#or drabble

[2knightt]

hey guys someone should put into my event a songfic with church by chase atlantic so i can make dallas fall in love with a church girl and make him use it against her thanks

[emerald-onion]

Idea Given Form (Discarded Drabble)

The moment Dream opens his eyes, he immediately knows that this is a dream.

For one, he still remembers the softness of his mattress, the way it dips under his body as his consciousness unravels beneath the heavy weight of exhaustion. For another, as the Guardian of Positivity, Dream has visited a numerous number of alternate universes, and yet none of them looks even remotely close to this one.

The sky is a vast ocean that stretches from the inky shore to the hungry skyline, filling up with twinkling constellations. One particular playful shooting star zips through the endless void, trailing the faint smell of stardust in its footsteps. A heavy and enormous planet hangs overhead, and from there, he can see the flickering silhouettes of long-forgotten cities, of crumbling skyscrapers and barren wastelands.

Dream marvels at the sight in front of him. It is so beautiful, and at the same time, so haunting, as if he is cutting open time itself and peering through the gaping wound of reality.

Shaking away the thought, he starts to walk, admiring the many islands that lazily drift through the unending Cosmo, each one of them seems to be a universe of its own. One has been overgrown with vegetation, wisps of green gently dancing in the wind, another lay domain to slumbering mountains, looming over everything else like an ancient beast.

In all of his awe, the Guardian bumps against a piece of stray rubble, the force nearly sends him tumbling on his pelvis. Rubbing his sore nasal cavity, Dream grumbles, ducking under the floating rock-

And then he sees it.

A towering tree woven from human arms, forever grasping for something unreachable. If Dream thought the mountains were big, this... thing, it can crush all of them in its grip. The skin is scrawling with black tattoos, indecipherable language in indecipherable patterns. Hundreds, thousands, millions of eyes blink in slow discordance as they quietly weep rainbow ichor.

It is something out of this world, unfathomable, incomprehensible, something never meant for a mortal’s eyes.

Dream can’t help it. He gasps.

Wrong move.

At the foreign sound, all of the entity’s eyes synthetically snap toward him, peering at the small, insignificant mortal who dares to intrude on its home. The Guardian sucks in a sharp breath, taking a shaky step back, only for his spine to hit the rubble he bumped into just earlier.

There is a rumbling sound that shakes the whole island, and when Dream realizes it, a lone hand has detached itself from its coiling mass, leaving trails of dripping rainbow strings. He barely catches the sight of an entire galaxy stuffed inside that gigantic body before he is snatched from the ground, any form of thrashing or struggling completely useless against the fingers that are doubled his size.

This, he thinks, is the strangest dream I have ever had.

Getting stuck in an unfamiliar universe? Being killed by an eldritch monster made of human hands? Dream would laugh if his being isn’t struck with an overwhelming fear, the bone-deep terror that brushes its icy touch against his SOUL, leaving him paralyzed.

Completely powerless, Dream has no choice but to squeeze his eye sockets shut and wait for the inevitable end.

Except-

Except... Nothing happens.

Cautiously, he opens his eye sockets. The entity doesn’t hurt him, doesn’t grind his skeletal body into paste or fling him so far he will instantly turn to dust the moment the Guardian touches the floor. Instead, those many eyes seem to... sparkle?

Another hand lifts, moving toward him, and he instinctively jerks back. But if the entity has any harmful intentions, Dream cannot find any of them because at the moment, the only thing he can focus on is those gentle, caring strokes against his spine. Blink, and suddenly, the inky tattoos have shifted, surrounding him like over-hyper toddlers.

“Uhhhhhhh,” he mumbles, more confused than ever. “What...?”

HI!

Dream flinches. The sound seems to come from his own mind, echoing inside the confine of his skull. Fortunately, the entity doesn’t notice anything, too busy vibrating with excitement.

YOU <FRIEND, GUARDIAN, POSITIVITY> ARE FINALLY HERE <LOVE, JOY>! YOU <FRIEND, GUARDIAN, POSITIVITY> HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I <GUARDIAN, CREATION> HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU <FRIEND, SLOW-POKE, GUARDIAN, POSITIVITY>!

It has?

No, wait, the voice is familiar. Very familiar. Dream has heard it before. But where...?

A puzzle piece clicks into place.

“Ink?!”

THAT’S ME <BESTEST-FRIEND-EVER, KIN, GUARDIAN, CREATION>! The entity, Ink, beams.

“But... How...?” He sputters. “Why do you look like that?”

<CONFUSION> LIKE WHAT?

“Like that!” Dream gestures sharply at the towering mass that is his friend. “Last time I checked, you are a skeleton, not some eldritch horror of unfathomable power.”

Ink lets out a gasp of realization.

YOU <FRIEND, GUARDIAN, POSITIVITY> DIDN’T KNOW?

Know what? Dream tries to say, but Ink has already continued.

SILLY ME <IDIOT, FORGETFUL, GUARDIAN, CREATION>, OF COURSE YOU <FRIEND, GUARDIAN, POSITIVITY> DIDN’T KNOW! UNLIKE ME <VOID-BORN, GUARDIAN, CREATION>, YOU <VOID-FORMED, GUARDIAN, POSITIVITY> WEREN’T BORN A GUARDIAN <CHILD-OF-VOID, IDEA-GIVEN-FORM>!

“Ink,” Dream struggles to catch the jumbled mess of his friend’s thoughts. “Ink, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The millions of eyes blink, clearly gearing for another ramble, only to freeze when the world flickers around them.

OH DEAR <SADNESS, GUILT, REGRET>, IT IS TIME TO SAY GOODBYE.

“Time to-?” He scrambles to interrupt the Creator, as if it would stop the way everything slowly melts into colors around him. “No! Wait!”

SEE YOU <BEST FRIEND, FAMILY, LOVE-YOU-DEARLY> SOON, DREAMBOAT!

A splash, a faint sense of loss, the smell of freshly-painted canvas.

And Dream wakes up.

[laurasimonsdaughter]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kashverse]

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

your cat blinks at him slowly. the audacity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your cat’s ears twitch. a clear tell.

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

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

you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

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

your cat sneezes.

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

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

excuse me again???

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

he stares after it, jaw clenched, eye twitching.

“…i’m gonna eat it.”

you finally lose the battle against your laughter.

[chelliebelle]

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

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

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

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

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

[tojis-girl]

fratboy!satoru dating nerd!reader was an odd mix. you two never really liked the same things - there was one thing you both liked though and that was libraries. separate reasons though.

fratboy!satoru mumbled into your ear - telling you that you were a good girl and were doing so soo well for him!

fratboy!satoru whos large hand made its way up and down your thigh, comforting you while you wrote something down in your note pad.

nerd!readers who cunt was warming up fratboy!satoru dick, your warmth making his tip dribble out cum. your sat on him innocently but underneath the skirt you wore was anything but innocent.

you whine when you feel his dick twitch inside of you but he just tells you to continue with your notes.

fratboy!satoru who finds it interesting how your constantly reading and writing but the moment a dick enters you - you wanna do anything but!

fratboy!satoru who tells you to shut up, harshly digging his nails into your plush thigh as a punishment when your mewls grow to be a little too loud.

he doesnt want anyone else to hear the pretty sounds you make!

"Shut up, princess, or itll be even worse later."

[naomigojo]

“she’ll have your eyes.”

your brows quirk up. “she?”

satoru hums, his large hand rubbing your swollen belly, growing with the life the both of you created together.

“how could you be so sure?”, you murmur inquisitively, fingers gently tugging at strands of arctic white.

your husband chuckles softly at your question, pulling you onto his lap as if you were a delicate thing made of glass, hands resting on your thighs.

his cerulean blue eyes dart down towards your stomach, rubbing the bump affectionately.

“i just am.”

“uh huh,” you sound with an undertone of disbelief. “and i’m assuming your six eyes must’ve shown you, oh great and powerful sorcerer?”

satoru snorts at your sarcastic response, pinching the flesh of your inner thigh gently for your cheekiness. you pout, and his eyes glimmer with amusement.

“maybe it did. maybe it showed me a cute little girl with your eyes and my hair. who knows?”

“hm…well, is that what you want? a girl?”, you fiddle with the collar of his uniform he neglected changing out of, opting to fall straight into your arms the moment he walked through the door.

your husband shrugs, his hands resting on your hips now, giving them a light squeeze. his sights don’t stray for a single moment from your pregnant tummy, caught up in imagining a tiny version of you inside, his heart fluttering with love and excitement.

“don’t care. as long as it’s ours.”

[classyrbf]

you find it so funny how people think your husband, nanami, is the sweetest, most innocent and romantic man they’ve ever laid eyes on, such a gentleman. Which, they are correct in some ways. Gentleman. Check. Sweet. Check. Romantic. Check. He’s always buying you flowers, opening doors for you, kissing your hand, taking you out on spontaneous dates, calling you ‘sweetheart’, ‘honey’, ‘love’, and treating you like some porcelain doll. But innocent? Oh no, no. You almost laugh because it may seem like your husband is ‘innocent’ or ‘vanilla’ whichever term they may use, but he is anything but that. While he may treat you like a princess in public, he absolutely sluts you out behind closed doors.

You don’t blame people for thinking he may look and act soft because that was your first impression of him too. So, imagine the surprise when you first had sex and he was pounding you in a mating press, tears streaming down your face. Yeah, best night of your life. And now that you’re married? God, it makes the sex one hundreds times better than before. He’s go you on your side, one arm hooked under your leg, reaching so far that he’s able to wrap his hand around your throat. The other wrapped around your waist, rubbing your clit while he fucks his cum into you. He’s forcing you to look him in the eyes, faces inches away from each other, because he wants to watch your pretty face when you cum. So innocent, right?

“Oh my god! Fuck!” You cry out, your breathing labored. He’s so deep inside of you, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot over and over again to the point it makes your head spin especially when he’s toying with your swollen clit. “I can’t! I can’t, Ken! You’re too fucking deep! Ah!” You grip onto the ruffled sheets below, bucking your hips as you attempt to make his cock not feel so good, but the bruising grip he has on your throat and waist puts you right back in your place.

“You can take it, sweetheart. I know you can. You know why?” He pulls you in closer, pressing his lips to your ear. “Cause you’re a fucking slut for this dick.” He thrusts his hips faster, skin slapping against skin and the mixture of your juices and his cum create a sticky mess between your thighs. “Awe, is that gonna make you cum? Being degraded? I can feel your pussy clenching me,” he darkly smiled, heavy breaths fanning against your damp skin. He rubbed your clit faster, carefully watching the way you threw your head back in pure bliss.

“Fuckkkk! You’re gonna make me cum again!” Your toes curled the closer you got to your orgasm, whimpering as you took in every feeling of pleasure coursing through you.

“Squirt all over this dick, baby. Be a good girl for me and show me how good I make you feel.” He felt your walls tightening with each passing second, sweat trailing down his forehead as he kept his pace. Your legs began to shake as you writhed under him, cursing and screaming as you squirted all over, soaking the blankets below you. “Messy fucking slut. Look at you, you’re still fucking going.”

“Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!” Your brows furrowed as you watched him fuck you through your orgasm. “It’s too much, Ken!” You pulled his hand away from your clit, holding onto his wrist tightly while he slowed down his thrusts, now going deep and slow. You laid there in a dazed state, trying to catch your breath. His hand gently caressed your stomach slowly inching up towards your tits, cupping them in his hand while he placed sloppy kisses down your neck and to your collarbone.

So yes, while your husband may be such a gentleman, such a sweetheart, such an angel to others, in the back of your head, you think of those moments behind closed doors when he makes you cum your brains out, praising you and degrading you all within the same breath, choking you and treating you like some common whore. But after all that’s over, he’s back to treating you like the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. It’s truly the best of both worlds.

[rissouu]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ghostsanctity]

Simon had always known he was possessive, but this… this was something new. It all started during a rambling, half-drunk conversation with Soap, the kind they’d both forget by morning—except for one comment that had lodged itself in Simon’s mind like a splinter.

“Lass can’t forget you if she’s knocked up with your baby,” Soap had muttered with a lopsided grin, slurring just enough to make Simon dismiss it at first.

At first.

Simon knew you’d never forget him, no matter how long he was deployed. He trusted you, loved you in ways he couldn’t always put into words. But once the thought was planted, he couldn’t forget it. Maybe deep down it was the fear you’d leave or just the desire to know that you were fully his, round with his child, but whatever it was, when he got notified of an upcoming assignment, he knew he was gonna damn well try.

Which is how you ended up here now, pressed into the mattress beneath him, his broad chest blanketing your back as his lips dragged heatedly along your neck. He reaches around, pulling your body up enough for you to stabilise yourself as he roughly palms your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers as he continues to rut against you.

He's been at it for hours, fucking you with a relentless intensity, determined to fill you with every drop of his cum before he leaves. You’ve lost count at this point, never knowing he could go for so many repeated rounds but you certainly know it now as you feel his cum run down your thighs, the squelching noise every time he fucks back into you, a combination of your arousal and how many loads he’s given you so far tonight.

"Fuuck-" he groans, his voice low and gravelly with desire. "Gonna knock you up so good. Gonna make sure you're round with my baby by the time I get back."

He pulls out, his cock sliding from your well-fucked hole 

He stares down at your pussy, mesmerised by the sight of it dripping with his cum. He leans down, his face mere inches from it as his heated breath ghosts your folds. He watches, transfixed, as another thick spurt of his previous load oozes out of you.

"Fucking hell," he mutters, his breath hot against your skin. "Look at that. Look at what you do to me."

He reaches out, his fingers gently parting your swollen lips to get a better look. He teases your entrance, circling it slowly before scooping up some of the cum that's leaking out and guiding it back in with his middle and ring finger.

He pushes his fingers deeper, scissoring them to work his own cum back inside you. He wants to make sure every last drop takes.

"Gonna plug you up-" he growls, his voice rough with lust. "Keep you nice and full of me.”

He withdraws them, glistening with the thick, pearly fluid before bringing them up to your mouth, pressing his fingers against your lips.

"Go on-" he purrs as he slowly pushes his fingers into your mouth, letting you suck them clean. You can taste the saltiness of his cum mixed with the musky scent of your arousal. It's a heady combination that makes your head spin.

"Good girl," he praises, his voice rough with approval. "Such a good girl for me."

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, only to bring them back down to your pussy. He circles your clit with them, the slickness of his cum providing the perfect lubrication before he gestures for you to roll onto your back.

He straightens back up as he slides the head of his aching cock through your folds, nudging the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with shallow thrusts that do nothing to satisfy the ache inside you.

"Y’not going anywhere," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion. "Not after this- fuck -you’re not leaving me…You can’t–”

You could hear the subtle desperation in his words, a fear that you'd abandon him. He needed to know that you would be here, waiting for him, even when he was deployed.

He kisses desperately, trying to put every fiber of his being into this kiss, hoping to portray even a fraction of the strong love he felt for you. His hips start to move again, his cock sliding into you with a groan. He sets a slow, deep pace, each thrust deliberate and purposeful as he works himself in and out of you.

"Fuck, I love you," he grunts, the words torn from him. "Love you so fucking much…You're my everything, I swear I’ll never let you down-"

He wraps his arms around you, holding you as close as possible, fingers digging into your flesh as he impales you on his thick cock over and over again.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his forehead pressed against yours. "So fucking tight and wet for me. Always so ready for my cock, god you’re perfect-."

He adjusts his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts so that he's hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. Your back arches off the bed as your nails rake down his back and you moan wantonly.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes, his voice husky with desire. "Gonna' fill you up so good. Gotta make sure it takes before I leave-

His hips piston faster, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. He's getting close, you can tell by the way his muscles tense, the way his breath comes in short, sharp gasps.

"Gonna cum," he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Shit- fuck-”

He buries himself to the hilt, incoherent mutterings rolling off his tongue as his cock pulses, filling you with another thick load. He bites down on your shoulder to muffle his groans as you feel it, hot and heavy, painting your insides white. He collapses on top of you, all his weight heavy upon you, though you don't mind at all, arms wrapping tightly about him.

He stays buried inside of you, his now softening cock still buried deep within you. He rests his forehead against yours as his breath comes in short pants, trying to catch his breath.

"I meant what I said, you know…gonna' make you mine in every way possible," he murmurs, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he lifts some of his weight off of you. "Want you to have my baby- And when I come back, I'm gonna marry you because I’m completely yours and I want you to be fully mine, officially."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3

© ghostsanctity → do not copy or translate any of my works

[madaqueue]

18+ MDNI - f!reader (nasty freak boy who cums too early...i love him)

virgin!satoru who thinks he’s going to die. genuinely, he thinks his heart is about to explode out of his chest and his last memory will be the way you stare down at him with those lust-blown eyes and that awe-struck smile. why else would he be shaking like this, covered in a layer of sweat and lightheaded to the point his vision is swirling?

“are you ready, satoru?” is the only thing he can make out above the ringing in his ears - how can he tell you he only has a few moments to live when your legs are spread like this and he’s so hard it fucking hurts?

virgin!satoru who is the farthest fucking thing from ‘ready’ but he’d rather die than disappoint you, so he’s at least got to try.

with an unsteady hand he swipes the tip of his cock up and down your slit, watching the way the light sparkles with how wet you are, for him.

“you can put it in, baby,” and he fucking groans, he can barely look at you when you talk to him like that, all syrupy sweet and thick and dripping.

virgin!satoru who finally, finally, pushes himself past your entrance. his eyes are locked on the way you swallow his length, the way he’s so hot he can’t breathe, can’t get enough air in because it all smells like you.

virgin!satoru who cums before he even bottoms out. he’s trembling and whining and it only gets worse when your hands find his shoulders and pull him into you.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, fuck-”

“it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s so fucking warm, and he’s grateful he can’t see the smile on your face because he thinks it might actually make his heart stop.

virgin!satoru who straightens his back, slowly pulls his cock out of you and watches in awe as his cum leaks down your thighs, who can’t stop himself from smearing it through your folds with his thumb, who doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches as he does.

virgin!satoru who’s already hard again, who no longer cares if he’s dying because this must be heaven, who stares back at you with wild, unfocused eyes as he says, “i think…i think i’m ready now.”

a/n: i think i blacked out from lust writing this

[tojbnuy]

art by @ _3aem on twt!!

bestfriend!satoru who spam comments under all your posts and makes sure to let everyone know that he’s the one who took the pic

bestfriend!satoru who doesn’t ever let your read your books. he lays his head in your lap and demands you read aloud to him.

bestfriend!satoru who’s always kissing your cheeks to say hello and bye bye. sometimes they linger a bit too long but it’s only cos he finds you so cute .

bestfriend!satoru who talks suguru’s ears off about you. every detail about your outfit, the new shade of gloss you had on today, the way your ass looked absolutely perfect in those jeans. frankly suguru is sick of him.

bestfriend!satoru who sulks as soon as he finds out you’re going on a date. he’d lie on your bed with your plushies squished in between his biceps and whine about you being too pretty for this guy.

bestfriend!satoru who waits patiently for your return and can’t help but smile at your tipsy state. clearly date didn’t go too well. he helps you undress, fingers caressing the smooth silky skin of your back as he lets your dress fall.

bestfriend!satoru who gets mad when you say you’re fine to sit in sugurus lap since there aren’t any seats left in the car. he abruptly slams the car door in sugurus face and drags you over to his side. ‘come on baby you don’t sit in anyone’s lap but mine.’ and next thing you know your snug in his lap with his bulky arms wrapped tight around your waist. ‘just to keep you safe pretty.’

bestfriend!satoru who claims ‘one kiss won’t change anything’ and then he’s pressing his plush lips to yours. his tongue making its way into your mouth as his hands pet at the small of your back. ‘course it’s fine we’re best friends’

bestfriend!satoru who towers over you and always has a spare hoodie ready for you because he knows you never wrap up warm. truthfully he adores the way you look in his clothes, his hoodie reaching mid thigh on you and still you had miles of legs left on display. he’s always saying how much he loves your legs but he doesn’t think you know to what extent. plush thighs and a round ass that he had dreamt of far too many times.

bestfriend!satoru who knows it’s sick but everytime you nap in his room he picks you up and places you in his lap. just so he can feel your soft breasts pushed against him. his hands will wander until one of them is squeezing at your ass and the other is stroking the soft skin at your thighs. ‘sorry baby you’re just so pretty when you sleep’

bestfriend!satoru who peeks at you when you’re changing in his room. baby pink underwear with a little bow dotted right at the front.

part 2 !! part 3!! part 4 !!

[kashverse]

the first time it happens, sukuna doesn't even react.

your daughter, a tiny little thing with a head full of wild hair that looks just like his but with your color, storms up to him while he's adjusting his tie. she's got a determined look on her face, a plastic figurine clutched in her tiny hands—a sonny angel doll, of all things.

"papa, hold," she demands, her chubby fingers working to shove it into the breast pocket of his pristine, custom-made suit. he looks down at her, red eyes blinking slowly. then he looks at you, standing off to the side, barely holding back your laughter.

"what is this?" he asks flatly.

"sonny angel," your daughter says like it's obvious. "he's cute. for you."

you make a choked noise behind your hand, and sukuna exhales through his nose. his baby girl, his tiny menace, is standing there with all the confidence of someone who has never been told 'no' in her life. because, well. she hasn't. so what does he do? he lets her shove the damn thing in his pocket. adjusts it a little so it's sitting neatly, because if he's going to have a tiny cherub-faced baby figurine sticking out of his suit, it's at least going to look intentional.

"happy?" he asks.

his daughter beams at him, gives his pant leg a firm pat like he's done a good job, then scurries off to continue whatever other toddler nonsense she was up to before this. you’re wheezing in the corner.

"don't say a word," he warns, fixing his cuffs.

you grin. "i didn't say anything."

cut to his meeting later that day. sukuna walks in like he owns the place (because he does), radiating his usual aura of dominance and unrelenting authority. his executives are already seated, tense and ready, knowing full well that sukuna does not entertain idiocy. but today? today there is something new. today, nestled neatly in the breast pocket of his three-piece suit, is a tiny, plastic baby figurine wearing a duck hat.

the entire room freezes.

one poor soul, likely new and unaware of how the corporate hierarchy works under sukuna, makes the grave mistake of letting out the faintest, almost imperceptible snort.

sukuna turns his head very slowly.

"who the fuck just laughed?"

silence. absolute, suffocating silence. the man looks down at his notes as if they might save him from impending doom.

sukuna leans back in his chair, tapping a clawed finger against the conference table.

"anyone else got something to say about my sonny angel?"

no one breathes.

good.

he conducts the rest of the meeting as if nothing is out of place, occasionally adjusting the little doll in his pocket like it's just another part of his attire.

by the end of the week, rumors have spread. no one dares to question the sonny angel. entire powerpoint presentations are given with the utmost professionalism while a tiny, smiling cherub peeks out of sukuna’s suit.

by the end of the month, it becomes an unofficial rule of the office. mock the sonny angel? fired. make a comment? fired. even looking at it for too long earns you a pointed glare.

and by the end of the quarter, the entire upper management team has started discreetly wearing their own sonny angels in solidarity. your daughter, completely oblivious to the corporate chaos she has caused, simply continues her toddler life, happy and content in the knowledge that her papa always carries her gift with him.

and sukuna? well. if having a tiny plastic baby in his pocket means seeing his little girl’s delighted grin every morning, then so be it.

[summikomi]

"four arms and two faces, and this is what you're fascinated by?" sukuna said, watching with feigned disinterest as you poked at the mouth on his stomach.

"you've gotta admit it's really weird. and i'm fascinated by plenty of things about you, believe me. you have no idea how terrifying it was when you pulled out two dicks instead of one." you responded drily, a finger pulling at the crease of the lips, showing the pristine teeth inside.

"does it have a mind of its own or do you control it? is it a subconscious thing?" you asked before he could reply to your dry wit, genuinely curious.

"i don't know, why don't you stick your hand in there so we can find out?" he responded, showing the fangs of his top mouth in a growl.

"you're gonna try to eat my fingers again. does it lead to your normal stomach or is it a different thing? can you even eat with it? can you swallow?"

"i didn't know when you asked for my time i would be teaching an anatomy lesson. again, give it a try, let's see what happens."

"you should be studied in a lab, seriously."

before he could protest to the (frankly, offensive) statement, you shifted a little closer, and with one hand pressed to his navel, placed a gentle kiss on the lips on his tummy.

"what." he hissed, but you didn't offer an answer and instead moved up on your perch above him so you could cuddle up to his chest instead.

"you're so interesting, kuna."

"you are arguably stranger." his voice seemed strained, but you knew well that was just his own stilted reaction to being flustered.

with a contented sigh you snuggled closer to his rapidly beating heart, deciding to give him the mercy of not having to hide his blushing face.

[itsoutrageouss]

It’s the first time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that something in him changes profoundly. You had always had your different skill sets out on the field, it was what made you such a powerful duo for the task force. You were sly, agile, a killer in the dark and he was a brute show of force and strength, able to kill with his bare hands. You argued a lot, though. Your differences that made you work so well also made you clash time and time again. He found you annoying. You found him arrogant.

But after a mission, Ghost finds you collapsed on the floor in an empty building— Crying. He’d never seen you do that before, but he knew you were a softer more sensitive soul, you were just good at hiding it.

He was moving before he realised it, crouching down in front of you, eyes narrowed as he tried to find your gaze that was lost in a heap of warm tears. His hands got clammy and his throat dry because how could he make it stop? It was like the sight had reached in and seized a part of him long gone, maybe one he’d never found before now.

“Stop crying.” He said foolishly, but his tone had lost its usual edge, and the very rare lilt of pleading had laced into his voice. Why did he suddenly grab your shoulders and press your trembling body into his? He had no clue but he wanted to shield you from whatever had made you look so vulnerable before him.

A part of him didn’t like seeing this, didn’t recognise the garbled sound of soft sobs, the way your body’s strength seemed to evaporate into a fragile, soft one that he wanted to pick up and put back together. Another part of him was sucking in this moment, afraid it would get lost and maybe feeling a bit guilty about it. But this feeling of… was it protection? Protection, yes. He’d never had it like this before. Usually, protecting means killing and hurting. Right now it meant nurturing as your small hands reached around his neck and you curled into him. He reacted immediately, sitting down and scooping you into his lap.

He closed his eyes, his chin resting on your head with a sigh. He had no idea what came next. This had to change your dynamic in some way because he couldn’t ever look at you the same. He saw your softness and maybe he fell in love with it right there, and wanted to be the one you showed it to. Only him.

“Im sorry” You whispered into his chest. His hands flexed around you, fighting the urge to smother you even more against him.

“Dont say that. Just keep holding onto me.” His voice was more hoarse than usual as his fingers unconsciously combed through your hair.

Whatever had happened, he was sure you felt it too, or you would’ve never let him this close. And he wished for everything you would let him again one day.

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