate, they had been hunting you, not Sukuna and he wanted to know why. It was clear you had intrigued him. 

“Weak.” Condescension drips from his tone, clearly unimpressed by their prowess and power. He flicks the remnants of flesh and blood from his fingers as if such filth is not worthy to touch his skin. 

He stalks towards you with the lazy ease of a prowling beast and you desperately want to run again. Not that you’d make it a single step, so you don’t even try. He reaches for you–

The announcement snaps you out of your thoughts as you’re pushed towards the entrance of the train.

“Rapid train bound for Shinjuku will be arriving at platform 3 shortly. Please stand back behind the yellow line and wait.”

Little did you know as you boarded the train, a certain pink-haired young man had been standing four rows down, staring curiously at you the entire time as a certain curse sweetly whispered convincingly to him.