#even if it Was just a practice drabble piece to get a feel for writing the characters hfkdhfj

[orcelito]

Thinking about rereading Sentido before I reread ITNL

I peeked in the last chapter and I was like "damn ok this is actually kinda good"

[sahkuna]

wanted to write a drabble about this canon factoid about gojo and his inoue waka lockscreen. ugh, he's such a loser i miss him.

☆ — gn! reader (no pronouns mentioned), fluff, set in 2007, pining gojo, percieved to be in the same universe as not so invisible string (but can be read as a standalone) so also tagging eventual friends to lovers…

“You’ll never get a girlfriend if you keep that as your phone’s wallpaper,” Shoko says as she scrunches her nose in disdain at the promiscuous photo of Inoue Waka clad in a tiny baby blue two-piece bathing suit. 

Stunned by her sudden accusatory (and unprovoked) comment, Gojo blinks at his home screen once, then twice before he slides his gaze sideways to the brunette beside him. Shoko’s still looking at him as if he had pissed his pants or something, her judging gaze flitting back between him and his flip phone.

What’s wrong with his wallpaper? 

Gojo didn’t think much of it when he set it on his phone last week. Even Geto hadn’t shown much of a reaction when he got a glimpse of the new home screen. Inoue’s a beautiful woman and this photo of her on the beach doused with seawater complimented her features really well. 

Straightening his posture in his chair, Gojo juts out his chin a little, ready to shut down Shoko’s slander on his choice of wallpaper. “Well, I think it’s quite nice—”

“It’s too horny.”

He cringes a bit at that.

Shoko waves a dismissive hand in the air, unbothered about how Gojo’s eyebrows are tightly pinched together with artificial offence and betrayal. She quickly follows her statement with, “Your lock screen is the first thing people see when you show them your phone, right?”

A wounded pout is the only response Shoko gets, so she continues. “So make it something meaningful. Just… just anything but that,” she scoffs, harshly pointing a pale pink nail at the offending picture.

Something meaningful, huh?

Gojo presses his cheek into his palm and thinks of a million and one things he could set his screen to. Then, as if a light bulb went off in his head— shining light onto every crevice in his mind— he’s presented with the one.

Easy.

You’re supposed to be studying.

Supposed to.

But for the past fifteen minutes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. No matter which direction you swivel your head, whether toward the bookcases or the nearly vacant tables behind you, you find no one here besides you and the librarian. 

You conclude that you’re just tired, especially considering how extensive your studying has been within the last hour.

You turn your focus back to your notes and reread the line you last left off on, writing notes along the way. 

The abrupt sound of what you assume to be a camera shuttering quickly pulls you out of concentration. You seize your writing and glance around the library, silently looking for the suspect behind the noise. 

Who the hell would be taking pictures of you in the middle of a library?

You turn your head to the left and lo and behold, a few chairs across from your seat and the vast mass of your notes and books scattered across the wooden table sits Gojo Satoru.

It was as if he materialized out of nowhere.

Upon being caught, a gleeful grin spreads across his lips and his cheeks pop with a healthy, bright hue. Since there was no need to hide in plain sight any longer, Gojo slid out of his chair and into the one seated right across from you.

Your senior gives you a two-fingered salute. “Hey.” 

That’s all he offers you before he raises his flip phone camera to eye-level view and snaps another picture of you.

“Don’t you ‘hey’ me,” you say, trying to swat his hand and phone away from your face. You vaguely wonder if he was ever taught the golden rule of how everyone was entitled to having a “personal bubble” around them back in preschool. 

But judging how his flip phone is obnoxiously close to your face, practically trying to get his lens to merge with your skin, clearly not.

You softly knock his hand away again with the back of yours. Fortunately enough for you, he temporarily relents. “Why’re you taking pictures of me?” you ask.

“Why not?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you feel an oncoming scowl almost crawl onto your lips when you watch Gojo lamely jump his shoulders to his ears. 

However, not wanting to give your teacher a reason to storm into the campus library right now and wring you two by the neck, you choose peace and decide to pick at his brain as to what brought him here to you. “Why, though?”

“Why not?” he repeats.

Fuck that, this was getting you nowhere.

“Well, I have some heavy studying to do.” You throw a wary glance at Gojo, who seems to have only brought him, himself, and he to your not-so-private study corner. “So I’d appreciate it if you would… lay off on that…” You gesture blindly at the phone he was scrolling through, pressing multiple buttons to go through his gallery and admire the pictures he’s taken.

“Oh, me?” Gojo presses a hand on his chest in a faux woe-is-me act hoping to garner your sympathy. His sunglasses slightly tip off the edge of his nose and there’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “You don’t even have to worry about me. Pretend as though I’m not even here.”

“Easier said than done,” you mumble more so to yourself than him.

Gojo leans back in his chair, his arm propped against the upper ledge of his seat and watches you, content that you haven’t shooed him away from your presence altogether. 

He keeps this up for a few minutes, and you think this is fine. If he can keep quiet like this for the next 15 minutes while you finish up the last remnants of questions you have left, you’d go home with an empty to-do list and a clear conscience.

“You know…” Gojo suddenly pipes up, and you hiss an irate Oh my God at his antics. “If you look at the camera just once, I’ll be out of your hair. I promise.”

Sighing heavily, you toss your pencil defeatedly between your notebook's pages. Anything to get him out of here, honestly. “Fine, make it quick.”

Gojo laughs, carefree as always. “Okay, okay, just…” He raises his phone into view once more. “Just smile this time, yeah?” 

Behind his phone you see his free hand drift toward his lips. His index finger gently pulls at the corner of his mouth, tugging it into a warm smile. You’re positive that this is a silent request for you to produce one of your own, so you give.

However, your smile comes out looking a bit strained. You feel it, Gojo sees it.

“Wanna make it less forced?” he teases.

“Shut up!”

Relaxing a bit, you try once more and muster up the best star smile you can produce and for a split second, something in Gojo’s chest does a sick sort of squeeze, tight and hard.

If there were any way to describe it, Gojo would say it was the kind of smile you’d request and pay for a print version if it were for school photos.

He watches you for a beat or two through the lens of his phone, his ice-blue eyes are both soft and probing.

Since when did you smile like that? Could you do that more around him? How can he get you to—

“Hurry, please,” you say through clenched teeth, keeping your posture.

Ah, right.

Thumb hovering over the OK button, Gojo quickly snaps your photo.

“Happy now?” 

It’s a rhetorical question, but Gojo nods all the same, grateful for your cooperation, regardless of how brief it was. 

“Where’s this even going?” you question, watching how your upperclassman fiddles around a bit longer on his phone. God knows what he’s doing with your pictures now.

Gojo glances at you searchingly, before he offers you a quick and easy smile. His eyes dart back down at his phone and reads the prompt on his screen.

Ready to set as new wallpaper?

“Somewhere special, you could say.”

[snowballseal]

hihi! i was curious if you would be willing to do a drabble inspired by the sleepy affection with sylus piece, but with out good dr zayne? i feel like sleepy cuddles with him would be so comforting... regardless, thank you sm for sharing your writing!! every piece you've posted has always brought a smile to my face (kicking my feet all happily too) even for characters i'm not as interested in :)

Sleepy Affection ~ Zayne

Summary: It's winter, and there's nothing like cuddling with your sleepy doctor after you've both had a long day (or a long few days in Zayne's case).

Word Count: 1014

Note: I'm honestly so whipped for this man. Like, I'm so soft for him. And he's so soft for reader. This man would turn into a cuddly cat when he's tired, kinda like the misty invasion card (*eyes emoji*)

Hope you enjoy! Thank you for the request! And thank you for your really kind words. I'm glad my writing can make people happy.

---

Winters in Linkon are your favorite.

There’s something about the snow, the crisp chill in the air, the smell of peppermint drifting from the coffee shops. Every store is draped in twinkle lights and each street rings with the song of bells as people come and go. The kids seem somehow more feral and delightful, running through the parks in their brightly colored scarves, building snowmen wherever they can. Being a hunter, you’re drawn into more than a few snowball fights by groups of eager children who want to see your “fighting skills”.

But your favorite part about winters are the sleepy evenings. It’s the feeling of getting home after a long day, a deep chill in your bones alongside the exhaustion, ready to curl up in your blankets with a cup of hot cocoa and a movie. There’s nothing else like it.

And what makes it even better?

When your boyfriend joins you after his even longer shift.

Your apartment is quiet except for the playful soundtrack of ‘Elf’ humming in the background. You snuggle deeper into the couch, eyes glued to the window beside you, watching the thick snowflakes dance with the wind. They look like little ballerinas to your tired eyes, pirouetting round and round and round. Hypnotizingly graceful.

The front door opens with a muted click.

Lazily, you tear your gaze away from the window. You do your best to glance over the back of the couch, your cheek pressing into the cushion, too comfortable to move, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

Your heart flutters at the sight in front of you though. Zayne stands in the foyer, pulling off his many layers of warm clothes with a startling lack of grace. Snow clings to his dark hair and coat, falling to the ground with each of his sluggish movements. The doctor looks tired. His eyes meet yours, dark and warm, hooded just like your own.

You lift the edge of your blankets. A silent invitation.

Zayne trudges across the living room, his steps uncharacteristically heavy. He takes off his glasses and leaves them on the table behind the couch. You smother a giggle when he practically collapses against you. It’s like having a large cat curl around you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck with a long, content sigh.

Resting your cheek against his hair, you tuck your blankets around his shoulders, murmuring a soft, “Hey, baby.”

The doctor lets out a low rumble in response, drawing you impossibly closer. You inhale sharply when he slips his hands under your sweater, his freezing cold fingers desperately seeking out the warmth of your skin. You shiver as they trace delicately along your waist, slotting in the tight space between you and the couch.

“Your fingers are freezing,” you whine, jarred from your sleepy state.

Of course you don’t actually mind, though. Not with Zayne. Not when he nuzzles so cutely into your neck, murmuring the most unapologetic apology you’ve ever heard, his voice low and raspy with exhaustion. A fuzzy kind of fondness washes over you.

“Long day?”

Zayne sighs, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of your throat, “I’ve slept only three hours in the past two days.”

Poor thing.

You feel a stab of pity for him. That might be the only drawback of winter, you suppose. Akso Hospital is always infinitely busier with this kind of weather. The snow always brings more accidents and Zayne always volunteers to work extra shifts when the need is dire, no matter the cost to his health. It’s something you love, but also something that worries you.

Brows furrowing, you card your fingers through his hair tenderly in hopes of helping him relax. It’s still a little damp from the snow. Zayne shivers when your nails trace over his scalp. Another shaky sigh escapes him when your hand dips under his collar to massage his nape. He practically melts under your touch, his weight pressing you deeper into the couch.

You’re not sure where the movie is now. The cup of hot cocoa on the side table is likely cold. But it’s hard to care. All you can focus on is Zayne. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The faint smell of jasmine hidden under the lingering scent of the hospital. The comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

Eyes fluttering shut, you nuzzle your face into his hair, hands going still around his shoulders. The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours, drifting in and out of sleep as the snow dances outside. It all feels so distant, your blankets hiding you from the cold, from the rest of the world. 

It’s just the two of you.

The two of you, in your shared apartment, always coming home to one another. Just like this.

Your heart warms at the thought. Nudging his forehead gently, you draw Zayne back just enough to see his face. He looks back at you with those hooded eyes, hazel depths brimming with a reverent affection. Biting back a smile, you lean down to kiss him. It’s a tender thing, a mere brush of your lips against his, featherlight and full of devotion. It leaves the both of  you aching yet content as you draw away.

“I love you,” you whisper, nose brushing his sweetly.

“I love you as well, my dear,” he hums, a flicker of a tired smile gracing his lips.

You can’t resist pressing another kiss to them, your own smile breaking through, “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner.”

Without an ounce of resistance, Zayne settles back against you, his head resting on your chest. The soft thrum of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep, the exhaustion finally catching up and pulling him under. You listen as his breathing evens out, deep and slow.

And while you mean to stay up, you can’t resist the warmth, the comfort of having him there with you.

Vaguely, you hear the credit song playing as you drift off into sleep.

---

I have such a thing for calling stoic men 'baby', I feel like it's so soft and cute and he'd honestly probably melt for it. Idk, maybe just me, please don't come for me in the comments.

[moonstruckme]

heya!! i was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where r stopped smoking..? i’m 6 months clean from smoking nicotine and i haven’t told anyone (you’re the first!! lmao) just incase i break from a stressful day and so i don’t disappoint!! could you maybe write that into the drabble or whatever you do..? tysm if you do, and if you don’t then no worries!!

i love you mae and make sure to take care of yourself and keep being you!!!!

thanks for requesting gorgeous, i really hope you're doing well!! proud of you <3

cw: smoking, reader deals with addiction

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 936 words

Remus smells like cigarettes. He’s stopped smoking anywhere near you, but you’re sure if you look out the front door you’ll see the telltale smear of ash smashed into the sidewalk from where he’d stamped one out on the way in. The aroma brings longing and self-loathing, the former more potent than the latter, and you find yourself breathing in the fibers of his sweater for a whiff of it. 

Remus doesn’t catch onto the true motivation for your proximity. He takes it for cuddling, adjusting his hold on his book so he can read with one hand while the other wraps around your shoulders, encouraging you closer to his side. Underneath the heady smell of lingering smoke he smells like himself, like cinnamon and oranges, and you try to focus on that as your better sense fogs over and your fingers start itching for a cig. 

“Aha!” Sirius slaps his last card down on the table. 

James blows out a flabbergasted breath, leaning back on his hands on the floor. They’re playing some kids’ card game Remus learned in primary school and unwisely taught them. At first you’d all gotten into it, but after Sirius nearly took your head off for forgetting the rules and playing with two hands (“Sorry, gorgeous, you know I don’t mean anything I say when I’m trying to win…and I could have won, couldn’t I? No, I’m just saying, it’s about the principle—”) you and Remus had bowed out. James and Sirius have retained their obsession for days, each keeping a scoreboard in their own heads that seems to hold them in favor. 

“Angel?” 

You look up, meeting James’ knowing gaze. “Hm?” 

“He asked if you’re getting hungry for dinner,” Remus clues you in, toying with the ends of your hair. 

“Oh, sorry. Um…” You think hard. One of the more irritating things about quitting smoking is that now your appetite never seems to fully die down. You’re ready for your next meal all day long, and so you actually have to think about whether it makes sense for you to have it. “I had some carrots just after I got home, so I could eat whenever you want to.” 

“Alright…” 

You take another deep inhale, telling yourself it’s because Remus smells nice and losing your grasp on self-control all the while. 

“Are you tired?” Remus asks, and you don’t know how you didn’t notice it before, that extra bit of roughness that his voice takes on after he’s been smoking. You’re so envious you could die. “You seem distracted.” 

“I’m good,” you murmur. Though perhaps it’d be better if you did take a nap or something. You’re beginning to feel twitchy. You take in a breath through your nose like you’ve been practicing, letting it out through your mouth. 

“Ah.” Sirius scoots closer to you, laying his cheek on the couch cushion. “You want to have a piece of your gum, sweet thing?” 

You look at him guiltily. Remus makes a soft sound of realization. 

“You’re picking your nails,” Sirius explains, and you look down to see that you are. “I imagine that means you’re craving one.” 

It’s simultaneously sweet and irksome that none of your boyfriends will even say the word cigarette around you anymore. They’re trying to be considerate, you know, but it feels like they think your self-control is so tenuous that just one word could shatter it. You don’t have the heart to tell them. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, getting the pack of gum out of your pocket. Just the act of unwrapping a stick makes you feel instantly better. “I guess I was thinking I wouldn’t need it anymore.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” James says lightly. “I don’t imagine it’s easy, sweetheart, you shouldn’t feel bad about using something to cope. It’s not like having gum hurts anything.” 

You hum, then turn to Remus sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, do you think you might be able to change?” He looks confused. “Your sweater smells like cigarettes,” you explain. 

James gasps as though scandalized and Remus swears, grabbing the neckline of his sweater and tugging it off. He tosses it into the hall. 

“M’sorry, dove.” He takes your head between his hands, mushing a kiss into your hair. He’s now bare-chested, and you laugh at the dramatics, totally unexpected from him. “I didn’t realize. Is it better now?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

He drops another kiss on your head, remorseful. “Alright, I’ll go grab something else to wear,” he says, starting to stand. Both Sirius and James protest loudly. 

“I think what you’re wearing now looks great,” says James. 

“Yeah,” Sirius seconds, “stay in that.” 

Remus looks down at his shirtless torso, raising an eyebrow at the other boys. You can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. 

“Really?” he asks. 

“Come on, it’s not like the fucking Pope’s coming over,” Sirius says, looking well below your boyfriend’s eyes with unabashed enthusiasm. “Tell him, gorgeous.” 

Remus turns his gaze on you. You curl in on yourself slightly, shrugging your shoulders. “This is the best distraction I’ve had all day,” you say quietly, and James’ laughter booms off the walls. 

“Fair enough.” Remus rolls his eyes, grinning as he sits back down on the couch beside you. You get comfy like you were against his side, now smelling only him. He drapes his arm across your back, settling a hand on your hip. “The lows I stoop to for you, hm?” 

“If you’re not up to the task,” Sirius says, “just say the word. I’d be happy to take her off your hands.” 

“Fuck off,” Remus says, and tugs you closer.

[fictoculus]

౨ৎ genshin men; love languages...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... aether, albedo, alhaitham, ayato, childe, diluc, gorou, heizou, itto, kaeya, kaveh, kazuha, neuvillette, scara, thoma, tighnari, wriothesley, venti, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli

A/N... ohemgee kaede is back ?!! i'm sorry it's been so longggg i've really missed writing, i think i js kinda lost my spark for a bit but i should be back to posting nowww hooray !! even if i don't come backkk (since i'm not fully certain) i hope you can still enjoy these hc drabble thingies nd also my previous works, thank you ♡

✧ quality time.

he wants nothing more than to spend time with you, to smell the sweet fragrance of your perfume as it dances in the gentle breeze. he wants to watch as your hair flows gently, each strand delicately swaying back and forth, as if to mimic the way he swings his arms when his hand is holding yours. just being around you gets him all excited, though you'll never catch him actually admitting it. he has countless photos of the two of you together, each one connected with a memory that will stay with him forever. he often finds himself looking over them late at night when he's missing you, wishing you were there to hold him, or tell him about your interests, even sitting in silence would suffice. he just wants to be with you, whether that be studying, sleeping, reading, shopping, eating - he doesn't care, he'll do anything as long as it's with you..

xiao, alhaitham, aether, heizou, wriothesley + your favs

✧ gift giving.

it's almost like routine. at least once a fortnight, he comes knocking on your door with some sort of gift, stops you in the corridor with a bag full of goodies, or has a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers delivered straight to your front door when he's unable to come see you. he goes through a lot of trouble behind the scenes to get these things together for you, but it's all worth it when he sees that pretty smile light up your face, eyes glistening with pure excitement as you see whatever he's prepared for you. his eyes, on the other hand, are full of love as he sees the outcome of his hard work; your happiness is of utmost importance to him. the gifts he gives come in all different shapes and sizes, anything from a snack you'd said you'd been craving to a ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery, but you know that no matter what it is, he put so much thought and care into picking it out for you; that's what mattered to you most. even if he didn't shower you in his love this way, you wouldn't love him any less - of course you wouldn't. you care about him, not the things he gives you (though you really do appreciate them). he loves you more than words can say, and this is his way of showing it.

zhongli, ayato, albedo, neuvillette + your favs

✧ physical touch.

he's all over you. from the second you wake up to the moment you drift off to sleep. 24/7. he just can't get enough. he's practically addicted to your warmth, the softness of your skin, scars and all. it no longer comes as a surprise when you feel his arms snake around your waist from behind, or even when he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek as he moulds around your figure. he can't seem to stay away from you. the second he hears your voice, or the mention of your name, even your footsteps (yes, he knows), he comes rushing over, immediately insisting on intertwining his fingers with yours. your contact is replenishing to him. no matter how tired he is or how many hardships he had to face that day, feeling you run your hands up and down his back or cup his cheeks, his mood is immediately uplifted.

itto, childe, diluc, tighnari, kaeya, kaveh + your favs

✧ words of affirmation.

"i love you" "i love you" "i love you" it's constant, over and over and over. he repeats it a thousand times, as if it's an ancient incantation, but he still doesn't think it's enough. he just wants you to know how perfect you are, how beautiful you are, how easy to love you are; he wants you to see yourself the way he sees you. he's desperate to talk about you, to tell someone how much he loves you, and who else would he tell than the person he trusts most? and so, when the two of you are finally snuggled up close, he'll whisper in your ear the most poetic words you've ever heard, trying his best to capture your essence, though to him, it always feels just out of reach. he knows he'll never be able to truly explain how he feels about you, because there are no words for that feeling he gets in his heart when he hears your voice, or lays his eyes on you, let alone thinks about you. he recites your own stories and little habits back to you as if you're a complete stranger to yourself, and honestly, you can't help but find it endearing. he loves you so much, and he always knows the perfect things to say to see that smile he treasures deep in his heart.

kazuha, xingqiu, zhongli, venti, neuvillette + your favs

✧ acts of service.

sure, he may not be so good with words, but not to worry, he makes up for it one way or another. it's the little things for him. every morning without fail, he'll pack your lunch and leave it on the kitchen counter for you, a little memo hidden inside signed off with his initials and a small doodle, as always. he'll iron your clothes and hang them in your wardrobe, all neat and tidy for when you get dressed the next day. he'll get up 15 minutes earlier than when you usually arise, cooking breakfast for you and letting the scent of crisp bacon waft into the bedroom and wake you from your slumber. he'll do anything for you, big or small; he just wants to make sure you know how much he loves you.

scara, thoma, alhaitham, diluc + your favs

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you’d like me to write next!

TAGLIST…@maopll . @nyxmainex . @avensuersa . @moondrop-gummies. @lacunaanonymoused apply here

© FICTOCULUS 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

[carbonfiction]

Saw that your asks were open today!! Just read your logan migraine comfort fic, and I loved it!!! So I was thinking, how about logan with like a reader being stressed out over exams? (I'm sitting for a mock exam tomorrow, and the days leading up to it have been hell!!) Back to the fic idea, he could like help her by holding the book for her, flashcards, etc. It can be any logan you like i had in mind origins logan in a cabin setting but up to you. Love your writing!!!

Hiii anon, thank you for the love on the migraine piece!! i hope the exam goes okay- ive been in a similar situation as of late and mocks or not they are so so stressful so i hope this lil drabble helps even a little <33

Study buddy (boyfriend)

Masterlist. Words: 753

A frustrated sigh falls from your lips, closing the textbook infront of you with a less than gentle slam. The chair creaks under you as you sit back, stretching your spine, then your shoulders you feel the fatigue tugging at you.

There was little more you wanted to do than cuddle up with your boyfriend, Logan, on the couch. Comfortable clothes on, belly filled with your favorite takeout as you sit amused by some show logan flicks on the tv- probably The Great British Bake Off knowing his soft spot for it; despite his vehement denial.

But instead, you'd been holled up inside the office space logan had cornered off for you inside the cabin. The lamp giving a golden hued glow to the room as the hours ticked by. Exam season was in full swing boy, oh boy was it taking its toll on you.

"Hows it goin baby?" logans enquires with a quiet knock, broad body momentarily leaning against the wooden doorframe. He's been watching you study, scribbling notes and reading over the information that sits on the desk.

You wip around to him with a soft smile, noticing the mug in his hand, steaming and hot as he begins to tread closer.

"Exhausting.." you sigh, peaking into the mug as he rests it on the coaster by your book. "'S that for me?"

"Ofcourse, exactly how you like it" he smiles, large hands coming to rest on your shoulders. His fingers messaging into the tense muscles as he stands behind the chair. "Figured you could do with it, been glued to that book for hours"

"And yet.. It feels like nothing is going in. No matter how much i do the practice papers or read.." you frown, taking a long sip of the hot tea and logan can practically feel the frustration coming from you. His heart squeezing in his chest at how hard your pushing yourself as your other hand reaches forward to rustle through more papers.

"Need a break sweetheart" he kisses the crown of your head softly.

"Cant.. Gotta get it in before tomorrow" You grumble back sadly.

"Alright" he sighs, fetching the spare chair from the corner of the room until it sits beside you at the desk. "if you wont take a break, at least let me help?"

"Logan you dont have-" you go to protest, but logan picking up a pen and tapping it repetitively onto the desk interups you.

"C'mon, Get me up to speed baby."

"It- its the history one, the civil war" you confess quietly.

"Your kiddin" logan huffs, amusement filling his tone as a grin speads across his lips. "All this time you've been in here, worrying your pretty little head.. While you could've just given me a call?"

"I- i didnt want to bother you.. Dredge it all up again in your head, know how hard you try to leave it behind.."

"Baby.." logan starts, a hand coming to rest on your thigh with a gentle reassuring squeeze. "You ever need to know anything you just ask me okay? If i can help then i want to.. use it for some good."

Another two hours tick by after that; the dimly lit office bustling with back and forth conversation as logan fills in the gaps to questions youve struggled on.

He's even alternated between holding the book, reading, recounting memory and testing you with the little laminated flash cards you'd made.

Its within this time, much to your joy, the information goes in and stays. Logans voice always full of praise as you correctly answer the last card.

"You got it baby, a ten out of ten!" Logan grins brightly as his arm comes to wrap around your shoulders. No longer do they sit hunched and tense under his grasp.

"Thats the.. The first time ive gotten them all right.." You trail blinking, unmoving for a moment, until you practically jump from your chair into his lap as logan playfully huffs at the drop of your body onto his.

His legs widen, arms wrapping around your back tugging you ever closer. Your head resting in the crook of his neck as you drape yourself over him. His body is warm and soft under your grasp and he feels the featherlight press of your lips kissing over him, smiling widely as you make each contact.

"Told ya you could do it, just gotta take a breath sometimes." Logan whispers, his voice like honey as calloused fingers brush your hair away. His own lips find your temple, mumbling quietly against your skin. "'M so proud of you."

Im awful at closing out drabbles/fics im so sorry but i really jumped at writing this since im struggling with studdying rn!! Plus writing for Origins!Logan is so much fun bc hes just so boyfriend in my mind!! Perfect timing anon, i really do hope you enjoy <33

[eroscomet]

Make it Right

Chapter two- Hauting for Home

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Paring: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!Reader

Warnings: Mentions death, a bit angsty, bad writing. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 3k+

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm so sorry that this chapter took a while to make. I was busy on the weekend; however, I found time to finally finish the chapter for you all! I really do hope you guys enjoy this one! I will try to get a specific schedule for updates on certain stories. If you guys are wondering about updates for 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours,' I will try to update that as soon as possible. I will also be doing a couple drabbles on different characters and or drabbles of characters I've already written for. I would also like to thank you guys so much for all the support you all have been showing me! I am so thankful and grateful for each and every one of you! Thank you so much for every like, reblog, and comment, it means a lot to me!

Not proof read

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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"You talked to my dad?!" Astrid had exclaimed with an amused smile on her face. There it was, that twinkle in her eye that you had missed so much. She hadn't been very happy recently, with you not around and everything else in her life that had been happening.

"Yeah, when I had first died. I got sent to the immigration office, and what do you know? There he was behind the glass. He's just as kind as you always told me he'd be. Surprisingly, he immediately recognized me. He told me that he had been watching after you and practically watched our love 'blossom,' as he put it." The two of you continued walking outside.

You couldn't help but think about how people must be seeing this. Astrid looked as if she were talking to herself from an outside perspective. Aware of her past, you knew people had a tendency to bully her, so when nearing Miss Shannon's School for Girls, you tried to get her to talk as much so that others wouldn't look at her funny. So, you took up most of the time on the way there, talking as much as she could so that she didn't have time to talk. Which was odd because she was usually the one who'd talk while you'd listen.

"He said he liked me, which is a relief. Sometimes, I feel like your mom is more confused but is trying to be supportive. I mean, remember when I had first come over, and she started talking about how she too 'experimented' as she said. Anyway, that isn't the point. I met your dad, and we actually frequently visited you together. It's funny, sometimes we'd bond over how much we missed you."

Astrid's eyes had furrowed as she had begun to notice that every time she began or wanted to speak, you only spoke faster, almost sputtering out information. A frown tugged at your lips as she had caught on.

"I just don't want people to look at you even more weirder than they already do. If you're talking to yourself, they'll find that an easy target. Try...putting on some headphones and pretending you're on the phone? Or you can just put your phone up to your ear?"

She smiled as she took her phone out of her pocket and brought it up to her ear.

"Thanks, you're right. So, what else did he say about me? Did you see my grandfather? What's the afterlife like?" Astrid felt like she had a million different questions to ask.

"Your dad says he's proud of you and that he sees himself in you all the time. As for your grandpa, no. I mean, I feel as if it's harder to find him since he did lose his head to a shark. The afterlife is a bit weird. I can't tell you much about it since I haven't exactly crossed over. I basically only know what headquarters and a few shops look like. I mean, there's a 'Soul Train' which essentially takes you to the 'Great Beyond,' but I never went because I don't want to risk not being able to watch over you."

You grabbed Astid's shoulders, moving beside her to walk toward the street end of the sidewalk. Even though you were dead, the sidewalk rule never really left you, even while Astrid couldn't even see you.

"Yeah, I figured. I almost can't believe that a shark bite ended his life, I knew my family wasn't normal, but we can't even have a somewhat normal death? The Great Beyond, huh? Soul Train is a clever name though. Does no one know what's on the side?"

"I mean, I've never seen someone leave then come back from the train in the full year, almost two years that I've been here. I'm not taking the risk and crossing anyway, I can't lose you again after we just got back to each other."

"You're right..." Her eyebrows furrowed, her attention on the sidewalk as they continued to walk. She thought to herself for a moment before speaking again.

"So, you don't have any ghost tricks you learned?"

"Of course, you'd ask that, would you be disappointed in me if I said I didn't?"

"I mean, you've been gone for a year almost two, I'd expect you to know at least something to make me feel better for all the time you've been gone."

"Okay, uhhh... I can walk through walls and, I guess, float a bit."

"That sounds like every other ghost."

"Just because i'm a ghost doesn't mean I have super powers, Astrid."

"Just saying."

"I mean, I do have this nasty scar from the accident." You lowered your shirt neckline, showing the scar on the lower part of your neck. Astrid winced at the scar before looking away.

"Right. Weird how all it took was one neck twist for you to die.

"Well, it's more like my neck twisted as if I was a cartoon character that got punched, and my head began spinning-"

"Ew, shut up. Don't talk about it like it's something light."

"I'm sorry, you're right."

It was silent for a bit as you guys walked into the school, Astrid opened one of the doors while you phased right through the other door. Astird put her phone back into her pocket as she walked upstairs and past the other students. You followed after her, your eyebrows furrowing at the other students nearby her dorm. Some of them whispering to each other while giggling.

That's when Astrid opened her dorm room's door, a bedsheet attached to the ceiling by a rope coming straight towards her. The bedsheet makes out a ghost with a 'Boo' sign in its chest area. Astrid stumbled back before turning around and looking at the other girls, who began to burst out into laughter behind her.

"When you're all driving carpool and banging your pilates instructor to fill the empty voids in your life, we'll see who gets the last laugh."

The girls smiles and laughs quickly died as she finished speaking. Astrid turned around as she went into her room, shutting the door behind her. You smiled proudly, a laugh escaping you as you saw the looks on the girls faces as they disburst from Astrid's door.

"Witty as always." You said as you phased through her dorm room's door. The make-shift ghost on the ceiling startling you a bit as you had almost 'ran' into it. Sometimes you forget you're a ghost even if it's been a year.

"They have not toned down with the comments? You had always been careful about this topic, not wanting to bring it up too much with Astrid.

"No." It was a simple and straightforward answer that made you not want to question further. A part of you felt angry that you were helpless to all of it now that you're dead. You had gotten so used to defending her against everyone but now your words would only fall on deaf ears.

You sighed as you plopped yourself onto her dorm room's bed, thinkiing for a moment on how to steer away the conversation of bullying that she obviously did not want to talk about.

"Did you hear that my sister's pregnant? I know that I shouldn't bother looking over them since they're perfectly fine.."

"I'm not surprised."

"She's naming the baby after me."

"God, that's ridiculous! Naming their kid after a relative who isn't even dead yet-" Astrid's voice faltered for a moment. The fact that you were dead and have been for almost two years was still a punch in the gut after all this time.

"That's what I said, baby." You offered her a small smile as you played into the bit that you were still alive for Astrid. She still wanted to make her at least feel a bit better.

'Baby.'

Your words - and your smile, even if it was for her benefit - just made Astrid's heart twist further in her chest.

"You're killing me here."

"Why?" Your head tilted to the side as you looked at her.

"Because you're supposed to be dead." Her voice came out in a strangled whisper as she looked down at the papers scattered on her desk.

You bit your lip, you didn't want to show that what Astrid had said hurt you. Even if you were dead, you still had emotions and feelings. You paused for a moment before deciding to drop the topic.

"So, they're having a baby shower. You should go."

"Oh god, a baby shower? Is it too late to make you disappear again?" Her face had immediately scrunched up with distaste at the idea of being forced to go to a baby shower - especially your self-centered sister's baby shower where she'd name her child after you for her own gain.

"Come on, you couldn't see me for a whole year, and now that you're finally able to, you already want to get rid of me? That's cold, babe, even for you. Even for me who's dead cold. Get it? Huh? Dead cold. Because i'm dead? And i'm cold now because I have no blood. No? Okay."

"Oof, that was horrible." She said as she shook her head and grumbled in response.

"Come on, admit you missed me. I heard all your late-night talks that you thought weren't reaching my ears."

"I did miss you - I've missed you for a whole year." She confessed, sounding a bit surprised by her own confession. The room fell silent, the weight of everything that had happened falling onto the both of them. Neither of them wanted to address it, though, they didn't want to have to deal with it now.

"Did you ever-" She paused for a moment as she thought of the right words to say, "When I'd lay in your bed and mope, were you just...watching me?"

"No, I hated that. I'd still do what I would've done if I were alive. I tried holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear that never got to you."

"Sweet nothings, huh?" She teased, which earned an eye roll from you. Again, the room had fell silent as the two were lost in thought before Astrid spoke again, breaking the silence.

"How bad did it hurt?"

"Uh.. Well... I just remember being on the ground one second, then in the air the next. I landed, and well- You know what. It had hurt for that second that I was alive, but it had been an instant death if anything."

Having to talk about your death wasn't an easy topic. It was a reminder of how quick you had lost it all. The blood in your system, the beat of your heart, Astrid. The sight of you nervously fidgeting with your own fingers made Astrid's heart ache.

"I hate that." She muttered, her voice coming in strained, almost as if she was forcing herself to get the words out.

"I'm sorry." Your words were mumbled as she continued to fidget with your fingers, now more anxiously than before. The apology caused Astrid to shut her eyes, trying to hold herself together. She felt that now was not the time to start breaking down.

"Don't. Don't apologize." She had almost snapped at you as she opened her eyes to shoot a glare at you.

"Okay." You were never one to go against her word, you didn't want to start a fight. Especially not now. All you could do was bring up one of your hands, beginning to gently pull on the hairs on the back of your neck as you avoided Astrid's eyes.

"Is that a nervous habit of yours now? Pulling your hair." She asked as she reached her hand out idly to brush your hair out of your eyes.

"I had gotten it when I first reached the afterlife. When you watch the people you love hurting, and all you can do is ghost around them..." Your voice had faltered, forcing yourself to clear your throat and then begin to speak again.

"You feel so helpless. Watching everyone who used to be around you and love you so miserable about your death. It makes you feel guilty but, most of all, useless. There's no way to hold, touch, talk to, comfort them... It's hard."

The room had fallen silent after your words. Astrid's fingertips gently brushed along the back of your head - tracing the place that you usually pulled at. She let her hand rest there, trying to keep you from pulling at your hair again.

"How cold am I?"

Your words made Astrid pause for a moment. Leaning closer to you as she wrapped an arm around her now ghost girlfriend. The chill of your skin made her shiver involuntarily - but Astrid tried not to show the way her body automatically wanted to shy away from the cold.

"Really damn cold. It's like you're an ice cube almost." Her words a mumble as she got closer to you, laying next to you as she rested her head on top of yours.

"I'm sorry that I'm not warm anymore." Your own words come out as a mumble as well, instinctively, your head rests on her shoulder.

"I know you don't much like when it's really cold. I thought I was keeping myself with this sweater but now that someone's actually able to touch me, I realize it's doing nothing for me."

"Gosh, you don't have to apologize for that. At least you're here." She pulled you closer against her, her arms wrapping around your waist - burtying her face into your shoulder, even if your skin was freezing and caused a slight burn against her own warm skin. She ignored the way that her body had involutarily shivered at the contact - focusing instead on the fact that her girlfriend was here.

"Barely." You mumbled quietly as you gently pulled away from your girlfriend, knowing that you were probably burning Astrid's skin with your own cold, dead skin that was now a pale blue hue.

"Don't be like that. You're talking as if you have no more hope."

"Death has a way of doing that."

Astrid let out a quiet huff at your words. Her eyes flickered back and forth from you and her own hands that were now gripped tightly on her bedding - but in the next moment, she let go. Almost as if with a full burst of speed, she darted to you. Her arms wrapping around your body, hauling you into her bed in a tight, crushing embrace.

"Astrid-" You had said in surprise and protest. You knew that you were cold. Dead. The cold would burn Astrid at one point, and you didn't want that. Not when you used to be alive and warm for her. You used to keep her warm and now you can only burn her with your icy dead skin.

"Don't even think about complaining. I don't care if you're cold." Astrid snapped as she held you impossibly close against her. Her body shivered once again as your cold skin was like a bucket of cold water dumped over her body - but she ignored the cold, focusing on the sensation of her girlfriend in her arms.

A frown had tugged at your lips, knowing that eventually, Astrid would get too cold, but after a year of being a lone ghost who watched your loved ones move on or suffer because of you, you couldn't help but be a little selfish. Your arms wrapped around her as tightly as you could.

You missed your girlfriend so much. Watching over her for a year, her suffering for a full year over your death, had done a number on you. You'd cry if you could, but all you felt was this deep internal sadness. You had no heartbeat, you had no blood to warm your body, you had no tears to shed from your dry eyes. Your chest was the most still it had ever been, you had no air to breathe anymore.

It had begun to feel like too much for the both of them. Being this close to each other after a year of thinking they'd never be able to have contact again, feeling each other's skin despite the feeling of a small burning on her own skin from your own. It was almost enough to make Astrid cry.

The cold was beginning to seep into her skin - making her shiver and leaving her skin prickled. But Astrid wouldn't - couldn't - let go of you. Not when it had been a year since she was able to hold you. You had only frowned as you held her tighter. A small hiss escaped Astrid from the cold contact as she tried to get herself impossibly closer to you.

"Damn it, it's getting too cold." She hissed, speaking between clenched teeth as she tried to bury her face into your shoulder further.

"Warm up with the blankets, I'll just lay beside you. I promise I won't disappear." You pulled away, gently moving Astrid off of yourself as you carefully pulled her bedsheets over her body. When you finished tucking her in, you lay beside her, admiring every detail you could land your eyes on.

She only huffed a bit, feeling oddly petulant about the fact that she had to let go of you However, she did as she was told. A small shiver rattled her body as her eyes locked onto yours. She managed to mumble something incohereently as she reached for you, trying to tug you close again.

"Too cold, baby. Just give it a moment. I'm here, you see me." You tried to reassure her as you gently tugged a strand of hair behind her ear.

'Baby.' The soft nickname only made her want to pull you close again, but she knew that you were right. Her boy was cold - skin still pricked and burned from being in contact with her girlfriend. She snuggled further into the bedding, her hand gently reaching out to yours. Linking her own pinky with yours, causing you to smile. Her eyes looked into yours as if asking if it was okay to which you had nodded.

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A/N: I don't know why this felt like such a short chapter to me despite it being the most words I've written so far?? I might have some filler chapters for this and 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours' sometimes. Then again, there is still a lot to write for the storyline themselves. Thank you, lovelies, for all the support on my posts! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm so sorry if some days I do not have time to update. Also, if there's anyone that wants to be tagged for updates on this story, leave a comment saying so! Bye, loves!

[satoruhour]

hello!! ive been lurking on your acc for a little bit and i absolutely adore your writing like omg!! but earlier i got to thinkin about toji (as we all do) and i was thinking about how vulgar i imagine him to be in a sexual context and it makes me like soo shy and im not shy 🙄 im just obsessed with the idea of him saying really filthy shit to us and then practicing what he preaches yk

PRACTISE WHAT YOU PREACH

a/n: i keep falling asleep on the couch writing. and thank u for the inspiration for the name LOL

wc: 2.4k

warnings: reader has the same bite to her as toji does but gets shy when said man says filthy things, dom!toji, implication of sex in parts of the drabble, (public) dirty talk, pet names, he calls you ‘whore’ and ‘slut‘, toji calls you ‘mama’ once, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, spitting (on hand and in mouth), p -> v penetration, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, riidng, praise, degradation, daddy kink at the end, creampie / breeding kink, brief oral / cunnilingus @ the end, n*sfw under the cut

fushiguro toji is a vulgar man inside and out. It’s obvious when he tells the teenage boys to go fuck themselves when he catches them looking at you and you have to slap his bicep, or perhaps grabbing a piece of your ass while waiting in line to pay for groceries and all you can do is send him a nasty glare and a strong nudge of your elbow.

he doesn’t mind his baby fighting back, especially with how easily he can overturn the tables and have you squirming and breathing heavily whenever he gets you under him in the bedroom.

it comes to light first when you’re talking with a co-worker at a company party, talking casually with them before toji comes over with both your drinks. he’s tamer, then, sucking up to your insufferable colleagues even if they didn’t know what they were saying. this dude was clearly eyeing you, too, despite knowing toji was your plus one, and at that point the poor man has had enough.

“how ’bout you invite him back to our hotel and let him watch as i fuck you? maybe then he would stop fucking starin’.” toji passes you your drink as he whispers it, albeit the last part filled with mild bitterness, not entirely as secretive as he would like to be because the colleague’s eyes are widening immediately. he swallows his saliva at the large stature of your boyfriend’s and you just know he did it on purpose. but when you don’t reply and bark back at him with annoyance, toji’s lips curl in a smile, a light bulb going off in his head at his discovery and he’s been incessant since.

“yeah? how ’bout you clean a bathroom for once, fucker,” you roll your eyes, throwing a rag into the bathroom sink, disgruntled at how your boyfriend couldn’t even clean his own sink. it was beyond him to clean the place where water flowed everyday but when he told you that all you could muster was a look of disgust.

you were in no mood for him when you saw him creep in behind you in the mirror, eyes trained on the male who just mutters apologies into your neck, kissing the skin there like a tease and resist the urge to shiver, keeping up your angered expression.

until his words hit. “’m sorry baby, shoulda known better than to say stupid shit like that. how ’bout i make it up to you?”

“like what, toji? you gonna get on your hands and knees and scrub the floors yourself? cause i’d like th—”

“i’ll do it,” but not for the reason you think, “i’ll do it if i get to eat my pretty girl’s pussy out. and then let me pound her while she watches how good i make her feel.”

needless to say, your panties were thrown in the washing machine immediately as he made your moans echo in that squeezy bathroom, and the sink ended up being squeaky clean for the next few weeks.

it’s the best way to get you to shut up and sometimes the way your lips move as you’re rambling about something or how your figure looks as you’re reaching for the tv remote and spouting profanities is just so hypnotising. he’s obsessed with you.

toji stares blankly at you while you’re explaining the way to work the air fryer for the third time that day, and it’s not his fault you’re currently in a camisole. it’s accentuating your tits and the home shorts you’re in isn’t helping either, because he can easily swipe it to the side to fuck into you.

you snap your fingers in front of his face, “wha—? listen to me when i’m talking to you, babe.”

toji just rolls his eyes, something he knows you hate, and he watches your outburst with a lovestruck smile. he catches your snapping hand with ease, switching to holding it. “hey! what did i say about rolling eyes?”

he leans forward, placing his other hand dangerously close to your ass, but the forehead peck distracts you. “i heard you the first time, darling.”

“you—!” toji just laughs at your surprise. sure, he was old as fuck but he wasn’t entirely clueless about the air fryer, but he let you explain and drone on about the settings, knowing you’d be focused on the device. that way, his eyes could travel unforgivingly and just like that, the playful moment is overcome by his vulgar disposition again, the act of his body craving yours before his words made you freeze on the spot.

“but enough about air fryers, hm?” the sight of toji’s hand almost covering yours was enough to send you reeling, but it’s increased when he drags your hand down the hardness of his front. you can feel the ridges of his abs, down, down, down until his bulge. he guides you to squeeze his dick, a guttural groan making its way to the front of his throat. “how ’bout you show me how much your eyes can roll back as my cock disappears into you, huh?”

your breath hitches at the proposition and toji’s smile spreads into a grin at your reaction because it’s like this every. single. time. unconsciously your hands start to undo the knot of his sweatpants, pulling it under his hardened shaft, the other sighing when your hand finally wraps around it. it aches so much that he finds himself thrusting into your hand briefly before you start stroking.

toji gathers a blob of spit on his tongue and maintains eye contact, spitting directly onto his cock for some lubrication and you take a deep breath, slick noises sounding out throughout the house. he makes sure to do it again later. “getting it ready for your pretty little cunt, aren’t you? filthy girl— f-fuck…”

the words make you rub your thighs together, stepping closer to him while you continue stroking, up, down and up, down, determined to give him a taste of his own medicine. pushing him until you’re out of the kitchen, he lets you shove him onto the couch, a loud groan leaving his lips when you descend to your knees and your mouth closes around his cock.

“s’big,” you whimper, swirling your tongue around his angry tip and going back to deepthroating him, desperate to feel his dick down your throat.

“oh— s-shit, baby,” toji pulls back the hair from your head, seeing your eyes barely being able to focus as it hits the back of your throat, “that’s it… suck it like the dirty whore you are.”

the degradation is reason enough for you to bob your head quickly, moaning around his length as your mouth drips drool mixed with the pre-cum from his tip. toji chokes out your name, hips bucking into your warm mouth while your hands find purchase on his thick thighs, taking him down your throat until your nose meets his pelvis. soon he‘s cumming down your throat with grunts, feeling the hot semen rush into your cavern.

“stay there, good fuckin’ girl,” the other groans out when your eyes shift to him, swallowing bits of his cum with a small stream of tears filling your lash line that threaten to fall. he notices your hand sneaking into your panties and he smirks, bringing you off his cock to catch your breath. you sputter and gasp, hand still lightly wrapped around him. he’s still hard after cumming, but he’s also more sensitive.

“can i ride you now?” you ask like it’s any other question, shimmying out of your underwear before wasting no time to straddle him. his tip pokes your pussy and you grab him, dragging him up and down your folds to collect your slick. before long, you’re grinding on the bottom of his shaft, your labia spread along his dick and toji is charmed by how you move on him with needy moans and two hands on his torso.

“sure ya can, doll, but…” you can tell toji’s impatient, as with you, so with a roll of your eyes (toji mumbles under his breath that you’re a hypocrite), you sink down slowly on him, the arousal of your cunt wet enough to take him without prep. inch by inch you take him deep, head thrown back as toji enjoys the view — the curve of your body, how your nipples poke through your camisole — and he smiles as his baby calls out his name from being so full.

“o-oh my god… toji—” the last bits of his name fades out when he moves his hips experimentally, the pain soon fading into pleasure and the feel of his cock in you causes you to lean forward.

“yes?” he grins, body now propped up with his elbows, meeting you halfway, “is my princess tired already?”

“n-no, i can do it,” you mewl when your hips start to bounce, the stretch of his dick feeling so good. he’s reaching places in you that you can’t even fathom, “i can take you…”

toji groans softly at your declaration, body twisted in such pleasure as you soon find a rhythm on him, relishing in the way toji watches you with lust in his eyes. he helps you with a hand on your hips, but the other pushes your top past your tits, mouth latching onto your nipple and taking one into his mouth and the gesture halts your movement for a bit. a chill runs through your body as he swirls his tongue around your bud, a breathless moan leaving you as toji looks up at you through hooded eyes.

it’s got you clenching, and toji hums into your chest, moving to your other nipple before releasing it with a pop! “tired?”

you make a small sound of agreement, the sensations of his thick cock in you paired with his lips on your tits and the burn of your thighs too much for you. he happily indulges you, bringing your body close to him before he plants his feet on the sofa and fucks up into you, a choked moan leaving you. that one thrust was just to tease you, limping into his embrace as he hears the slap of his balls onto your ass.

“you’re taking me alright,” toji laughs, cut off by a moan when he continues his ministrations, entranced by how you’re so wet you manage to leak down his length. with how your pussy is drooling, he rams into you easily, obscene noises of your sopping cunt against his pelvis as your sounds of pleasure comes out in little breaths.

“so wet,” toji comments softly, cock twitching from how your boobs felt against him and how your pussy feels so damn tight. it hugs him so snugly he has to will himself not to cum, but you’re making it difficult by how you call out his name in whines. “don’t tell me she was wet earlier already?”

you can hardly focus on his questions as he bullies his cock into you, body rocking from his relentless hips and the friction of your clit against his skin, but you mutter out a yes, a high-pitched one that’s got toji chuckling.

“my baby loves it when i talk dirty, huh?” you whine into his neck, arms tightening around his neck, “she loves it when i tell her how much i want to slam my cock into her pussy, yeah?” toji is ruthless, continuing to thrust while his words have very much the same effect. “or maybe she wants me to say how i want to cum deep in her cunt, filling her to the brim. shit… does she want me to fuck a baby into her?”

you clamp down around his cock with a loud moan and he stutters, “gotta stop clenching around me, darlin’, f-fuck.”

“y-yeah… wan’ that…” you pull away from your hiding place to babble out, eyes close to closing and drool dripping down the sides of your mouth. “wan’ all your cum, daddy.”

toji sucks in a breath at the name drop and in a second, he’s switching the positions. he admires the sweat on your skin and your heaving chest, and for the first time he’s able to see just how soaking wet you are, along with the stretch of your pussy on him.

“wan’ you to make me a mommy…” you mewl softly, and that’s all it takes for the other to start moving again because if it’s anything he loves more than seeing you crumble at his words, it’s how you tell him what you want.

you can feel toji twitch in you at that, but you have close to no strength, letting him thrust into you with vigour that’s running out too — he’s too besotted with your moans and face that’s morphed into pleasure, along with your whiny pleas.

“c’mon, open your mouth, mama,” toji pulls on your bottom lip with his thumb, “stick out ya tongue.”

you obey, hand squeezing his bicep as he gathers saliva in his mouth again, thrusts stopping briefly. he can feel your hips move, but you’re still focused on how toji purses his lips and how the spit leaves his lips — the long line of spit that descends slowly onto your tongue and the tension that surrounds it tells him you love it.

“attagirl,” he grins, wiping the corners of your cavern as the pace starts up again, and it’s so sudden you already feel like cumming.

“g’nna cum, daddy,” you mutter out, legs closing around him when you feel the familiar coil of your abdomen and toji just holds you closer, intoxicated with the moment that he wants it to last. “gonna—”

your eyes are blown wide when toji secretly reaches down to press a thumb into your clit, drawing lazy circles. that’s enough for your orgasm to come crashing down on you, pussy clenching hard on the other.

“daddy— oh my god!” toji still continues to rail into you, whimpers of his name spurring him on until you’re moaning out again as his cock spurts his cum deep in your cunt, filling you with his load until it spills out.

toji immediately drops down and starts to lap at your clit, a first class seat to his cum leaking from your pussy, laughing when you hardly care about it staining the sofa, too cockdrunk to care about reprimanding him.

“so pliant,” toji uses a finger to push his cum into you, “maybe i should get you like this more often, heh.”

[maxlarens]

okay i’m feeling especially crazy about this concept but imagine like reader having her pr relationship going on and being pissed at george and during qualifying or free practice or even a race, george is halfway through telling her something (maybe telling her something about pace, or what max had been complaining about on the track) and she just goes “no radio!” and cuts him off. i just KNOW george would be so offended cause why would you do that?? i’m supposed to help you why would you do that

ugh yes eve. i love when they're messy it's too good too perfect. okay let's say free practice because i imagine that they have like clear cut rules about arguing during quali especially. and during races they keep it to arguing about race strategy only no petty disagreements allowed😭 but free practice is a free for all and reader takes full advantage of that.

like please they've just had a weird fight/argument where nothing has actually been said, but george is bothered by her pr boyfriend hanging around hospitality and she's annoyed having to pretend she likes her pr boyfriend. and when she gets in the car they're not making eye contact or doing any of their standard pre track rituals. so everyone can tell somethings up😭

and hmm okay, not gonna write a full drabble but here's a little bit of something. not exactly exactly what u were saying because i didn't want to just repeat it. hope u like it tho🥰

The car is shit. The car is so shit.

The wheel is pulling whenever you take a corner and you feel like you're on a roller coaster with the way it's rattling. At this point, it feels like the floor might just drop out from under you. Land on the track and cause a red flag.

You wouldn't be surprised, honestly. It might even be helpful, might stop the rest of the grid from getting valuable practice time in⏤

You veer into the gravel as you take a corner, swear loudly to yourself and force the car back onto asphalt. It takes far more effort than it should, you're fighting the car. It shouldn't be like this. It should glide. It should be smooth. It has been smooth.

You're not sure what's going on.

The garage need to know... George needs to know.

Ugh. George.

Plainly, you're annoyed at him.

George and his loaded looks and pointed comments about safety and that head of prince curls and a line of straight white teeth⏤ okay, you're not supposed to be letting your thoughts go there⏤ it's just difficult to stop them, even if he's being a total arse about your not-boyfriend. Who the fuck is George to say that you're not allowed personal guests? You're the driver! He's your engineer.

Derek can go wherever he pleases as far as you're concerned. Just as long as it's not too close to you.

The car pulls. You swear.

The radio crackles, startling you just as you get the car off gravel.

"Verstappen says you were impeding."

You laugh, sharp, short, humourless at the sound of George's clipped voice, at the irony of you impeding anyone but yourself right now, "Impeding. Ha! Good one."

"It was through turn⏤"

"The car's a piece of shit," you bite, cutting him off, "I can't get it out of the gravel, never mind stop myself from impeding Verstappen."

"Keep that off the radio," he scolds.

You roll your eyes, wrangle a turn like you're wrangling a wild bull, then snap,

"Okay! No radio!", and lean forward, flick the switch to turn the radio firmly off.

It's stiff, unused. There's no rule per se that says you can't turn the radio off whenever you'd like to. But it's frowned upon. You're blind if there's an emergency, a red flag, if they want you into the pits where you're heading anyway. George will be angry. Spewing.

Good.

Exactly how you want him.

i need to make one of those radio graphics that u make for them omg. anyway thank u for this eve!! ur mind!!!!

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Wereroomies werewolf!chan reaction to his girl in a rabbit costume? I know that man will go insane

this ask wormed its way into my brain and made me write a drabble in record time. sorry if anything's worded weirdly, i was literally possessed while i wrote this whole thing.

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series). | Word Count: ~1k. | Warnings: Chris’ POV · curvy/chubby reader · primal play (can it be considered primal play when one of the parties involved is an animal already?) · breeding · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control].

minors do not interact.

It was rare for Chris to take you to his house in the woods on your own. Typically, the entire pack would come for their monthly run, but every once in a while he needed to come check on the place to make sure everything was in order–the amount of times he’d woken up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with the sudden thought that he didn’t turn off the lights before leaving during their last trip were too many to count at this point.

This weekend, Chris decided to take you out on a little escapade, just the two of you in his big house. You both had been working nonstop the last couple of weeks, between that and pack duties you’d hardly had any time for yourselves as a couple, so he was more than needing his alone time with you, to disconnect from everything and everyone else.

So here he was, doing the final checks on the house to make sure everything was fine before he could finally join you wherever you were in the house to lounge around and snuggle and hopefully have some delightful sex later in the evening.

“Baby, have you seen the–the…”

Walking into the living room, and seeing you all of a sudden like that, sitting on the dining table of all places, was something Chris did not expect. His mind short-circuited immediately, and the fact that you had the nerve to gasp and act surprised as soon as you spotted him wasn’t making it any better.

“Oh, my… Seems like I’ve found myself in the wolf’s lair. What am I gonna do now…” You brought your hands to your cheeks, which only squished your breasts further together, all garnished with the fakest look of concern he’d ever seen on your face.

That bra was barely even a bra, it was just a couple of pieces of fabric tied around your neck by thin straps, it did absolutely nothing to keep your breasts contained. It was white, too, practically transparent. The bottoms weren’t much better, also a barely even there piece of fabric that did incredibly poorly at covering your plump centre. But the worst pieces of all were the white and pink suspender belt, with the matching stockings over your mouth-watering thighs, and the goddamned bunny ears on your head.

Something stirred deep inside of Chris, something just so incredibly dangerous, something he just knew was exactly what you wanted to awake with this entire set-up of yours.

Prey, prey, prey, prey, prey…

What kind of boyfriend would he be if he denied you of your fun? So of course he played along. 

“Aww, poor little bunny got lost?” Chris cooed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on the door frame, staring you up and down.

You bit your lip, nodding. “You’re not gonna do anything bad to me, right?”

Chris took a deep breath, and he got almost winded by the scent of your arousal lingering in the air. “Well… That depends, pretty bunny…”

“On?”

A smirk made its way onto his face, and Chris could already feel himself straining in his briefs. “On how fast you can run away from me”.

You bit your lip and whimpered, looking almost scared. 

There was a moment of you staring at him, and Chris staring at you… A moment of silence that fed the tension in the air. In an instant, you were getting off of that table and bolting out of the room, letting him see the fluffy tail attached to your bottoms, and he could feel the fine hairs on his nape stand on end.

Chase, chase, chase, chase, chase…

Chris immediately ripped his t-shirt off of his body and chased after you. He was suddenly feeling incredibly warm, and he could feel his instincts further clouding his reason as he looked at your form trying to get out of his reach.

He let you off easy for a few minutes, revelling in the deep breaths you took, in the way your heart was racing inside your chest, and in the smell of your scent taking a hold of every single one of his nerve-endings. Until he just couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to catch you, to show you your place and make you submit.

After a while of running and hiding around the house, Chris finally caught up to you on the upper floor, right after climbing the stairs–his shorts had been discarded at some point during the chase, he didn’t even notice when he’d removed them, and he, honestly, also didn’t care.

With a tight hold on your waist he pushed you against the nearest wall. He would’ve felt bad by hearing the whimper that came out of your mouth as soon as your back hit the wall, but, at this point, he knew your limits, he knew how to read your body language, he knew the exact word you would use if it all became too much for you, and, especially, he knew when you were putting on an act. 

With a hand cradling the back of your head, he tilted it to the side, making himself more room to shove his face in the crook of your neck, to prod at your pulse point with the tip of his nose and get a proper whiff of that scent of yours that made him delirious, especially now with how horny you smelt, with his senses enhanced by the chase.

“What now, bunny?” Chris mumbled. He licked a stripe up the expanse of your neck, relishing the taste of your skin under his tongue, and he felt you shiver with the motion.

You swallowed, taking a deep breath. “What are you gonna do to me? I’m just a poor, innocent bunny that got lost…”

“Are you, now?” Chris brought his free hand to the ears on your head, feeling the soft fur between his fingers for a moment, only to finally move that hand to your side so he could drag it all the way from your ribs down to your hips, relishing the goosebumps that rose under his touch. “And what was a pretty bunny like you looking for so insistently you ended up lost in my lair?”

“A partner”, you replied simply, although your voice got a bit shaky when he started to toy with the string that tied your underwear in place. “I just…need to be bred so badly”.

Chris could’ve fainted with how fast blood rushed from his head to his crotch.

“Oh, sweet, sweet, bunny”, he dragged his teeth down the length of your neck, until he finally found a spot to suck the first of many love bites he was ready to leave on your skin. “I can give you exactly what you want… I’ll pump you so full, pretty. Just how you need”.

“You will?” You reached for his hips, and the warmth of your hands on his bare skin was further feeding that pool of desire in the pit of his stomach. “Is the big, alpha wolf going to put his pups inside me?”

God, he might’ve been the predator, but you certainly always had the upper hand, and Chris knew you were aware of it. You always knew what to say to get him to react, to get exactly what you wanted, and he was ready to fall for it every single time.

Chris leaned in closer, close enough he could feel your lips brush against his own when he spoke. “Only if you ask nicely”.

You moved your hands from his hips to his ass, squeezing generously. “Please… Please, I need your pups so bad. Please, breed me, alph–”

A squeal left your lips when Chris took a hold of your hips and turned you around all of a sudden. He just couldn’t take it anymore, not after all that had transpired since he spotted you on that table downstairs.

With a hand on your upper back, he pressed your chest further into the wall as you pushed your hips back towards him, giving him the delicious sight of your round bottom in that barely there piece of underwear with the fluffy tail, and the way your soft flesh dipped under the taut straps of your suspender belt that held the stockings on your legs almost made him dizzy.

Chris spat on his free hand and smeared the saliva all over his length. Pulling your underwear to the side, he got a perfect view of your soaked folds. Clearly, all the running around had been a good warm up for you, too, and he was almost trembling in anticipation.

In normal circumstances, he would’ve probably stretched you out first, even loosen you up with his mouth and his tongue. But these were no normal circumstances. He could barely think straight at this point, all he knew for sure was that he needed to be inside of you and give you the pounding of your life.

Breed, breed, breed, breed, breed…

You whined once he started to push his cock inside you. The feeling of your warm, wet, tight walls stretching over his length had him rolling his eyes to the back of his head. He might’ve worried he was hurting you, but he knew by now that when you reached back for his hip like you were doing now, almost like you were urging him to ram himself into you already, it meant you were doing just fine, so there wasn’t a single spark of worry in his hazy mind just yet.

As soon as he was fully sheathed within your warmth, he nuzzled your neck, holding the soft skin of your hips tightly in his hands. “Don’t worry, pretty bunny. I’ll give you what you need. All of it”.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know !

@raspbinniecreme · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @phobia0325 · @leebitsimpracha

[lightseoul]

YOU'RE MY MUSE (THAT YOU ARE)

welcome to lightseoul's 2k milestone event! to commemorate our small albeit growing community, i'm hosting a drabble game centering on our one and only bakugou katsuki <3

the rules are simple: below is a numbered list of prompts based on which i will write short bakugou x reader drabbles! simply send an ask with your chosen number, and i'll whip something up!

in all seriousness, thank you to you beautiful humans for reading my silly little pieces. hearing from y'all brings me such joy, and i can only hope my writing gives you even just a fraction of that :,)

© credits to @creativepromptsforwriting for all 30 genius prompts!

“Don’t say another word.” (coming soon)

“This is not practical at all.” (coming soon)

“Thank you, I really hate it.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“I’m not leaving so get used to me.”

“Just stating the facts.” (coming soon)

“The ghosts would disagree with you.”

“We should have been in bed 3 hours ago.” (coming soon)

“Why won’t you let me braid your hair?” (coming soon)

“Just five more minutes.” (coming soon)

“Is that my shirt?”

“I could use a hug right now.”

“You do know that we’re in public, right?”

“Would you just shut up please?” (coming soon)

“Are you traveling alone?”

“I want to go home to my wife.”

“Did you buy me flowers?”

“How long were you standing there?” (coming soon)

“I feel dirty.” (coming soon)

“This is such a waste of time.”

“Can you feel this?” (coming soon)

“Are you single?”

“Is there a law against that?” (coming soon)

“There you are.”

“Really wish you were here.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” (coming soon)

“Still hard at work?”

“You should sue them.” (coming soon)

“I need this to work.”

“We share the same name!"

looking forward to playing with y'all! - zee

[orcelito]

Ok. Heck. I reread Sentido chapter 1 and I can understand why ppl loved it so much

[bloodmoonmuses]

you want me so bad rn... | choi beomgyu

genre: beomgyu x reader, established relationship, fluff, drabble (600ish words)

summary: you and beomgyu go on a date to an aquarium, during which he leaves you more flustered than you anticipated.

warnings: the build up to the kiss gets a bit steamy, some suggestive language by my standards lol (but nothing explicit)

The bluish glow leaves a halo around Beomgyu’s face. It’s a random Thursday and the aquarium the two of you are at is practically empty. You admire him lovingly, warmed by his boyish infatuation with the twinkling fish. They refract like specs of glitter- orangey, yellow and gold in their flickering. 

Beomgyu’s a walking a paint palette. You think of the colors you’d use to render his beauty- if you were bestowed with such a skill. A wash of watercolor, bleeding and pooling into the grooves of sturdy paper… the faintest of blues. Warm gray, like the clouds that hung in the sky the day you met him. Chestnut-y browns as a final touch- like his eyes, his hair, his guitar. You wish you had brought a camera, to immortalize the joy radiating off of him, but you’re left to rely on your faulty eyes (and memory).

“You’re staring,” says Beomgyu as he reads the placard next to the fishtank. Golden Dwarf, Tiger and Cherry Barbs. Schooling fish. They’re not to be in groups less than six. 

“Can’t help it,” you simply say. 

You’re certain the amazement in your eyes as you look at him parallels Beomgyu’s intrigue with the fish. It’s funny really; for a guy in such a glitzy career, he’s easily impressed. Beomgyu is also very contemplative. You liked watching him think, his brows furrowing and relaxing over and over again, or when he scrunches his nose. He does the latter right now, and you’re overcome with the urge to kiss it. Realizing you possess the privilege to do so, you reach over to take Beomgyu’s face in your hands. Instead of moving immediately, you linger there, drinking up his delicate features. 

“Like what you see?” Beomgyu quirks an eyebrow, in that goofy way he does. He’s never serious, save for the purpose of expediting your impending demise (also known as making you fall in love with him). You answer him with the kiss you so desperately yearn for, barely touching your lips to the tip of his nose. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says. Then, Beomgyu pulls you into an embrace. 

The fish tanks murmur in the background, the running water almost mimicking rainfall. Fluorescent lights sift through the glass creating wavy lines that dance on the wall. You could stay like this forever. 

Beomgyu tilts your chin upward, fingertips grazing your skin just slightly. The touch is hypnotizing, clearing your mind of any coherent thoughts. All you can think of is Beomgyu. Beomgyu, who was born in spring. Beomgyu, who writes hushed ballads as dusk burns into dawn. Beomgyu, who loves you in his own way- patiently and attentively. His breath fans over your lips. Your face twitches for his touch, but all you can do is stand there. You’re frozen. It feels as though if you move, you’ll break into a million pieces. You silently beg him to move. 

Beomgyu likes to tease you in this way, though he’d never admit it. He likes to see how quickly you get flustered and how intensely you crave his touch. A few times, he pretends to lean in, watching how you crane your neck. When he does this a third time, you sigh exasperatedly. 

“Would you like me to kiss you?” he asks with a coy lilt. You nod feverishly. Beomgyu stifles a laugh. “Didn’t catch that.”

“Yes, please,” you manage to whisper. When he finally does kiss you, you’re somehow even more breathless. If only you could be outside of your body- you’d paint this too. Vermillion to render the blush that’s probably dusting Beomgyu’s cheeks, pink to match the tinge on your ears, green to commemorate how evergreen your love will remain. You deepen the kiss, moving impossibly closer to one another. When the two of you come up for air, chests heaving as if you’d ran a marathon, Beomgyu laughs.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“Oh… you want me so bad right now!” he teases. 

“Whatever!” You hit his forearm, covering your embarrassed face with your other hand. 

a/n: feedback is always appreciated! <333

[novasintheroom]

050. Impress

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.9k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description: Vash catches you drawing in your journal.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

It’s a hobby, you tell yourself. Plenty of people do it.

In the shade of the overhang, you glance over your book and scratch a few more lines down the page. A curve here, some dots there. You bite your tongue gently. It’s getting better. Marginally. And Vash is none-the-wiser to being observed.

He’s slowly taking apart and cleaning his gun. Rubbing a cloth along each piece, careful of where he puts things on the flat rock he’s taken as a ‘table.’ Vash is scrunched up now, making an interesting pose to note down in your journal.

Next to the drawing, you sketch out some lines and notes on his anatomy. Triceps, you write. Brachioradialis. Palmaris longus. You trail down to his legs. Vastus medialis. Gastrocnemius. Back up to his chest. Pectoralis major. Subtly, you put a heart by the name.

“Watcha drawin’?”

So much for subtlety. How did he sneak up on you? Faster than Vash has time to blink, your book slams closed. He’s left with a waft of air blowing in his face and a wide-eyed stare from you. From your side, he lifts his hands placatingly. “Woah, I didn’t see anything.”

Still, blood rushes to your face and you purse your lips, giving him a searching look. “Liar. What did you see?”

Vash’s smile is gentle. Always gentle. “Nothing, really.” Then, that smile turns mischievous. “I didn’t know you drew naughty pictures.”

You splutter. What? “I do not!”

“It’s okay, really!” He waves his hands and walks over to his bag. “Everyone’s into something. Why else would you panic like that?”

The blush has reached the back of your throat. You cough, sucking in air to protest. “I don’t draw naughty pictures!”

He looks over with a smirk, putting his gun back together without looking. “Sure. And I have both my arms.”

“I don’t!” Not only mortified by the suggestion, you’re blatantly outraged he doesn’t believe you. Only one way to rectify this. You stand from your rock and march over to him. Flipping open the book, you shove it in his face. “See! I’m practicing anatomy!”

Vash’s look goes slack, and with care, he takes the book from your hands. You realize he was teasing you too late. He sees your drawings. He sees them. You’re suddenly nervous again, feeling like a child caught doing something wrong. It’s fine, you think, it’s fine, fine, fine.

Vash takes his time looking over your drawings. It’s of him, obviously. Chest bared, missing the scars and wires and plates he feels on the daily pulling at his skin. You don’t know about them. How could you? He never lets you see. But you are studying anatomy. He sees the scientific terms criss-crossing the page in your neat handwriting. On the next page, he sees you’ve sketched him in different poses; some of him crouched as if over a fire, some jumping in mid-air, coat floating wildly behind him. One is just of his face, his smile. The eyes are a little crooked, but it’s impressive, even still.

He sees your hands worrying out of the corner of his eye. Cracking your knuckles. You do it when you’re nervous. “I only have you around to draw,” you explain, trying to save yourself from more embarrassment. Vash hums, and you duck your head. “It’s…an old hobby of mine.”

The next page are close-ups. Hands, feet, mouth, eyes. You have no coloring pencils; everything is shaded charcoal black-and-gray. In the margins, you’ve drawn different worms you’ve come across, with beaks and bug-eyes and many legs. But overall, he’s the subject. He’s the one you’re drawing the most. A strange feeling settles in his chest, and with a slight grin, he hands the book back.

You take it, watching him, wary. “So…?”

Vash shakes his head. “These are really good!”

Your look is dubious. “You aren’t…weirded out?”

Weirded out? Why would he be? He’s never been the subject of someone’s drawings. It makes him feel…he doesn’t know, searching for the word. “No,” he says, “I’m – flattered,” he finally puts a name to the feeling, and his cheeks pinken.

You look down, gnawing at your inner cheek. “It’s something I started doing a few months back. Just…drawing your poses whenever we have downtime.” Finally, a smile breaks on your lips. “You’re very limber.”

Vash laughs. “It’s all the yoga I do.” He reaches up and tugs at the back of his neck. He feels a bit shy, but asks, “Can I watch you draw sometime?”

Your mouth falls open. “Um…sure?”

He kicks at a nearby pebble. “I’m not the best at drawing. But I like to do it too. In my journals, sometimes.”

You perk up. “You do? Of what?”

“Mainly architecture. I tried people a few times, but they���they look like they’re melting.”

You laugh, and he laughs with you.

And later, in the firelight and lamps of your camp, you and he draw together. He practices drawing your face (and it does look like it’s melting, much to his chagrin and your laughter), and you sketch architecture, blown away and inspired by the detailed drawings of derelict ships and abandoned towns and cities Vash has been to in his journals. You trade art secrets, tips, and switch journals with each other to draw in for a page.

You both go to bed with stained fingertips and smiles, happy to have one more thing to bring you together.

[tired-biscuit]

I know you haven't written a lot for Spiderverse at all, but I have to say I love your portrayal of Miguel! And your little drabble about being Kiba's service-sub housewife got me thinking, do you think Miguel would like a service-sub housewife, too? I know you're mostly a Naruto blog but I can't help finding myself loving the few Miguel pieces you've done, your writing is incredible 💜

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: free use, somnophilia, cockwarming. established relationship.

↳ thanks a bunch, your message was so sweet! definitely made me smile really big. here’s some husband miguel rocking both your world and your pussy.

i think he would, though you’d definitely have to be the one to suggest it first.

while i do see miguel as a naturally dominant sort of man who loves staying in control in just about every aspect, he also comes across as very reserved and is thus rarely willing to let himself completely loose; even in bed. so it’d take some time for him to get used to the fact that you’d be literally offering yourself to him and would be giving him a free pass whenever he’d as much as think of desiring it.

he just seem to be very respectful towards the people he admires and loves, you know? he thinks that fucking you hard and quick in random places just because his blood runs hot all of a sudden is beneath what you deserve.

he’s gloomy and dark, and you’re pure light in his eyes because his heart has switched places with his brain ever since he’s fallen in love and has placed that ring on your finger. he doesn’t want to blemish all your purity and goodness, even if that wouldn’t be the case at all.

so even if you’d initiate it first and would get him going with the help of some lovey-dovey looks, the fluttering of your eyelashes, and some strokes to his broad chest and shoulders, he’d second guess the entire thing and would constantly be making sure if it really is all right like you say it is.

you’d literally have to be throwing yourself at him, telling him to just use you already, for him to actually do something. it’d go slow, but eventually he’d ease himself into the idea.

you can be very tempting when you want to be, and at the end of the day, he is nothing but a man.

the first time it happens, he’s working late for the fourth day in a row and is feeling terribly lonely and frustrated because of it. he misses you in more ways than one and you’re always asleep when he comes home, so he warily makes the decision to fuck you in his lab one night when you swing by to bring him dinner — knowing him, he hasn’t eaten since he left the house this morning — and bends you over at the middle on the first flat surface he sees.

the sex is cautious and he’s stiff as a board during the entirety of it; you can literally tell that he’s way too deep in his head about it and is calculating every single movement. he watches you like a hawk from the moment his big, calloused hands slip underneath your light sundress and hike it up to your waist.

he’s practically waiting to hear you say stop — even when he carefully pushes your panties to the side and sinks balls deep into your cunt with a little help of some spit and a couple of strokes to your clit. even as lewd, wet sounds resonate throughout the room, then, and mix with your panting and his grunts. he waits.

but you never say the word.

that’s the whole point of it, after all.

instead, your palms slam flat against the desk he’s got you bending over at. your toes wiggle in your shoes as you find better footing when he really starts to get into it and turns rough as a result. your hips press closer to his own and your back arches ever so slightly, allowing you to take his fat cock even deeper. you ready yourself; ready yourself to please your husband like the good little wife that you are.

after that night, miguel allows himself to take a little more from you each time.

he still comes home late on most days, but he uses the chance to catch up by gently and almost hesitantly nudging your tight hole with his cock while you’re still asleep; until your pussy is literally drooling and you’re waking up in your bed feeling all hot and sweaty because of how tight, borderline suffocating his embrace has become, and how intense the stretch that you feel between your legs is getting.

sometimes he comes to see you after a successful mission and fucks you against the wall of the first secluded spot he can find. he’s still covered in grime and sweat, there’s piping hot adrenaline still coursing his veins, and his hair is as wild as the look in his dark eyes — now where the hell has his mask gone? — but he doesn’t care about any of that.

because goddamn, your legs are wrapped around his waist and you’re doing that cute ‘o’ face that he likes oh, so fucking much as you struggle to breathe properly, and your pussy is just so tight whenever he bullies his way inside of you so unexpectedly like this. he can literally feel it squeezing around him, trying to milk him dry of very last drop of cum he’s able to produce.

other times, usually when he takes it a bit easy work-wise, he just rests at home by making you cockwarm him. he’s watching TV — something exceptionally boring, probably — or is looking something up on the computer, and you’re just sitting on his lap, whining about how his cock has been outright kissing your cervix from the second he saw you passing by dressed in nothing else but his t-shirt.

he even nips at your neck whenever you try to move, deadly fangs sliding across the tender skin. it just makes you even more wet; it’s just so good.

so yeah, i do think that he’d like the idea of free use and would even grow fond of it the more you’d both indulge it. it’d be some sort of stress relief in a way. also, he would never, never belittle you or shame you for it. you’re the perfect wife.

when he loves, he just truly loves, you know? it’s deep and unshakeable. every time he ‘uses’ you, he makes sure to make up for it afterwards. he’s just that kind of guy, even if he may not look like it at first glance.

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: You were simply the nanny. How you ended up here, you couldn’t explain. Pairing: Seonghwa x fem!reader Tropes: dilf au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, age gap Smut Warnings: dirty talk, degradation, impact play, daddy kink, rough sex, unprotected sex Word Count: 435 Note: for the Tarot Card Drabble Event Requested by: @smallfrye​

The Hanged Man ➾ different, distinctive, unforgettable sex

“Look at you, sweetheart.” Seonghwa chuckles from behind you, running his fingers through your arousal, “Who would’ve thought the nanny could be such a filthy whore.”

“Please, just want you that’s all.” you pant trying to push back into his touch.

He cracks his hand down against your ass, making you whimper at the sudden sting, “Who are you talking to like that?”

“Want you so bad, please, Daddy. I’ll be good.” you practically whine.

A chuckle resonates from his lips follows by a sadistic smirk. You have your face buried in the sheets in hopes of maintaining the last threads of sanity you have. That all goes out the window though the moment Seonghwa flips you on your back and pins your arms above your head. The sight of him alone could have you spontaneously orgasm in moments. The small bits of grey that are starting to invade his dark locks make you grow even more desperate for the older man. The way he raises his eyebrow at you, almost challenging you to run your mouth again. He grinds his bare cock against your soaked cunt, groaning at the feeling.

“Seonghwa if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear-”

“You swear what?” he growls, “You think boys your age can fuck you like I can?”

You don’t respond. You turn your head to the side, breaking the eye contact you were previously holding with him. Seonghwa isn’t having that though. He takes his free hand and grabs ahold of your jaw. The eyes you’re met with are even darker than before.

“Answer the damn question.”

“N- no.”

He raises an eyebrow at you.

“No Daddy.” you correct yourself, “Boys my age don’t know how to please me. Only daddy does.”

“There’s my good girl,” he smirks.

Without a warning, he pushes himself into you and starts fucking you at a brutal pace. Eventually, he lets go of your hands, and you immediately let them fly to his shoulders. Your nails claw into his skin hoping to ground yourself again. Seonghwa groans filthy words in your ear which only serve to make the orgasm bubbling up inside you even more intense.

“Daddy, you take such good fucking care of me.” you moan.

He chuckles, “Is that so, darling? You know, it takes a real naughty girl to come to find me to get fucked while my child is napping just a few doors away. I guess you’re just a naughty little thing aren’t you?”

“Y- fuck yes, Daddy.” you moan again.

“I best take care of my naughty brat before you wake them up, hm?”

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