#THE drabble

[catofthecanals289]

little max maybe please?

oh i wrote this ages and ages ago and it's the beginning of something kinda long but never published. hope you enjoy this little snippet of it anyway

--

Max is ten years old when he finds his mother’s packed bag hidden under a pile of laundry in a basket by the washer.

It’s the first day of the second week of school tomorrow and Max wants to wear his Sponge Bob shirt again because Willem, the boy who’s been seated next to Max said it was cool and they hadn’t talked much more that week because Willem likes playing soccer during breaks and talking to Fabian and Ruben who Max got into a fight with last year, but that first day he’d been nice and he’d asked Max if he thought Patrick was stupid too, if he found Sandy as annoying as he did and Max had had to admit that he never actually watched much Spongebob that the shirt was a gift by his uncle but Willem hadn’t seemed bothered so Max wants to wear the shirt again.

But he hadn’t found the shirt in his closet, so he’d asked his mom about it and she’d told him to not bother her, that she didn’t have time for this now, that she needed to go and do grown up stuff and that Max should be a good boy and leave mommy alone now.

She’d looked over her shoulder, had looked at Max, had looked at the hallway and back at him. She’d smiled tightly and she’d cupped his cheek for a moment, soft and gentle. But she hadn’t said anything else, so Max had run back up to his room, had checked the closet again only to still not find the shirt.

Victoria had been sitting in her room, door open, loudly making vroom noises, playing with her Barbie doll in her Barbie car and Max hadn’t asked if he could play with her, even if his dad was nowhere to be seen. He’d been still little and Victoria even little when their dad had caught Max playing with Victoria and her dolls, but Max still remember show much she had cried, how she’d wailed and hit her little fists on the floor because dad crushed the pink plastic car under the heel of his boot, when he’d ripped her doll out of Max’s hand tossed it into the trash.

Max had cried too, he thinks, but only after, and only because his cheek had hurt so much and his knuckles even more, bruised and aching because he’d still been holding the car, because he hadn’t let go in time.

But Max doesn’t want to play Victoria anyway, doesn’t care about stupid girl stuff like Barbies, knows now that boys don’t ever like those things, that there’s a difference between dolls and action figures, that there are things that are for you and others decidedly aren’t. And that’s that.

So Max had turned away from Victoria’s door and he’d climbed the stairs down into the basement and had not been scared of the laundry room and it’s cold tiles and little spiders in the corners unlike Victoria who always shrieks when she sees one. But she’s barely eight, she’s a baby, and Max isn’t anymore.

Still, when he finds the packed bag, he doesn’t understand. Even less when he finds another, close to it with stuff in it, that’s not his mom’s but Max’s. There’s the yellow Sponge Bob shirt, and his favorite trainers that he couldn’t find the other day and- And one of Victoria’s dresses, one of her books, it’s-

“Mom, are we going on vacation?” he asks, when he’s back upstairs, looking up at her, the Spongebob shirt clutched in his hand.

“What?” she says, distracted again, turning with a frown on her face that turns into a weird kind of smile quickly enough. “Honey, no. No, why would you say that?”

Chewing on his lip, Max shifts from one foot to the other. She sounds weird, voice waiver and wrong, but she does that a lot lately. “Because of the bags? Downstairs?”

“Oh.” Her breath hitches, and again she looks over her shoulder before crouching down, getting more on eyelevel with him. “Max, schatje, listen.” She smiles, again, but again, it makes Max’s stomach feel funny in a bad way. “The bags have to be our little secret, yes? Just you and me, my love.”

“But why?” Max frowns. He still doesn’t understand why the bags are there in the first place, much less why they would have to be a secret.

“Because- Because it’s a surprise,” she says after a pause, hand son his shoulders, grip a little too tight, making Max squirm. “So we can’t tell anyone. That we’ll go on a trip. Because that would ruin the surprise.”

 Still frowning, Max shakes his mother’s hands off.

“A trip where?” he asks, but in the same moment the sound of the front door interrupts them, and his mother’s expression warps, a flash of something there, then another smile, even worse as she puts her finger to her lips, a quiet request for Max’s silence, as Max’s father makes his way into the kitchen.

“Hey, buddy,” he greets Max.

Max’s mom stands there, still, right where she is, looks at Max, then at his father. She doesn’t say anything, and Max’s father doesn’t either. Not to her. He’s mad at her, Max knows because of something that happened at the barbecue last week. She’d been talking to this neighbor and Max’s dad had gotten angry and-

Max doesn’t know. He’d taken Victoria by her hand and ran to the garage with her to show her the racing track he came up with and drew on the driveway with chalk, and that had been good, that had been better. He doesn’t know what happened, just knows that his parents haven’t been talking since that day, only icy silence between them.

“Hey, dad,” Max had said dutifully and he hadn’t said anything about the packed bags, not then, not ever.

Not even that night not even a week later, when Max woke up while it was still dark to his Mom shaking him, his jacket already thrown over her arm.

“You have to get up, Max,” she’d said quickly, voiced hushed. “Honey, please. Put on your jacket. Hurry.”

She hadn’t waited for him to move, she’d pulled on his arm, had made him sit up, and stand up, had put shoes on his feet and he’d still been in his pyjama’s and she hadn’t answered when he’d asked her what was happening, why he couldn’t keep sleeping, if something was wrong, where his dad was.

“That trip, I told you about?” she’d said between putting his jacket on him and making him hold his backpack. “Our secret? We’re going on it now. You, me, and Vicky. It’s going to be so much fun, I promise. But we have to hurry. We have to leave now.”

“But-” Max had said, confused and upset, scared by her fluttery voice and moving around. The back and forth, the here and there, it’d been- “But what about dad?”

[cloudbattrolls]

It's Too Cliché

Crista Condyl | A Remote Beach | Present Night

Crista brooded over their coffee cup. Well. They sulked, more like, but let them have this. They deserved it. They needed it.

The wizard leaned back in the old but comfortable recliner. They were currently in a little rentable beach cottage they liked to return to when they could, since it was often empty. 

If it wasn’t when they got there, they could activate their ward on the place that made whoever was there pack their things and get going in a hurry, manifesting an illusion of whatever problem with the hive would get them going fastest by using their subconscious fears as a base. 

The little wooden building wasn’t the nicest place - hence why it was often empty - and yet another draft came whistling through the poorly insulated walls, but a few wards for warmth and protection made it safe and comfortable enough. They couldn’t do too much - didn’t want to attract attention from any other passing magic users, even if the chance was low. 

Or worse and much more likely, undead. 

Ghosts were easily kept out, but a horde of zombies was a slightly bigger issue.

They sighed, taking a sip of the hot beverage, just having poured it from the place’s coffeemaker. The blend was good, at least; they’d bought it with money from their last job. Nice and smooth, with tones of hazelnut.

Often they liked tea, but right now? Right now was a coffee moment, for sure and absolute certain. The heels of their lavender boots drummed against the floor as they considered their situation.

Two! Two crazy…attachments!

As if one wasn’t enough. At least the first one could just be put down to Catill being unfairly gorgeous and talented. Who wouldn’t be a bit smitten with a woman that impressive and a little frightening to boot?

But there was no way to explain away Kormut as anything but. That. 

Pale feelings. 

Ugh.

A blueblood! A ruddy blueblood of all things! Didn’t that cap it all. Granted, he was hardly typical…but still. He’d far outlive them. They could hardly go out together without getting looks for what a ridiculous caste gap there was.

Even thinking about that was crazy! Kormut probably didn’t see them that way at all. What a silly thought. They’d look so stupid if they told him how they felt.

‘Oh hello, Kormut dear, I’ve fallen in pale with you. Want to go out for dinner? Presuming we can get you to a restaurant without major injury or the food all spoiling on arrival.’

He’d be nice about it, but probably confused, trying to let them down gently. Ughhh, so awkward! 

Catill…

She’d made that little world for them, hadn’t she? Such a beautiful place…so well done, so well lit and that gorgeous sky, the detail on those lanterns…had she really meant it as…?

If she had - oh gods, what were they supposed to do? Try to impress her again? What if it failed? What if they were assuming too much?

Well. If they had, they’d just…laugh it off! That’s right. Everything could be laughed off. Haha, whoops, I thought you might be flush-flirting! With me! Haha, that’s sure a funny mistake I made, oopsie daisy, my bad. Please don’t rot my brain.

But if they were right…

Catill. Gathering mushrooms. Casting a spell. Moonlight shining pink and green on her white hair. That tiny little curled part of her horns that seemed so delicate. The way her face looked when she teased them…they wanted a closer view of that expression.

Crista coughed on their drink, hot brown liquid dousing the back of their throat and arcing back into their warm cream mug patterned with daisies.

Women, perpetually their undoing. 

Well, in for beetle, in for a caeger. Even if they were imagining things, might as well have fun, right? Plus, they had an idea…

They finished off their coffee and decided to retire for the night, but they knew what they’d do next evening, right after breakfast.

—

“Oh, boo.” They complained, down on their hands and knees among the beach’s rocks and tide pools, the damp sand clinging to their bare skin and clothes. “There has to be some somewhere! Right? Surely everyone didn’t take it all already…”

They squinted through their glasses, which were after all supposed to help with their farsightedness, and which they suspected might need a prescription update sometime, since they had neglected it for…almost a sweep. 

Of course, it couldn’t be anywhere that used an imperial database. That was the bother of it, and of so many other things. 

Oh, sure, they had fake IDs and the like, they could fog a mind or two…but you never knew what sort of mind readers, empaths, or nullifiers such a place might have on staff. They had a good read on magical energy, but their own psi being so weak, they weren’t much good at sniffing out how powerful someone else might be on that way.

“What are you looking for, fellow?”

They looked up, ears flicking in alarm as they startled from the sudden voice.

Oh, that was a tall oliveblood. 

They didn’t know greens got that gangly - well, gangly wasn’t the right word, this person was stouter and curvier than that. 

They had a nice voice, too, fairly deep and mellow, and their hair was…red, huh. Dyed, clearly, they could see the black roots, but red nonetheless. 

They also wore sunglasses, even though it was a cloudy night.

Well, whatever. Some people had things to hide, other trolls just liked the aesthetic, silly as it looked.

“Sea glass, seen any?” Crista saw no reason to lie; this person didn’t seem aggressive. 

Not yet, anyway. 

“Hmm, no, sorry.” They genuinely sounded a bit apologetic. “What do you need it for?”

“Uh.” They paused. “I want to make a sort of…miniature fountain thing…for a friend. I thought pieces of it would be good decoration, nice for lights to shine through.”

The midblood put a hand - with red claw polish - to their mouth as they laughed delightedly.

“Sweet thing to do! I’ll help you look if you do me a favor; you haven’t seen any trolls with jade pins around here, have you? Ones shaped like crowns?”

Crista shuddered. “Absolutely not, and if I had I’d scarper. Don’t ever want to tangle with those…people.” The rust said, with the clear impression that they would have happily used a different and far more negative noun.

“Smart! Now this one’s stranger, but bear with me; how about mannequins? Any clothes mannequins in places they shouldn’t be?”

Crista startled. “Thought that was just some urban legend rubbish. You’re telling me it’s true?”

“Not sure yet.” The tall troll said casually. “So you haven’t?”

“I’ve seen one from a distance in the woods one time…I thought it was just a prank.” They admitted.

“Maybe so.” Replied the olive amicably. “Either way, thanks. So where do you want me to look?”

“Uh.” Crista was surprised the olive was holding up their end of the deal, and blinked a few times. 

“Er, over at the other end of the beach would be helpful, I haven’t looked down there yet. Um, thanks.” They added as they gestured with a pointer finger, somewhat awkward but sincere.

“It’s nothing.” Said the green, laughing again as they turned and walked the other way down the strip of sand. 

Crista realized the troll hadn’t given their name, but well, they hadn’t given theirs either. Not that the carefree midblood seemed too fussed either way.

They kept looking, but only found a few small pieces, and sighed. At least they’d picked up a half-dozen nice shells, too…they brushed the sand off their hands and stuck them into the cold sea for a few moments, then shook them off.

The olive came back with - with - heavens, how had they possibly found that much? Sea glass of multiple colors glimmered in their hands, easily over a dozen pieces of it. 

“Wh -“ Crista sputtered, honestly a little jealous, adjusting their glasses to make sure they were seeing correctly. “How? Are you psychic? What’s your secret?”

The midblood laughed again. “Nothing very dramatic, I promise.” 

They handed it over, the smooth pieces pouring out of their darker-skinned hands into Crista’s pale ones as the maroon blinked in disbelief. The wizard put them in their sylladex with the others, noting that the other troll hadn’t answered their question. 

Definitely a strange one…but they supposed they shouldn’t question someone who had helped them for the low price of answering two questions.

The olive nodded cheerfully, then turned and began to walk away. Crista watched them go…then called out.

“Wait, I…what IS your name?”

“Djimin.” Said the troll easily. 

“Thank you, Djimin.”

They tipped their head with a fond smile, and then walked away further, vanishing from the maroon’s sight.

Crista looked up at the moons, the pink one a mere sliver, the green one soft and gibbous. 

Moonlight on white hair. Moonlight on water. Moonlight streaming through glass, as if it were a current unto its own, particle and wave and liquid all at once.

They hoped their idea would be enough.

—

Keeping the water starry had stumped them for a hot minute, but what did any wizard worth their salt do? Cheat. 

In this case, enchant the water to draw a reflection from water on whatever part of the planet was currently experiencing nighttime.

Said water flowed from a pot Catill herself had made from the clay they’d found and shared with her, looping up and back down into it in an infinite spiral. 

When she’d given it to them, it had been the first time their face had warmed because of the yellowblood…

Ack! So sappy. Why did she do this to them? 

Well. That wasn’t exactly a mystery…she was everything a witch should be. Powerful. Ruthless. Imperious. 

Beautiful.

Kind to them. Even though she was so much stronger. 

Crista looked at their own rippling reflection in the water. Not bad. Not amazing, either. So-so, but it was amazing what a little confidence and some magical talent did for you…

Among ordinary trolls. For her, it would require more.

They swallowed a sip of ordinary water from a glass, then prepared to speak the final spell to complete the piece they had planned. It didn’t do to go dry-mouthed in the middle of an incantation.

Everything was laid out on the worn wooden table in front of them, the old brown thing a bit rotted and worn by the sweeps and salt air. But it still held, and would for a while longer.

They looked at the page they had written it on, at the sea glass carefully placed in the appropriate sections of a magical array. Their maroon eyes wandered over the shells they had gathered, and the crystallized mana they had borrowed - from Catill - to aid in this spell and make sure they wouldn’t pass out after casting it.

Crista had even cleansed themself with saltwater beforehand, and said a quiet prayer to the spirits they hoped were listening.

One night they’d hear them again. Right?

“O éiríonn uiscí agus fite fuaite le chéile, ag éirí mar ghloine go scarann ​​tú arís…”

Gaelige. Of all the languages they knew - though many only in bits and pieces - it felt right for this spell. These were the words of making.

Words through which magic flowed, pouring through reality to mingle with the mundane and elevate it to so much more.

As they spoke, the simple clay container unfolded into a miniature fountain. It became three-tiered, decorated with small leaping cats and perching parrots, the baked earth turning a rich golden yellow.

The sea glass all melded together and adhered to it in decorative engravings in its many shimmering blues and greens, delicately accenting the animals’ eyes, along with the tips of their fur and feathers. The shell covered the edges of the tiers, in soft pearlescent and striped-brown hues.

The water itself could turn to starry glass with a simple command, capturing the constellation that its water reflected at the time. Yet it could also be returned to the flow and become its native shape again.

If someone who so happened to be skilled with light shined their power through the liquid…

It would radiate like a galaxy.

Crista breathed heavily, sweating with effort despite their preparations. Oh…that had taken…

They sat down heavily on the old recliner again. They could stay awake, but only barely.

Perhaps Catill would have to wait a little longer, just a bit…but what a present they’d have for her.

Something made by - and at its best with - both their talents.

Magic was better when shared, after all. 

[classyrbf]

cheerleader!reader riding nerd!toji in the locker room afterschool. You’d basically be shunned by your team if they ever found out you were fucking a nerd, but you just couldn’t resist him. He wasn’t an ordinary, stereotypical type of nerd. He was the type who kept to himself, very nonchalant, and only conversed with a few people, but he also was very smart, not to mention muscular (he must hit the gym in his free time). It’d be a shame if he didn’t put those muscles to use. You’re a bit of a slut, practically slept with the entire football team and none of them had you whipped like Toji. His big hands, his thick cock, his muscular arms, they all just fit so perfectly in or on you.

Your skirt is hiked up, panties pushed to the side as you ride him on the bench, the loud sound of skin clapping echoing through the locker room. “Nnngh—fuck! Your cock feels so good!” You pant, slamming your hips down on his, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. “I swear—ah! Don’t tell anyone about this! I’ll make your life hell!” You threaten through your moans, biting down on your lip.

“I…I won’t.” He shakes his head, running his hands over your inner thighs, eyes glued to the way your pussy sinks down onto his glistening cock. “Fuck…your pussy feels too good,” he rasps, his hands reaching up to grip your waist.

“Don’t you dare cum in me! Mmmph, I can feel you throbbing!” Your mouth is saying one thing but your mind is saying another. You’d absolutely love to see his cum dripping from your pussy, but you can’t take any chances. But your hips keep on moving and your pussy keeps on clenching down on him like a vice, milking his cock.

“Shit, shit! S-slow down!” He tries to halt your movements, but you slap his hand out the way. “Stop! You’re gonna make me fucking cum! Ah! Nnngh!” His eyes squeezed shut as you went faster, bouncing on his cock like a bitch in heat.

“I…I can’t…stop.” Your eyes glaze over, like your in a trance, your sloppy pussy squelching with each movement and before you know it toji dumps his hot load inside of you, the sheer feeling making you cum with him. “Oh my god! Yes!” You rock your hips back and forth, his cock massaging against your g-spot. Your body twitches above his for few moments, both of you catching your breath. “Keep your mouth shut about this.” You warn, slowly lifting your hips, his cum oozing out slowly. A soft whimper leaves your lips as you stand to your shaky feet, fixing your skirt. “Ugh now I need to get a plan b.”

“I told you to get off,” he plainly said. “Not my fault.”

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Perhaps they ought not to have eaten the dragon. There had been people objecting to it at the time. Surely such meat was poisonous. Perhaps it was even an affront, an insult to some intangible order of nature they ought to honour.

But the city was starving, the siege had gone on too long, and the king's troops were still a week's march away. The scorched earth would be fertile again in time, but right now it was barren. Right now there were mouths to feed. So they changed their crossbows for butcher knives and got to work.

None of the royal commanders asked any questions that could not be answered. After all, their aid had come shamefully late. The dragon's horned skull made a noble gift, a fitting tribute from a triumphant city to its humbled king. Who would have thought to question them?

And none of the townsfolk spoke up, when the first golden-eyed babes were born. Children who grew up barefoot and fearless, clambering over the city's patched and rebuilt roofs like they had no notion of falling, with a strange glitter to their skin when the sunlight hit it just so. No one breathed a word about dragons.

Because soon enough there were deft, young hands taking loaves straight out of the oven, heedlessly lifting iron from the forge, plunging into boiling laundry water. And some of them more wondrous still, wild, warm-skinned youths, with inexplicable knowledge and peculiar remedies.

A blessing, their families said proudly. A blessing after so much hardship. Which it was, in its way. This city would never fear dragon fire again.

[white-poppie]

𐙚 ‧₊˚ Thinking 'bout Older!Toji <33

Older!Toji who very clearly needs reading glasses but refuses to wear them because "he doesn't need it." So he's just squinting his eyes trying to read whatever is written on the newspaper.

Older!Toji who's your biggest hypeman; you'll find him whistling "damn mama" at anything you wear, sweatpants, large ugly t-shirts? He's hyping you up like you're wearing designer clothes, his hands constantly on your butt, smacking whenever he has a chance. And if you whine cutely, he'll just chuckle and do it again!

Older!Toji who just refuses to fight with you even if it's for valid reason. You'd be screaming at him, and he'll wait till you tire out and just look at you with a coy smirk and say, "You done, baby?" ugh, he's so annoying.

Older!Toji, who has this weird thing where he squishes your face and then leans down to kiss your puckered lips with an audible smooch.

Older!Toji who's super clingy in the morning (contrary to popular belief) and just sags half of his body weight on you, and you can barely move. " 'jus five more mins ma," he'd whisper in his hoary voice and you'd have no choice but to relent.

Older!Toji who doesn't have the energy he used to have in his younger years, so after particularly tiring days, he just wants to lay his head on your lap and have you run your fingers through his hair and he's out like a baby...except the fact his snores could wake up the entire neighbourhood.

Older!Toji who loves wearing the black compression shirt and grey sweatpants combo just to see you salivate over him. He pats his thighs and gestures for you to sit on his lap before burying his nose in your neck and pressing a kiss on your shoulder.

Older!Toji fell in love with you all over again when he let you shave his face after you insisted. He just looks up at you with his intense eyes, being so silent you can't even tell if you accidentally hurt him or something, and after you're done, he grabs your hand and whispers out, "I swear to god, I am gonna marry you again."

[chelliebelle]

kento's the type of husband to rub your tummy every chance he gets, smiling sweetly whenever you give him a confused look. you don't mind the warmth of his hands and the gentle pads of his fingers against your skin, even growing fond of it. it isn't until he's balls deep and you're being split open on his cock that you realize the reason behind his habit.

"fuck—m'all the way here, sweetheart?" kento pants, splaying a large palm justttt under your belly button, making you whine and nod weakly.

"good, that's how deep i'm gonna breed you." any word of complaint on your lips dies the moment kento slings your leg over his shoulder, hitting a spot that makes your back arch pathetically. the menace just chuckles, rubbing your belly soothingly as he messes up your insides.

when—and only when—your poor aching cunt is spilling with his cum, does he press the softest kisses on your tummy, looking up at you with hearts in his eyes.

"do you think it's gonna take? i hope it's a girl."

[kisssukuna33]

Sukuna is the type of husband who NEEDS to hold you when he sleeps.

Before he started being in a relationship with you Sukuna had trouble finding sleep in most nights, probably due to his bad working routine and messy habits that got fixed after you came into his life. And now he can't sleep unless his wife is safely wrapped in his arms.

You could be watching TV after a day at work and Sukuna will come home next probably tired as hell and in need of a nap. He is quick to wrap his arms around your hips and gently take you into his arms as he carries you to the shared bedroom, Despite your endless protests asking him to take a shower first,

"Kuna you stink, go take a shower first"

"Calling your husband stinky? You wound me darling"

"Sukuna please.."

"Fine then, but we shower together"

"But I just showered-

"Too bad brat"

When it's time for sleep, he patiently waits till you're done with your skincare routine. And if you take way too much time for some reason, like your friend calling you at the last minute to spill the hot gossips of the day Sukuna is there to remind you he's ready and set for his bedtime by scoffing loudly enough for you to hear. Petty man.

Taking a pee at night? Grabbing a late night snack because you're hungry? Those are impossible to do without waking Sukuna up. The moment you sit up in the bed, he's already awake, grumbling in his sleep and asking what the hell are you doing before pulling you back to his arms.

That one time you managed to sneak out of the bed without waking Sukuna up. You mentally praised yourself for the victory as you snuck in to the kitchen to eat the last piece of the chocolate cake. Before you can even take 3 bites you hear footsteps behind and when you turned to look, it's half awake and half asleep Sukuna with the blanket hanging by his hips like a toddler who ran out of their bedroom searching for their mom. He's scrutinizing his eyes at you, trying to figure out what the hell are you doing. Then he sees the chocolate cake and the icing around your lips and his face instantly takes a betrayed expression.

"Kuna-"

"So you left your husband, all alone, in this fucking cold weather just for chocolate cake?"

"We have a heater-"

"That's not the point, the point is how a chocolate cake worth more than your husband"

"okay now you're being dramatic"

"This is straight up gluttony"

"Sukuna!!"

It's gotten bad to the point where you can't even sleep one night away without feeling guilty because you know this man is wide awake and restless without you in the bed. Yet you wouldn't change a single thing. The way Sukuna's strong arms wrap around you, keeping you warm and safe while soft hum of his snores disappearing into the crook of your neck, it's everything you will ever need.

And you hope it never changes.

[priceoftheduchess]

thinking of old, retired!simon riley who hangs out pubs in his free time. he’s a tank of muscle, with a soft layer of fat over it all. he’s got the peak dad bod, and he’s a bit tanner than he was from working in his back garden. his tattoos are lining his body and he is scrumptious.

and he meets you. young little thing, sweetest bird he’s ever seen. shining, soft grins and plump, curvy edges.

he nearly drops to his knees to pray for you to grace him with your presence when you do it on your own volition. he forgot he was even playing blackball, the cue still held tightly in his hand. he was just practicing, just a hobby.

“mm, can ye teach me how to play?” you ask, and you’ve got a thicker accent than he does. he drinks it up, with a straw and all. he nods, handing you a freshly chalked cue.

you struggle enough to learn the mechanics for him to decide to stand behind you, front pressed to your back as he bends you over with his body weight — one hand on your waist and the other steadying your cue as you aim to break.

fuck. he’s so hot, burning even through your skimpy dress. his voice rumbles in your ear,

“c’mon, birdie, just steady y’rself. even out yer breathin’.” he instructed, as patient as ever.

you beat him when you guys actually started playing! yay! and then… you decided to make a silly little bet.

“if you can beat me,” you whispered in his ear, liquid temptation mixed with the way you were pulling him by his shirt collar down to your level — you knew he could easily beat you — “i’ll go home with you.”

simon has never won a game of blackball so fast.

[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

[milla-frenchy]

Thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️

Marrying Javi

217 words, 18+ mdni, smut. Thank you @aurorawritestoescape 💕💕

This is for @evolnoomym 's first birthday party 🥳 prompt: Javi - getting married

masterlist

“Say it again,” he asks, almost begs, as he pushes his length inside your warmth.

“Say… say what?” you whimper.

“Say ‘I do’.”

His movements are slow, his arms slipping under your shoulders. He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs and you’re in your favorite place in the world. Against him, under him. Filled by him.

You stroke his hair at the back of his neck.

“I do,” you breathe. “I do, Javi.”

“Again,” he demands, thrusting so slowly between your folds. Brushing against that spot in a way that always makes you come.

You wish it would never end. You wish you could stay with him, in this bed, forever.

“Please,” he begs this time. His brown eyes boring into yours. 

You smile, knowing you’re the only one he looks at like that. Knowing that this look is the most beautiful you have ever seen. His soft gaze changes and becomes playful.

“Do I have to stop to make you say it again?” he teases.

“No! Please, don't stop.” Your pleas put a smirk on his face. “I do. I fucking do, Javi,” you whine, just before cumming on his cock, just before he fills you.

He takes your hand and places a kiss on it. Right where there is a ring now, matching his own.

javi p masterlist

[yourname-exee]

Gojo's wife is calm, collected and well all around mature, much like Nanami. So when someone was taken by surprise that your last name was Gojo and not Nanami, that was the first time Satoru Gojo felt true heart break, his throat closed up and he thought he was about to blast this person into the sun. Is this what seeing red is like?

Buut of course his very sweet and understanding wife, simply placed herself into his side, hand pressing against his chest running it up and down as you say gently.

'Nope, this tall handsome fella is my husband.'

With the proudest smile on your face Satoru couldn't stay upset for long especially when you looked up at him with those soft eyes, he hooks his arm around your waist before standing up straighter a smile spreading across his lips, a cheeky smile some would say, as he responded with.

'That's right.'

(divider made by @adornedwithlight )

[cuntyji]

nerdjo by mvtchaee

[kashverse]

“i don’t get you,” sukuna mutters, arms resting on his knees as he stares at your cat, who sits primly on the floor, tail flicking lazily. “you’re small. your head is tiny. you have no claws worth a damn, and yet you strut around like you own this place.”

your cat blinks at him slowly. the audacity.

“oh, so now you’re being mysterious? yeah, real intimidating, runt,” sukuna scoffs, leaning in. “tell me, why the hell do you scream at five in the morning for no reason?”

your cat meows. sukuna nods, as if that was an actual answer.

“nah, i don’t buy it. i know when someone’s bullshitting me.” he strokes his chin, as if deep in thought. “and what’s with the scratching? you have a whole damn tree to tear up, but no, it’s gotta be the couch, huh? or my chair. my throne in this shitty modern world.”

your cat remains utterly unfazed, licking a paw and dragging it over its ear. sukuna clicks his tongue in frustration.

“you think you’re untouchable. you think you can do whatever you want just ‘cause you’re small and cute?” he narrows his eyes. “you remind me of someone.”

you narrow your eyes right back from your hiding spot behind the doorway. excuse me?

but sukuna is too deep in his investigation to notice. he gestures toward your phone lying face-down on the table. “and what’s with you and cameras huh? every time there’s a flash, you go feral. you act like you’re being dragged to hell.”

your cat’s ears twitch. a clear tell.

“ohhhh,” sukuna smirks, leaning in like he’s caught onto something juicy. “what, you got a dark past? you some kinda criminal? don’t want your face out there ‘cause you’re on a hit list?”

the cat swipes at sukuna’s knee, and he actually pulls back with a scoff. “oi, don’t get violent with me, brat. i asked a simple question.”

you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“i should make you my disciple,” sukuna suddenly muses, tilting his head as he assesses the feline before him. “you got the attitude down. the little mind games. yeah… you could be something great.”

your cat sneezes.

sukuna frowns, as if personally offended. “...you’re turning down my offer? just like that?”

he sits back with a dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “unbelievable. you’re worse than your owner.”

excuse me again???

before you can march in and object, your cat gets up, stretches leisurely, and then—just to really assert dominance—turns around and sticks its tail right in sukuna’s face before trotting off.

he stares after it, jaw clenched, eye twitching.

“…i’m gonna eat it.”

you finally lose the battle against your laughter.

[classyrbf]

thinking about classmate!gojo who has no idea that the shy, nerdy girl in his class is secretly a perv who has a massive crush on him and has been trading nudes with him. From the moment you saw him in your lecture, glistening blue eyes and fluffy white hair, you immediately could feel your heart pounding. He was so cute, so handsome, and god his muscles drove you crazy, not to mention his smile. He’s only glanced your way a few times, though, but it wasn’t until you went on your fake account and began sending such lewd pictures of your body to him that he started noticing you. To your surprise, he actually sent one back and from there on out, you chatted every day.

You shouldn’t have been shocked to find out that he had a pretty cock too. Lengthy and thick with a pretty pink tip, just waiting to be sucked and fucked. Everytime you scrolled through your chats, your hands always found a way in your pants, rubbing at your little aching clit. You’d get so worked up, so wet, sending him videos of your dripping pussy, fucking yourself on your fingers just for him. He’d send a video back, jerking his cock, his heavy breathing and soft moans in the background. “God, baby, you have such a pretty pussy, you know that?” He chuckles. And the next morning, you’re both back to being complete strangers. He’s sitting in his seat on the other side of the room, obnoxiously tapping his pencil, completely unaware that you’re fawning over him, getting wet just thinking about him.

Sometimes you even leave class to slip into the bathroom, pulling your skirt up and snapping a picture of your cunt or unbuttoning your shirt to snap a picture of your tits just to hit send to him. And when Gojo gets the notif in class, the professors words going in one ear and out the other while he hides his phone to stare at the pictures you sent, his cock growing hard. And still, he has no idea that it’s you.

gojo: send a video of you playing with yourself for me, yeah?

Without hesitation, you listen. You’re in the bathroom stall, skirt hiked up while you quietly finger your soaked cunt, showing your slicked coated fingers to the camera. And a few minutes later, you walk back into class, watching gojo look down at his phone, trying so hard to pay attention but failing so miserably.

Later that night, Gojo is in his bed, fucking his fist to your pictures and videos, scrolling through your chats and messages, his cock throbbing in hand. “Fuck, I wish I knew what you looked like,” he muttered under his breath, pressing play on a video of you fucking your dildo, your ass bouncing up and down on the silicone. “I could fuck you so much better, baby. Have you screaming, begging, crying for my dick,” he grunted, following your pace. His eyes are fixated on your pussy, drooling over how it grips the toy, your juices dripping down it while your ass jiggles. Just as he’s about to cum, he clicks off your video and presses record, making sure to capture the moment to send to you. “Look at what you fucking do to me,” he rasps, and seconds later he’s cumming all over himself, moaning, grunting, swearing under his breath.

All you can do is smile when you get the video, giggling to yourself. His toned abs flexing underneath the light when he cums, throbbing veins decorating his thick cock. He’s just so perfect to you. A few seconds later he messages you.

gojo: when you gonna let me see your pretty face?

you: you’ve already seen it <3

part 2

[rissouu]

“say sorry.” choso spat, voice laced in anger as he pushed shoved your legs further apart. you’d been giving him nothing but attitude left and right for weeks now, he was finally sick of it. 

drool covered your face when he shoved himself into you, not even caring if he was being too rough. usually he was your gentle little choso, so sweet and always careful as though not to hurt you.. but this had to be a different person.

“y’think it’s okay to be mean to me, hm?” a rough hand slid up to your neck, forcing your eyes to meet his low ones. your head shook on its own, even your body knew you couldn’t get away with ignoring him.

choso’s head tilted as his hair dropped from the tiny man-bun he once wore, “c’mon use your words mama. i know you can, tell daddy you’re sorry?”

the hand wrapped around your throat made it almost impossible to speak, mixed with the pleasure from his thumb that was circling around your clit.

“p..please cho! ‘m sorry daddy, so sorry!” you threw your head back before placing a hand on his stomach, hoping to push him away. “‘m s..so sorry for being mean. please i can’t take it,”

a low chuckle fell from his lips as he slapped your hand away, pinning it behind your back. “noww you wanna be nice, where’d my mean girl go baby? you done being a fuckin’ brat?”

you nodded aggressively, feeling your own tears fall down your neck for the millionth time. “‘m done cho, i promise. never gonna be rude again!”

the black haired man grinned at your words, you were so quick to kiss ass if it meant getting him to forgive you, too bad he saw right through you.

“that’s good mama, im proud of you for learnin’. but im not done.. daddy’s gonna fuck this pretty pussy up a little more okay?”

©rissouu 2025 (happy fucking new years to all my babies, ya girl is backkk!! #weluvdomchoso)