#drabble lol

[gumii-bearr]

thinking about the first time megumi calls you a pet name.

you’d been dating for a while, a few months at that point, but he was always reluctant to use a pet name for you.

he preferred to call you by your name or the nickname everyone gives you.

but maybe it’s yuji that changes his mind.

“wait— fushiguro, you don’t call her baby? or sweetie? pookie maybe?? just y/n?”

“…that’s her name.”

but the thought lingers for weeks and he starts thinking about all the things that you call him.

“hey, gumi!”

“hi, baby,” before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“oh my god, gumi you have to see this!”

“thank you, sweet boy—“

since when did you start giving him pet names? perhaps it’s because it sounds so natural coming from you. you say cute pet names with such confidence behind them that he barely registers that you’re the only one who calls him those things.

there are a few failed attempts where the cute pet name he totally didn’t spend hours thinking about in his dorm last night, gets stuck in his throat and he just ends up hiding his red face in the collar of his jacket.

pet names don’t come naturally to megumi. before he met you, he thought pet names were sort of cringey and lame, that they sounded stupid.

but he feels so fuzzy when you say them, your smile bright and beaming, your sparkly eyes making him weak at the knees and the adorable pet name sending a jab right through his chest.

so there’s a second attempt.

and a third,

and a fourth,

before he gets it out without stuttering over his words and wishing the floor would swallow him whole because you didn’t hear him or it came out as a choked cough rather than an actual word—

“hi baby! i picked us up some pizza… i thought we could catch up on our watch list tonight.”

and megumi gulps back the lump in his throat, clammy hands clutching the material of his sweats—

“sounds good… babe.”

and you pause, a smile beaming across your face and you slowly turn to him.

“what was that—?”

“nothing.”

“no, what did you call me?”

“forget it.”

“wait, don’t be embarrassed, gumi!”

“too late, i’m going to ask shoko for her strongest shit so i can forget what just happened—“

and you giggle, tugging on his sleeve as he attempts to writhe away from you on the bed, pressing his face into the nearest pillow as you clamber over him with a cheeky smile.

“did you call me a pet name mr. fushiguro?”

“and i’ll regret it til i die.”

“oh, boo.”

safe to say he tends to stick with calling you your name or your offical nickname, but there are some rarer occasions where it slips out.

like when he’s unbelievably tired and sore from a day of sparring and missions, and he sneaks into your dorm and crawls into bed with you.

“long day, hm?”

“mm, i feel better now though.”

and you stroke his hair, “get some sleep then, ‘kay?”

“mhm… thank you, baby.”

and you just smile against his hair, he doesn’t realise what he’s said and it’s better that way, because it makes it a little more special.

[robinsgrl]

toxic baby daddy rafe does something to me. no soft rafe (only with his girls and only sometimes). he’s abrasive and harsh. even more when someone messes with you. yooo where my panties at

mdni 18+

It’s been three months. Three months without Rafe as your boyfriend. Three months of his only title in your life being your baby daddy. There were days where you would refuse to even call him that.

In high school, you loved the sound of his voice. You loved how the palm of his hand felt at the small of your back. You loved that being around him brought you a sense of peace.

Now, all you two do is argue. About everything and anything. Even if you do start half of them. Not now, though.

“What I do in my spare time is none of your business!” Luckily, Samara’s in the living room, her noise cancelling headphones on as she watches some YouTube show, giggling when something funny comes up. You’d usually try and pay attention to her screen time but you can’t when Rafe is in your home and bitching at you.

“So you’re whoring it up when Samara’s with me?” His words are harsh, spitting them at you.

Your eyes are wide and bewildered as you look up at him, chest rising and falling from the intense match you’re having. “Listen to yourself! Whoring it up? Are you from the fifties? Women can have sex without being called a whore nowadays!”

“So you are fucking someone? Who is he.” It’s not a question. It’s a goddamn demand and you hate the way it makes your knees feel weak.

You scoff loudly, rolling your eyes. “I’m not fucking anyone.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, ___, Topper fucking saw you.”

“Topper’s your dick rider.” You spit back out. It comes without warning. His big hand falls on your neck, tightening around you. Your back pushes up against the wall, eyes wide and up on his as he stares down at you angrily.

His face nears yours, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. A shudder runs through your body and you want to shut your legs to help ease the sensation between them but he forces his knee to you. “I’ll kill any man who gets near you, do you fucking hear me?” His words are low and menacing. From anyone else, it’d be scary. It’d drive you away and straight to goddamn police station. But from him? You can’t deny how good it feels.

Rafe’s always been protective of you. Since you two met, he’s hovered around you like a scary dog, growling at anyone who came your way. It grew when you got knocked up in your senior year of high school. And it grew tenfold when your baby girl was born. But it got to be suffocating. You broke it off with him and it took him two weeks to realize you were being serious.

You would never admit that you made a mistake. Not ever. Admitting that you miss him only lets him win. It gives him a point. And yes, you should be mature enough to realize this isn’t a game but he’s so damn cocky about it. The last thing you need from Rafe is a bigger ego.

“Who is he?”

“Eric. Eric Jones.” You admit easily, breath shaky and full of a need for him.

“Did he fuck you?”

You can’t answer. He repeats himself.

“Did he fuck you?”

You nod, hands falling to his arm as his hand tightens on your neck. His eyes won’t leave your face, taking you in completely. You can see it all. The anger. The jealousy. The twinge of hurt. He pulls his hand from your neck and pulls away from you. “Call your mother. Tell her to pick Samara up.”

“What?”

“Just fucking do it.” And you do. Like always, you do as told and Samara’s off with her grandma for the night.

“He can’t fuck you like I can.” You’re a drooling mess as he pounds into you from behind, the sound of skin on skin meeting fills the room. His hand is in your hair, forcing your head back. “Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

The moans and whimpers coming from you won’t stop. You try to form words as he keeps shattering your world but it won’t come out. “Fucking slut. Answer me.” His hands trail down to your neck, pushing you up slightly to sit as he keeps fucking into you. Your back arches up against him, toes curling as you feel the building ache in the bottom of your belly.

He groans loudly as he feels your walls clench down on him as you curse out loud, grinding down on him to reach that peak you want so badly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking tight. He couldn’t even fuck you right, could he? My poor girl, getting fucked by amateurs.” His fingers trail down to your freed tits, pinching at your pebbled nipples. “I don’t care what break you think we’re on, when you need a good fucking, come to me. No one can ever make you this cock drunk.”

You’re nodding frantically, “yes, yes, fuck, Rafe! Rafe! Oh, fuck!” You come undone when his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing at your sensitive and pulsing bundle of nerves.

At this very moment, you’re grateful for the house that Rafe bought you instead of cooping up in the one bedroom apartment you wanted when you moved out of his place. You had hated the power he had for giving you such a nice place but you’re grateful now as you moan and yell his name, body convulsing as his fingers keep working against you.

“Raaaafe, fuck!” He’s pushing deep and deeper as he pushes your front side back onto the bed. The overstimulation is making you writhe beneath him, pretty whimpers leaving your swollen and reddened lips. You can tell he’s reaching his own end when his thrusts become harder and longer, momentum slowing.

One pump. Two pumps. Three. Four. And he’s groaning in your ear, his front pressed up against your back as he comes inside of you from behind, your cunt fluttering around him at the full feeling of his load.

—

You awaken hours later to the bed dipping beside you. You had fallen asleep in Rafe’s arms after he had cleaned you up and whispered soothing and sweet nothings into your ear.

“Rafe?” You sit up tiredly, rubbing at your eyes to wipe the sleep away. His back is turned to you, the most relaxed you’d seen him in a while.

You scooch closer to him, pinched eyes trying to take a look at him. A small gasp leaves you as you see his bloodied and scarred hands. “Go back to sleep, baby.” His polo is covered in dribbles of blood, some drops of it drying up on his face.

You want to ask questions. You want to clean him up. But you can’t. You’re not a very good liar and the last time the police came around asking for your help, you almost broke, but Rafe was always thinking of you, his lawyer cleaning up the mess you made with the police. He had kissed and soothed you down from your teary apologies that night for being weak.

You nod, yawning softly, “okay… just… put the shirt in the wash.” It’s his turn to nod, a soft smile on his face as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

[rexhya]

you havent been much of a maid these days.

"[Name]" he called tenderly, you groaned into the comforter, cracking your eyes open to see the prince before you.

"Hmm?" you answered disoriented.

"I need you to do my hair, it's tangled."

"What ever do you m—" You cut yourself off, and looked around the room. This was not that maids quaters. You sat up from the too plush bed and swung your legs over it rapidly. you were still in your nights clothes, how had you ended up here?

anul looked confused, "what is it?" he asked innocently.

"i-my, I'm not supposed to be here." you said tip towing around the bed.

anul slithers his arms around you waist before you can move any further. "don't make me repeat myself."

you stop in your tracks, fear gripping your heart. "w-would you like a style?" you whisper.

anul beams, "yes please."

[angelkiyo]

you weren’t supposed to be in such a predicament, in such an unprofessional state.

“s-shit…ahh fuck..!” your whines were muffled and entire being shuddered.

“you take us so good, beautiful girl,” nanami muttered, caressing your cheek as you took him in your mouth. you felt your eyes brimming with tears and drool around the corners of your lips.

“i agree. you’re so…sweet,” higuruma let out in low voice, his breath labored as he ate you out.

but here you were, between your fellow legal associate, higuruma hiromi, and your workplace’s financial compliance consultant, nanami kento at a hotel near work.

your cute nylon skirt and black panties were to your knees and your grey blouse had its buttons completely undone, showing your classy black lace bra and pretty untouched chest. your lip gloss was smeared around nanami’s cock while your legs shook over higuruma's shoulders.

and they for one, absolutely adored the sight of you like this.

your nerves felt like your body was on goddamn fire; nanami was fucking your mouth with vigor like it was the last time while higuruma ate you out like he hadn’t eaten in days.

it started off mundane, you didn’t even know nanami and higuruma were silently in opposition against each other for your attention. you went to undergrad with nanami and to law school with higuruma, and both men garnered feelings for your punctuality, wit, and effortlessly ethereal looks.

until, you caught on and purposely teased by innocently bending over to the point where both men could see your panty choice of the day; today happened to be both of their favorite: black and lacy (basic but whatever).

the knot in your stomach only grew and your muffled whines only got louder as you could feel higuruma’s nose rubbing on your swollen clit and his tongue thrusted into you, sucking on your wet folds as your thighs squeezed together against his head.

so soft and wet.

hiromi went back and ran his fingers through his hair. his face was glistening with your arousal on his nose and lips; you felt your core flutter at the sight of him licking his lips. “you like that? hm, gorgeous?”

you felt nanami’s near-animalistic pace go even faster, pistoning into your mouth as you gagged in response.

nanami let out a breathless chuckle as your slutty little mouth remained on his cock. “you’re so tight, lovely. such a slut.”

“what would the firm say about this, darling? taking both of your co-workers in such a manner...” hiromi said, his words dripping with tease and charming nonchalance. he kept his vision locked on you in the eye while he destroyed your pussy with his tongue and nose.

"mmph..! f'ck!" you arched your back, and your vision was blinded by tears; you grinded your hips against higuruma and his nose against your clit, his tongue still eating at you ferociously. you felt the sensation in your stomach alleviate as you felt yourself release on higuruma's tongue, while nanami was cumming his load in your mouth simultaneously. the thick, sweet spurts of his cum went down your throat; you felt nanami caress your cheek, staring at you with adoration.

“such a good girl.”

higuruma let out a scoff and an out-of-character grin graced his face. "see how she got pleasured and released with only my tongue?”

nanami glared at him and raised an eyebrow, the tension between the two over you arousing you even further. "then let's switch and see who makes her cum the most."

may the best man win…in fucking you.

[screampied]

sukuna never says “i love you.”

to him, the words are meaningless. he’s been alive for thousands and thousands of years, of course he knows what it means. he’s not stupid, but for some reason—every time it comes out of your little human mouth, his heart aches. you say it so sweetly with the cheekiest grin on your face, not a single care in the world. he hated it. three words, eight letters of pure rubbish. at least, that’s what he thinks to himself. for sukuna, he expresses his love in a different way.

physical touch. flicking your forehead, teasing you, saying things he’d never say to you while you were awake. that was his version of love, he didn’t need those stupid, stupid words. or did he?

“love you, ‘kuna,” you’d pepper another kiss against his cheek. he tchs, the audacity for you to do something so embarrassing. he never says it back but you know deep down he’s got to feel at least something in that cold heart of his. he just has to, after all you did steal his heart in a way. and he stole yours. your eyes always had a glinting sparkle whenever those words would come out and he hated it. his response to you saying you loved him would always be the same.

“yeah yeah,” he gruffs. or a simple, “i know..”

but— there’d be a time where he’d regret not saying it back. a cold, cruel time where it’s just you and him, no one else. except, it would really just be him.

sukuna had a hard time at expression his feelings. it’s not like he hated you—despite his rough, barbarous persona.

he didn’t hate you but he did. it was complicated. it was a struggle trying to put it into words. all he knew was that he loathed how soft you made him, he noticed his behavior would change around you overtime. sukuna’s voice was get more gentle, his shoulders would relax, and he’d always finding himself flicking your forehead for some strange reason. it’s annoying,

you’re annoying.

the feeling was love though, it had to be.

had to be,

so the moment comes where he regrets not saying it back.

it’s something he’d continuously beat himself up over for. because now, here you are, laid all out near the ground in his arms. all four of his arms held you in a tight, cradling embrace and he’s got an expression you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. sukuna’s scarlet red irises were blown and fearfully dilated. his thin nostrils flared up and his slit brows contort in panic and confusion.

sukuna ryomen was scared.

“brat. get up.” he murmurs, three simple words was all he said to you. three simple words but you could barely even hear them.

all you heard was a brief inaudible mumble. you saw his lips moving but barely any sound came out. your body felt crushed, the pain was excruciating. your limbs, they felt like they were on fire. getting up was the last thing on your mind and you’ve probably sone the most careless thing imaginable.

you took a hit for sukuna, a deadly hit that was powerful enough to cost you your life. it’s funny though—all the talk of seeing your life flash before your eyes, and now, being snatched into the inevitable end, you were starting to really see it.

“get up,” he repeats, and this time, a single tear falls right onto your cheek. you meet sukuna’s gaze. the king of curses was a mere mess right before your eyes. he was like this for just you. teary eyed and sniffling, he can’t stand this pain.

you’re being held in his lap and not once does his eyes leave yours. sukuna takes a while to speak again and it’s as if he’s carefully thinking of what to say. time was precious right now, but he didn’t wanna think about anything. his focus was solely on you, his favorite little human.

“can you hear me? say something.”

“you .. you’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep frowning too much, ‘kuna.” you hum, a weak finger stroking against his cheek.

archons, for whatever reason, that little comment brought a smile to his face. you were so annoying to him and yet, he wouldn’t wanna be in anyone else’s presence. everything hurt though,

your body felt scorchingly hot, your pulse remains to ring through your ears and you were wheezing a bit. “hey, hey,” he watches as you try to cling onto his hand. sukuna didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what to say - all he did do though, was hold you. it was the least thing he could do. your hand was so small compared to his, his long fingernails gently tickling against your skin.

he didn’t have it in him to scold you for trying to protect him. as fragile of a being you knew you were, you did it anyway. you risked your life for him. sukuna let his guard down and you jumped right in the way without a second thought for yourself. that’s what love was, his heart bleeds at the recent flashback before a shaky breath leaves his lips. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. you can’t leave me like this, please.”

“i’m not l- leaving.” you reply, your voice weak and frail. sukuna knew that was a lie. the more you stared at him, how the look of worry on his face paints and marinates his features, he was really scared. you were his everything, his breath of fresh air, maybe even his one true love. “never gonna leave you, sukuna.”

and sukuna lays there with you on his lap. you seem still - too still. right before his eyes, he watches as your body’s temp run cold, final breaths making its introduction. everything was going so fast. he barely had time to react before he realized,

you were gone.

“no,” he whispers under his breath. the demon was at a loss of words. the feeling in his chest, it was indescribable. painful, and tight as he watches the light leave your eyes, something within him leaves also. a part of him. you were drifting away and there was nothing he could do about it. “no.” he repeats against, feeling a dull ache run cold through his body. sukuna didn’t know what to do. he’s seeing red, but perhaps that wasn’t just bloodshed and anger. maybe, maybe it was the one true feeling he was denying all along,

love.

his breaths become heavy once he realizes you’re actually gone. no movement, no cheeky replies, no random “i love you ‘kuna’s,” no nothing. the tear in his heart was enough to make him see the light with you. it hurt horribly, a lump in his throat builds up before he starts to weep. one tear comes then multiple shortly follow, landing past the thin fabric of his sown kimono and onto your lifeless body.

sukuna hated you. he hated how you made him so soft, so vulnerable, so weak. you came into sukuna’s life, stole his heart, and also broke it.

as his eye twitches, his smile had already faded once you left him.

for the first time in centuries, sukuna was defeated. his enemy wasn’t a sorcerer, a curse, or even himself who he believed was his true worse enemy. sukuna ryomen was defeated by four simple letters, love. not only did you leave him in tears, but you also left him with an engagement ring inside his right palm.

he was far too late, he was gonna propose to you. that way, he’d build up the courage to say those stupid, stupid words. opening up his right hand, he stares at the ring he wanted to give you way earlier before this incident even happened. sukuna waited too long, he’d actually plan this for quite some time but again, he was scared.

with a defeated sigh, he surrenders, glancing at you for one last time. no smile on your face anymore but he just used his imagination. there you laid, peaceful, almost as if you were asleep. taking a deep breath, sukuna gives you his last gentle forehead flick before finally telling you the words he’s been longing to say for years.

“i … i love you too, brat. never leavin’ you either.”

[ladycharlottexoxo]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ big bad butch sevika who wants to come back home to her pretty wife making dinner. she buries her face in your shoulder and sniffs you like a puppy but you love her.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ big bad butch sevika who has some shitty days and some absolutely shitty days, so she comes home to her pretty wife and puts her face in your lap. “bad day?” “mhm...”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ big bad butch sevika who you have to lull to sleep because she's seen so much shit, she gets nightmares. she thrashes sometimes, you have to pull her to your chest and stroke her back, “youre not on the streets, im here.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ big bad butch sevika who needs you to bathe her when she feels too tired to move, muscles aching and cuts dripping with blood. you patch her up and give her a bubble bath because big bad butch sevika deserves the best of the best.

[iiiiiiis-things]

satoru fucking you with his mask on claiming it's so 'his stamina can last longer' when in reality he doesn't want you to see the way his eyes roll back as he sinks into your sopping cunt <3

[marisolls]

TSUKISHIMA KEI who hated pda and openly showed his disdain for it before and during your relationship, and yet somehow he starts craving it slowly but surely.

craving doesn’t exactly describe it. it’s like he’s learned how to crave it in a way that’s unconsciously done. in a way he’s known since forever on how to interlock fingers and shove your hands both in his pocket. in a way that—he might have even lied to you about hating pda in the first place.

you can’t forget that scrunched up face he made seeing your peers doing… revolting things, as he phrased it, but when you followed his line of sight, you’re only met with the most timid looking couples gigging to each other, face so close as if they’ve just shared a sweet secret under their breath.

“they’re cute.” you look back at him, see how his eyes soften through his glasses. a half smile forming. then blinks away as he mutters,

“no they’re not.”

‘but they are!”

you scoff at him. that night, he kisses you tenderly on the forehead before he walks out your door, ending your study session in the softness that he thrives in under quiet, private spaces. “you can have my notes, don’t stay up too long.”

“okay, mister ‘i hate pda but i’d spoil you with kisses in private’ tsukishima”

“do you want me to revoke your privileges?”

it’s even funnier thinking about it now. he was never the same after the third date, when he kissed your hand before holding them as you amble your way through the aquarium. or the fourth date, when he doesn’t seem bothered resting his chin over your shoulder while being sandwhiched in a crowded highway bus. or the four months in, a greeting is never a greeting unless its in the form of a hug. he could only sigh and offer his arms wide open, trying (and failing) to hide his gorgeous smile once he wraps his arms around you, all snuggly and oblivious to the peering gazes around you.

by the time he realizes, it’s already too late.

“kei?”

he freezes mid-bite of his shortcake, eyeing your own slice held up for him to take. he complies without a word and—to your satisfaction, munches it with a hum of approval. you can’t help but chuckle and think he’s cute. unbothered.

“you know i’m starting to trust your adventurous nature-” you halved your cake, bring the other to his lips, and if it wasn’t for the little grin you’re sporting right now—

he eyes the cake,

then to you,

you can see the little gears shifting in his big brain from the way he blinks and raise a brow. lips slightly parted.

“wait-”

looks like he’s finally snapped out of it.

you mutter a small ‘sorry’ as you watch through the window a couple smacking each other’s lips across the street, casually directing your fork towards yourself. it was fun while it lasted, you finally have more reasons to tease him later too—

“i want a bite.”

you sputter out, “huh?” tsukishima kei looks bashful, but also staring down at you as if you’ve personally offended him. either way, you’re a bit dumbfounded to even move, let alone register what he had just said.

he scoffs. then grabbed your arm, guiding the slice you’re holding back to his mouth.

he munches it much more slowly, ear’s pink, looking anywhere but you.

“you good?” you ask, holding back a chuckle.

“mmhm.” he nods. wordless, inviting you to never speak anything about it either.

and to his luck, you never did. just basked in the affections you both give and receive. after all, who cares about pda?

he walks you home, hand in his. he demands a kiss before you go, and you give him without thought.

life doesn’t seem to give a damn either.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Yandere! Husband who thinks of you every single moment of the day, spoils you rotten, makes sure you feel loved 24/7 with letters, gifts and his presence. Being married to you is a privilege and he makes sure he shows you that.

Who does the little things like making sure you never open any doors by yourself. “What the fuck do you think that ring of yours means? Get your hand off that handle!” proceeds to climb over the car to open the car door for you

who randomly squeezes your hands with a vulnerability you almost never see from him. muttering things such as, “i can’t even remember life before I met you.” or “i love you so much. leave me one day if you must, but know that i’ll never be the same without you.”

yandere! husband who always makes sure you take care of yourself, personally appointing days where you have to go the salon to get your hair or nails done. yandere! husband who always has a fun new date idea to keep things fresh in the relationship. yandere! husband who studies your body for hours on end so you’ll never have to look for satisfaction elsewhere.

so that you’ll never question why he’s changed so much. because he was never the man you married in the first place.

[evesbookshop]

❤︎︎ 𝐕𝐢 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩 ❤︎︎

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

𝐅𝐭: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤/𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤, 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐭

𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Vi who watches one TikTok of a girl complaining that she’ll never get to have her dick sucked and it absolutely changes her life. If we’re being completely honest Vi’s always had a little bit of a thing with your mouth, but she can’t help it. And this has just made it so much worse

So much worse infact that when she gets horny and you’re away, she watches strap sucking videos specifically so she can imagine what you’d look like on your knees taking her. And how heavenly your already magnificent mouth could feel.

And she tries to keep it together, she does. But she’s been extra feral and it’s not hard to pick up on the fact that something’s causing it. Her already crumpling composure all comes toppling down when she goes to show you a fight video she had saved on twitter and it instead opens up to a girl throat fucking her girlfriend with a strap.

It’s dead silent as you piece together what’s really been making her crazy. And she is staring at her phone, she turned it off and chucked it , in abject horror. Not for long though of course.

“Did you wanna try that” She’s gonna cream her pants.

And that’s how you end up here, on your knees, Vi’s black strap within an inch of your face and Vi herself looking just as delicious as usual. Maybe more so, if you’re being honest.

Eyes trailing her body as they make their way up. From the hot pink happy trail that only stops a few centimeters from her belly button to her toned beyond belief torso. I mean abs like hers should be illegal really, and her breasts , god they looked great from this angle.

But more importantly was her eyes, dark with a hunger you’d only seen a few times on her. Taking in every piece of you, and if this was anyone else you’d feel vulnerable, but you don’t, not with her.

“Just gonna stare or you gonna put that pretty mouth to work, babe”

A shiver went down your spine as you leaned forward, grasping the toy at the base and kissing up the side length before coming to the tip. Tapping it on your tongue and giving it a few light licks.

“Don’t tease.” Vi’s voice was tight and barely restrained. She had one hand buried softly in your hair but her grip tightened as she spoke, giving a warning tug.

“Can’t help it,” you gave her a soft smirk “it’s just so fun” at that a sharper tug that had the ghost of a whine leave your mouth. Finally you stopped your teasing, anticipation having brewed enough.

Taking her deeper and deeper as a steady pace before it bottomed out, and you’d be lying if the feeling of Vi’s bush against your nose and the sweet sent of her musk that filled your senses didn’t have you clenching around nothing. Drawing back and repeating until you had a good temp, rubbing and gripping at her trembling thighs to steady yourself.

And Vi, she was in heaven. You’d think this wouldn’t feel that good, that it wouldn’t live up to all the fantasies she’d created in her mind. But if anything, this was better. She had the prettiest girl in the world in front of her , sucking her dick like a porn star, hell she could feel the moans you were trying to muffle vibrating through the silicone and it was doing something fierce to her. But it wasn’t enough.

“Oh fuck, pretty girl you’re doin so good . So fucken good promise , but I need more” Her voice was wrecked , bordering on the line of pathetic. A raspy whiney mess and damn if it wasn’t working for you.

“What’s wrong baby , whaddya need?” You pull back and a line of spit connects your lips to the tip of her cock, almost as thin as her restrain is wearing at the moment. Hand coming to jerk it off. Because despise it being fake, the grinder that lay underneath bumping relentlessly against Vi’s sensitive clit was very real.

“Need to fuck your face” oh this was filthy

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, just fuck. C’mon princess. Don’t tease” Another raspy whine left her lips as her hips bucked forward, and you thighs pressed together to follow.

“Yeah Vi, okay. Fuck my face” it was breathy but just as needy in response and it had her removing her hand from your hair so that it could help the other gather all the fly away and pull it back, becoming a handle of sorts. Mumbling soft but ever so genuine ‘thank you’s.

“Just tap me twice if it’s too much , alright pretty?”

“Alright.”

“Good girl, now open up for me.” She instructed and you obeyed, jaw dropping and tongue out far enough to cover your teeth. The first few were gentle, testing. But after she had it, all bets were off. Hips snapping relentless , silicone bumping against the back of your throat as you tried to suck in tandem. Spit dropping down the sides of your mouth and down your chest.

“Oh that’s so good, doin so good for me , babe. So fucken good”

“God you’re perfect, mouth is perfect, taking me so well”

And when you gagged the first time, she knew she wasn’t lasting long.

“Oh fuck, that’s right pretty girl. Just fucken choke on my cock.” She was practically bent over cradling your head as she humped the toy into your mouth. Coil in her stomach tightening with every thrust, threatening to snap with every moan you let out in response .

It came as no surprise to the both of you when she let out whine turned growl as she chased and then road out her high. Grinding against the bumper and simultaneously choking you on her cock. A few more jerky and not nearly as strong thrusts before she was pulling out. Hazy and in complete awe of you. Even as you were covered in spit and blinking away tears.

“Too rough?”

“Never”

“Good.” Before she was helping you stand to carrying you to the bedroom.

“Did so good , babe. I’m gonna fuck you till you see stars tonight.”

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ❤︎︎

𝐌𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝❤︎︎

[meanderingwistera]

Suguru is the hottest dad in the kindergarten pick up line. He has a charming personality and is always on time. His car is always first in line, blasting Black Sabbath and Metallica as he waits, leaning back against the car. His arms crossed and his sleeves riding up to show just a hint of ink on his upper arms.

It really is no surprise that all the Mothers (both single and not) flock to him like moths to a flame. They try not to be too obvious about it and make up little excuses to talk to him, like getting that cookie recipe he made for the school bake sale a few months ago and so on.

You are not completely oblivious to his magnetic pull but your position as the girl’s teacher puts you in a bind. You really don’t want to date one of the Dads of your kids. As much as you would love to give into his advances you want to keep it professional.

Sadly you are failing miserably at it.

His funny little quips and deep chuckles turn you into a blushing mess. He seems to enjoy that, pushing you as far as he can get. Suguru always has an innocent smile on his face as he shamelessly flirts with you as you hand over the twins. You feel like you may have a heart attack if this continues.

After a particularly hard week your car breaks down. You don’t exactly know what is wrong with it considering you only know how to change a tire and absolutely nothing else. Luckily you aren’t too far from a car shop.

You call the car shop and they send someone out to tow you in. The man sent out, who you can see from his name badge is Sukuna, is gruff and barely talks to you as he instructs you to put into neutral so he can hook up your car to the back of his truck.

You sigh in relief once you are at the car shop. Sukuna doesn’t say anything after his job is done, he just walks away. He is a little rude but at least you aren’t on the side of the road somewhere so you don’t mention it.

“Well-” Suguru’s teasing voice comes from behind you, “I never thought I would see you here.”

His grin is wide and shows off a pair of silver snake bites you have never seen before. He looks up and down horribly slow. You try to formulate a basic sentence but come up short.

“I- umm- I- broke down.” You offer to him and he chuckles.

“I see that. Let me take a look at it.”

You watch as he checks your car over. He knows what he is doing and you just hope that he can fix it so you don’t have to get a new car. Getting a new car on teacher’s salary would suck.

“It’s the battery-” Suguru wipes his hands off with a rag as he tells you his diagnosis, “the battery has also damaged the alternator so we will have to replace both to make sure that the alternator doesn’t damage a new battery.”

You nod with a dejected expression, at least you don’t have to get a new car.

“Also, I will need to keep it here for a few days while we wait for a new alternator.” He says and you try not to panic.

How will you get to work? You need your car!

“I know that it will be difficult to find a ride so do you want me to take you? We do go to the same place every day.” His offer is genuine and a little nervous if you look closely.

Maybe accepting his help won’t be so bad.

“Sure.”

[satoblue]

MDNI, f!reader, ghost husband satoru (he is dead after shinjuku but is stuck between worlds and haunts you), a little angsty at first then smutty, masturbation (satoru ofc sigh he is a freak even when deceased), cumming on your face. | not proofread, will likely play around with this idea more in the future, dividers made by me

ghost husband satoru . . . if there is one thing that hasn’t changed about him even though he is without a corporeal form — it is that he is capable of turning any situation sexual. though, his freakiness proves rather helpful this time as it confirms that maybe you can sense him at times. it first happens when you’re asleep one night, and like usual, your husband is watching over you.

all he feels - and all you feel these past couple of days - is nothing but grief and heartbreak. both of you were mourning (though he was the only one who was technically dead) the loss of each other and how you’d no longer be able to hold one another. to kiss, to caress, to feel your heartbeats against your chests. he often finds himself lost in thought, gazing at something distant and out of his reach, sights strictly stuck on your form. you toss and turn — and satoru, he would always complain about your icy feet and how he’d wake up in the middle of the night to your foot on his cheek. but now, he wishes more than anything in the world to feel the chill of your skin than that of death.

with each passing night, you only grow more restless as satoru’s scent seems to dissipate from the sheets and from the air of your home. you feel even colder than normal, the bed no longer warm and inviting. there was no comforting presence alongside you, no loud snores and breaths right beside your ear as a certain someone invades your space. for once and for forever, you have the bed all to yourself — and you hate it.

eventually, at some point, you end up on your back, lightly snoring as you finally manage to shut your eyes. satoru lets out a breath of relief. at least you’d have a couple hours of sleep to properly function the next day. as he continues to stare, however, his eyes don’t fail to roam over you — attention shifting from your face to your heaving chest. he can tell you weren’t wearing a bra like usual — your nipples poking through the thin fabric of your shirt.

seconds pass as he looks, and the harder he does . . . the harder he gets down below. satoru’s head whips down in shock, a bit flustered at the way his cock twitches to (ironically) life. how could he still do that? this paranormal stuff is weird — his paranormal penis is weird. out of all the times to get an erection . . . your husband shoots his gaze towards you, where you lay all sprawled out, covers kicked off from your wrestle with an imaginary creature in your dreams (at least, that is what he picked up on from your sleepy mumbles).

could he even…… cum? — like this, he means. he didn’t even know he could get a boner in this state so it wouldn’t exactly hurt to try. satoru crawls atop the bed slowly — and it doesn’t shift or dip as if he’s lighter than a feather, like he doesn’t even exist. yet, he still does so quietly and carefully, as if scared to wake you even though he knows it isn’t possible. he makes his way on top of you, straddling you. and as he lingers above, looking down at the sight of your slightly parted lips in your slumber, spying a bit of drool at the corner — he can’t help but throb in his pants with interest. you look so innocent and peaceful, and yet, your filthy (dead) husband can’t help but be a freak at a moment like this by getting off to it.

after a bit of (no) contemplating, he tugs down the front of his pants, enough to free his cock just a bit. he hisses slightly as his tip meets the abnormally icy air and with a sigh, he starts stroking himself — right above your face. unbelievably, heat creeps up onto his face and spreads throughout his entire body. this was wrong, but . . . you wouldn’t mind right? it’s not as though you knew your husband whom you’ve been crying over for the past few weeks is jerking off on you while you sleep . . . as a ghost.

the hand stroking him works faster, and if he could, he’d probably be sweating by now. letting out a string of groans and whines, his tip leaks and dribbles a bit onto your shirt, but it doesn’t bleed through and soak it. with that, he feels a little bolder, more confident and assured in his depravity and runs his mushroom tip over your lips only to feel a mixture of irritation and disappointment as it does nothing for him. all it serves is sending a weird sensation down his spine at the contact.

regardless of that, satoru imagines himself cumming straight into your open mouth, the familiar coil in his stomach building and he starts strokes himself even quicker, breathless gasps permeating the air while his hips rut desperately into his own hand. and before he can stop himself — his cock explodes, sending rope after rope of his semen on your face.

with a flinch, your eyes shoot wide open. satoru yelps, jolting back in surprise, almost stumbling back but catching himself with a hand on the bedding.

you blink up at the ceiling, startled like a lamb, before your hand reaches up slowly. and if his heart could beat, it’d be thundering in his chest right about now. he swallows, watching closely as you feel around your face for whatever just hit you …….. only to find nothing.

huh?

the evidence of his transparent orgasm doesn’t budge the slightest bit as your fingers trace around the perimeter of your face. that is, until you sit up and he shuffles back a bit, making room for you even though he technically doesn’t have to (it’s more out of instinct). and right then, his seed starts dripping down, unable to defy gravity. but you can no longer sense it now, as if the odd sensation suddenly vanished.

but, you felt it. you felt the phantom feeling of him blowing his load all over your face. out of all the things he’s done so far to get you to acknowledge that he is here, that he’s touching you — that’s the first bit of contact you recognize?

[shadow4-1]

"Can you just pretend to love me tonight? Please?"

Simon's never gotten a request like this before.

He's never had any qualms about selling his body. Whether it was for his cock, units of his blood plasma, or his war honed body. He's always done what he's had to - anything to stay off the streets and keep a full belly.

The girls who've paid him always wanted a brute, someone to mount them and take them for all they were worth. That was what he was used to, not some doe-eyed sweet thing begging him to be gentle.

"I want to feel loved." You admit, leaning back on the motel bed, thighs crossed in nervousness. "I um...I know I'm not very pretty-"

Simon leans forward on his knees and kisses you gently. Well, he tries to. The tip of your teeth graze painfully together as he mouths you. You squeak beneath him, hands going up to his shoulders to try and push him off on rabbit instinct. He pulls his mouth off of you just enough to mutter an apology.

"Sorry." He swallows.

You look up at him with impeccably beautiful eyes brimming with tears. You seem to finally understand there's nothing gentle about him even when he tries to be. Simon wants you to call him off, send him out of the cheap hotel. He knows he can't be as sweet at you want - as you deserve. He's just physically not built for that. At least, he's sure of it nowadays. He has a brief memory of holding his newborn nephew but it slips away just as quickly as it came.

"Can we just...go slow?" You ask again. Simon can hear the waver in your voice. You're unsure if you want to continue, but you seem to trust him for some reason. "Really, really slow?"

"Yeah."

He can do slow. He can do glacial. If there's one thing he can do, it's be measured, methodical. He wasn't a Lieutenant for nothing.

For the first time in years, he takes his time. He's used to the fast paced, hungry fucks that pay his rent in thirty minutes. This is...new, not wholly uninvited. He kisses down your collarbone, down the swell of your breasts. He nips at the lacy fabric (you dressed up for him when he was expecting just to rip it all off) as he makes his way down further. He laps at the skin beneath your belly button, making your belly flutter. Ticklish. He likes that.

Simon noses his way between your thighs, easily spreads your legs with his thick forearms. As he kisses down your cloth covered mound he admits he likes how you smell. Usually the taste of women turns him off. He prefers men, but desperate women pay more. You're desperate alright, although its a different type of desperation. Something about the nervous wetness staining your new panties has his cock jumping in his trousers. He presses his nose to the fabric, inhales deeply, and relishes in your shy squeak. Simon starts to understand your desire.

You want to be explored, mapped, and consumed slowly. You want to give up control but feel as if you can stop at any moment. You want to be seen, tasted, then completely devoured.

Instead of slipping your panties to the side, he licks his way down your thighs. You squeal and try to squirm away from the sudden sensation but he doesn't stop. He kisses down your calves and across the top of your feet. His hands are so large that they wrap around your soles completely. Simon pushes them up until they're up by your ears. He knows the position is uncomfortable for you, but he likes the view of your soft, cloth covered mound.

He nips at the back of your ankles and calves, licks down the expanse of your thighs, ans nuzzles into the gusset of your panties. Simon relishes in the squeaks and gasps ans twitches of your expectant body. It's been so long since he's teased someone, much less a sweet lil' thing like you.

Your scent is heady, comforting, nothing like he's experienced before. He finds he really likes just inhaling you in. You whimper, thighs shaking already. He hasn't even licked you yet. Simon finally admits to himself that you're stroking his ego.

He plants a firm, sweet kiss to your cloth covered cunt. The fabric is practically soaked through. He can smell your taste on the tips of his lips. His curiosity wins. He takes a firm, long lick from bottom to top. Simon tastes you, but also the flowery tang of your favorite fabric softener. You taste good. He wants more.

Simon finally releases his hold on your thighs. On instinct, or perhaps strain, they fall apart. You try to sit up but he tugs your body further towards the edge of the bed. He can feel the tension in his old knees from kneeling, but he ignores it. You've opened up your body to him. He wants to take full advantage of it.

Simon goes back to lapping at your clothed cunt. He doesn't stop until his tongue is raw from brushing repeatedly over the stitches. Drool drips down his chin.

"Off."

You huff in confusion, trying to sit up. Instead. With too easy of a tug, off come your panties. There you are. Simon knows he should slow his movements but he doesn't care. You haven't stopped him yet, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get those sweet lips in his mouth. He spreads you apart with his middle and forefinger. You're a sight to behold. Perhaps not pornstar perfect anatomy, but you're delicious looking nonetheless. He eyes your glistening, dripping slit. As bad as he wants to force his tomgue deep inside you, instead he presses a firm kiss to the hood of your clit. You jolt, trying to back away or pull him closer, he can't tell.

Simon follows your movement. He mouths hungrily at your clit, flattens his tongue and practically drools against it. He laps at you with a muted fervor. He doesn't want to hurt you. He can tell you're sensitive. It must've been awhile since the last time you'd had a man willingly do this for you. A damn shame.

Your shaky little moans are like music to Simon's ears. He follows them like a map. He circles your clit, traces the entrance of your hood, even dips lower to tease the sides of your inner lips. You seem to like that alot based on the sounds you make. He sucks on your inner wings and you squeal, thighs wrapping hard around the sides of his head. He does it again and and again until you're hiccuping in delight. Your slick drips down his chin and throat. You're such a good girl for him.

Simon knows he's going to make you cum, it's just a matter of time and technique. He has both on his side. He uses his other hand to pet at your entrance. He tries to commit your anatomy to memory, and so he takes his time dipping the pads of his fingers against your fluttering slit. Despite it obviously having been awhile, your cunt holds no resistance. In fact, it practically swallows up the tip of his middle finger. Fuck yeah, that's what he likes to see.

With measured ease, Simon slips his whole finger inwards and upwards inside of you. You keen and gasp and he can feel your insides twitching. You're tight. So tight he can feel his finger already starting to cramp up from the resistance.

If he's going to fuck you right he's still got some work to do.

[beloveds-embrace]

(thinking of dragon john price wanting your chubby self as an addition to his hoard 😩)

The first time John Price walks into your café, it’s because he needs something strong to shake the weariness from his old bones. The bell above the door chimes, and the warmth of roasted beans and sugar wraps around him like a comfort he didn’t know he needed.

And then he sees you.

You’re behind the counter, moving with easy confidence, soft hands making quick work of a steaming pitcher of milk. There’s a warmth in your smile when you greet him, eyes bright, cheeks plush and inviting. Something in his chest tightens- something ancient, something hungry.

He doesn’t speak at first, just rumbles out his order in that low, gravelly timbre of his, but he watches you. The way your hands move, steady and capable. The way your curves shift as you reach for a cup, the fabric of your uniform stretching over the swell of your stomach, your hips. You’re soft. Lush. And suddenly, John forgets what it was he came in for beyond you.

The coffee you place in front of him is perfect. He barely tastes it.

After that, he starts coming in more often.

At first, it’s under the excuse of needing a pick-me-up before work, but then it becomes something else entirely. A routine. A habit. A hoarding. He brings trinkets sometimes- small things, barely noticeable at first. A shiny coin from some distant country, left on the counter as a tip. A sleek, carved wooden bracelet he insists on you wearing. A packet of specialty tea, even though this is a coffee shop, because he thought you might like it. And you do, the smile you give him always so pretty, so soft, like most humans are, except none of them is you.

It’s instinct, this need to gift, to gather, to keep.

And when other men linger too long at the counter, when they smile at you just a little too wide, John bristles. His shoulders square, big wings soreading ever so slightly, the scales along his tail sharpening. He makes himself big, more than he already is, and lets his presence fill the space until they think better of their flirting and take their coffee to go.

He doesn’t like them looking at what’s his.

Not yet, not officially- but he’s working on that.

Because you don’t know it yet, his sweet barista, but John has already made up his mind. You belong with him, with them. In his hoard, where he can keep you warm and safe, where he and his men can adore you properly.

You just haven’t figured it out yet.

(Reblogs for more)

[mensahbots]

couldn't help but gif some shots from this episode 6 preview clip!

[suiana]

beo idk where i saw or read this but can you imagine a yandere! husband who would actually go insane if you left/escaped him?

like, actually insane. I'm not talking "ohhh my spouse left me :((( im gonna find them grrr" type of insane.

im talking like mental breakdowns, crying, screaming, actually getting ill, throwing fits and acting like a sick and deranged man because you're not with him anymore.

he's a rich guy, comes from an old money family. so obviously his parents and family all see the state that he's reduced to after his beloved darling left his grasp. and they absolutely hate the way that their son is so miserable right now. that's their son! and how could they let their son suffer? just how can they help?

so they find you on his behalf and bring you back to him.

like, they're sorry you're back here against your will but their son's condition is more important! don't you see? he loves you and you're just... just neglecting him! a good spouse wouldn't do that. you have to be with him. no questions asked.

upon spotting you, their son (who was literally clawing at his arms, nails all bloody) immediately switches moods and perks up. he's no longer the insane man he was just 5 seconds ago. now he's your loving and sweet husband.

his family all sees that, especially his parents, and they make a vow to make sure you never leave him again. i mean, they like you too! you're perfect for their son! why would you ever want to leave? you don't need to leave.

just stay here with them. stay with your husband. after all, he clearly needs you. and what type of spouse would you be if you left him again?