#so I can’t just throw them into the drabbles that I want them to be in

[shywhumpauthor]

Hi, Coal! This is anonymous from the Whumpuary question

There's no need to respond to this, lol-

I really just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to respond to my previous question :))

(I enjoyed reading the dragged out version of your response, lol- better for my brain to process and take in for sum reason)

I'm good with whatever decision you make. I was honestly just curious because I do enjoy your stories and writing style, so there's that-

(#love Noah)

And, I get where you're coming from with writing series and all, so like- yeah

Regardless of your decision, as long as you don't stress yourself out about it, I'll be fine with whatever

So, uh, yeah- thanks for responding and– take care :)

I am so bad with responses but I wanted to say something just to lyk that I appreciate that you read the long response and then also took the time to reply. That sounds so stiff and insincere written out like this, but I promise it’s not lmao

You as well! Happy new year!

(#love hurting noah)

[eternalsunrise]

shower talk.

deadpool (wade wilson) x f!reader

wc: 750 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, sexual & murder references (duh)

notes! wade brainrot is so bad idk, logan fic coming soon pls forgive me

wade often barges into the bathroom while you’re in the shower just to sit on the toilet seat and rant about the mission he just went on, or even to ask what takeout you want for dinner. couldn’t it wait until you had clothes on? sure, but he wants to talk to you now.

unexpectedly, you decide to take a page out of his playbook.

you’ve just walked in the door after your 9-5, throwing your keys and bag haphazardly across the room in frustration. you spy the familiar rumpled up red and black suit on the floor, wade was home. you had complained last week about deadpool tracking blood into the apartment after his “work.” it seemed your boyfriend had listened and obliged. if it weren’t for your bad day, the image of him cupping his crotch as he scrambled naked into the bathroom would’ve made you smile.

you hear the water still running, but you finally understand how wade feels, this can’t wait. you open the bathroom door and throw the toilet lid down, unsure if wade even heard you enter over the sound of his own voice belting hall and oates’ greatest hits.

you sit down and let out an overdramatic sigh. your boyfriend’s voice quiets down halfway through “out of touch”

“honey bear? you’re home! these stab wounds will heal in about two minutes then you can join me. i know how you feel about seeing intestines, and i don’t want to make you gag…well scratch that i do sometimes—“

“i fucking hate men.”

you hear the sound of the shower curtain opening slightly, and wade’s head peaks out, looking at you with wide eyes, “woah language, babydoll! you know degradation turns me on.” his head tilts to the side, noticing the distress written on your face “but i have a feeling this isn’t about me…”

you spare him a narrowed glance, then watch as his head disappears. the curtain closes and you hear the water hit skin again as he resumes his shower. he’s giving you time to speak. remarkable.

“you remember that guy i told you about? the one that gave me major creep vibes? and was just an all around dick?”

you get a hum in response, and you can’t see it, but you know wade is physically biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything. it’s endearing in a way.

you rub your face with your hands, the memory of what you’re about to say lights the fire of anger again, “well. guess who got that promotion i was being eyed for? i’ll give you a hint, it’s not someone with a vagina! and on top of that, i saw him try to look under my skirt as i was leaving! that fuck.”

you almost regretted telling him that last part, knowing where this was going. but your mind was clouded by frustration, and the water was already turned off. the rings screech against the metal shower rod as wade throws the curtain open, reaching over your head for a towel. “okay sweet thing. where does this cock suck and fuck live?”

your eyes catch a glimpse of red turning pink as it swirled into the tub drain. you shake your head, suddenly realizing the severity of what your mercenary boyfriend was implying. “no no babe please it’s not that serious! and you just got home. not to mention if people found out, you’d get in so much trouble all because of something silly that happened to me and—“

a long finger is placed over your lips. you’re eye level with wade’s v line, partially covered by the towel now wrapped around his waist. you trail your eyes upward, locking them with the one who interrupted your rambling.

“shhh. nonsense kitten. now. you’re going to tell me this guy’s address, and i’m going to go out for…” wade uses his free arm to look at a make believe watch, “hmm, about an hour. while i’m gone, you’re going to change out of this sexy pantsuit. then have a glass of wine, and touch yourself while you think of me fondly. i’ll grab dinner on the way home. yes?”

when you nod with wide eyes in agreement, he removes his finger, bending down to meet your face, “atta girl.” he praises as his lips graze your own, kiss light as a feather. he clears his throat then, patting your cheek a few times as he stands up to walk out of the bathroom. whistling as if murder was all in a day’s work (you suppose for him it is)

you sit there stunned, wondering if you just got your coworker murdered….and why you were so turned on.

[ramonathinks]

Fuck it, Guess We Both Ain't Shit — GOJO

summary: as meg said, “quit asking when imma leave my n*gga, knowin’ you still with your bitch”

cw// 18+, MDNI cheating, sex, fingering, oral, risky sex, geto slander, squirting, choking, slight impact play, sappy moments,

tagging -> @satorubi @sunasbon haha. dividers by @/cafekitsune word counter: 1.1k just a little thirst/drabble :p

“he’s your best friend” this was a conversation almost twice a week, with him on his knees looking right at your puffy clit, spreading your legs wide enough so he can fit through, though just barely.

“and she’s your roommate” he huffs out a laugh, kissing the bud and you flinch back, legs trembling.

“ah– fuck… fuck you.” even with saying that, you open your legs more, waiting and wanting for him to have his fill of you. his fingers, his tongue, his cock was all you could think of most days and you hated yourself for it.

“me and suguru always loved to share our toys. but you just want me all to yourself right? only me, hm? so why not just break up with him?” gojo’s fingers are on your clit but they roam, teasing your slit — almost inside but steadily running up and down, your breathing hitched and shook as you spoke. 

“why not break up with her?” you counter, grinding your hips to his palm. you hated how he always made you fight to get a touch from him.

“nah baby, tell me… humor me? make me understand or I’ll stop,” he looks in your eyes, stares deep into them until all you can see is blue surrounding you. “i won’t let you cum.” he’s doing the thing now to tempt you…sliding his fingers inside, curves them just well enough that you can taste your orgasm and pull away.

“he’s just …” your throat closes up but he slows his pace, he wants to know the truth… the rivalry he and Suguru had was always different, something twisted in his head; best friends but deeper and worse. it wasn't hatred and it wasn't that he even wanted to be him, but he wanted everything that suguru had and it was torture... evident that he was still a child at heart. a selfish needy child.

“he can’t make me cum, okay? especially…” you’re gasping. “especially like you do, satoru. he’s not as big and he just doesn’t feel right… i..--”

he’s shoving his face into your pussy, slick and saliva sliding down his face as he eats you out. throwing your leg over his shoulder for a better taste. “actually, i don’t think i can wait any longer, need to be inside you.”  his shirt's on the floor and he's smiling at you, sliding the head of his cock around your slit.

"so why me over her?" you ask, gasping when he settles inside of you and he hisses feeling your tightness around him.

“this fucking cunt is the reason, so fucking pretty and perfect.” he says, with you squeezing him tight he feels like he’s going to cum, his cock twitching and your juices sliding down his length, sinking himself lower and fucking inside of you hard. you’re swatting his chest, overwhelmed at him hitting a particularly gooey part inside of you. “c’mon baby, i know you can take it for me. you always do, come on.” pressing his hand against your stomach to feel himself inside of you, you both smile. “fucking stuffing you, aren’t i?”

he sped up his pace, dragging himself in and out of your pussy so slow that it almost hurt whenever he slipped out and it made you wrap your legs around his waist and to hold him close against your chest. he slips out, slides in and his cock strokes your inner walls at a dangerous pace, his hand on your hip. he moves to kiss your lips and  you turn your head, away from him.

“still won’t let me kiss you? that’s too far for you, hm? can’t be cheating if i haven’t kissed those pretty lips, is that what you think?” he’s laughing and it makes your chest hurt a bit at how mean he’s being. “those pretty lips suck my cock and you dirty those knees for me, but can’t kiss me… scared you’ll fall deeper?” his thrusts are harder and deeper, you’re gasping until he wraps a hand around your throat. 

he slaps your throbbing cunt, once and watches the clear waterfall of your squirt drip like a faucet with a smirk, tapping the head of his cock on your slap, fascinated at how more comes out. there’s a smile on his lips as he fucks more of it out of you, rolling his hips enough that it angled his cock to a new position, the tip nudging that spot again and fucking it ever so slightly. your moans breathy and loud, as if you didn’t care who heard which made me laugh at you. 

you’re dizzy and your body is humming, your mind so light that your thoughts are clouded with fantasies that won’t come true; him taking care of you and providing, not even just sex but more… your heart is thumping with excitement and awe, a droopy smile touches your lips. “do you really want me?” you sound far away and muffled, your tongue heavy. “or am I just another conquest for you, sa–toru..”

he sounds close, you can feel his body radiating heat against yours, a laugh on the tip of his tongue: “i never wanted anyone as badly as i want you, suguru has good taste, but i plan on making you mine.” he kisses the palm of your hand, peppering kisses up your arm until he’s at your shoulder, licking up your collarbone. his lips graze yours but he pulls away. “will you let me kiss you this once?”

“just this once.”

neither of you hear the bedroom door open, neither of you realize suguru is there, standing there and looking until he laughs. “here i was trying to be a good boyfriend and bring your favorite snacks since you've been sad all week and here’s satoru, who comes to see you before he even announces that he made it back from his trip and…” he laughs again, throwing the food on the floor. “and, you were only this sad because he was gone so why am i surprised that you’re fucking him?”

“sug–” you didn’t mean to, honestly… you regret not ending things but regardless if you did, getting with satoru after being with suguru would only raise the same questions. 

“no.” he’s leaving, moving fast trying to get out of the door. 

“please, suguru just listen.” it’s satoru who’s talking now and for a moment he does stop, turns around and he scoffs.

“he’ll break you, you know that? like he does with all the girls he’s been with.” he’s talking to you, looking over satoru’s shoulder and looking you in your eyes with a deep look of disgust and disappointment. then he’s looking at satoru, “you make me sick.” he’s huffing away, slamming the door when he leaves.

the permanent weight in your chest subsides and a rush of happiness comes for a split second, you even see satoru’s shoulders slump.

 until your roommate comes in.

no part two.

[criminalamnesia]

GOD I LOVE traitor and how strong you've made the reader. It's amazing! And I eagerly await any future parts, whether it's big proper story or drabbles. BUT, you come first and your life does so you do what you gotta and go be amazing! We can wait. Proud of you X

im so late to responding, but thank you! <3

here’s part six :) also not really proofread so I apologize for any errors! I’ll fix them later!

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on the floor, cross-legged amongst broken glass, brittle flowers, and discarded clothes, when someone knocks on the door.

you don’t move, don’t say anything. the noise seems distant— too far off to be real.

besides, if someone is really knocking on your door, they know you’re in here.

and if they know you’re in here, it could be one of five people. your former squad mates, or the doctor.

the knock sounds again. it shakes you from your stupor, yet you still make no move to answer it. let them come in; let them see what they’ve made of you. of who you were. of who you could’ve been.

the person on the other side of the door is speaking now. you register the muffled baritone as it fights to be heard from the hall.

you clench your fists, then unclench them— stretching out your fingers as far as they go. clench them again. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it’s a tick— a calming habit. you don’t think it’s working at the present moment.

the doorknob turns. you still don’t move.

the door is being pushed in, light from the hallway aggressively slicing through the darkness you’d left yourself in. you fought the urge to curl in on yourself.

you’d been so consumed by your anger— are consumed by it— but coming into this room and seeing that damn note was earth-shaking. it was terrifying, and it was a tangible reminder of the team’s unapologetic tactics. simon’s unapologetic tactics.

the voice is speaking once more, clearer now that the door is out of the way— but you can’t make out the words over the ringing in your ears.

a hand gingerly lands on your shoulder, and that’s when you snap.

you whirl around, throwing yourself into the intruder like a cobra striking its prey. clearly caught off guard, the person lets loose a ‘oomph’ and falls backwards as you take out their legs.

everything is fuzzy. the ringing in your ears crescendos, and it brings pain with it. you’re striking your target with reckless abandon, still not registering who is flailing underneath you.

punches land and land and land. nails scrape and scratch and draw blood. all you see is red— all you hear is the sharpening of a knife or the whirring of a saw.

and then there are hands on you, yanking you away from your victim. the red slowly starts to recede, the ringing in your ears subsiding.

it’s only then do you release you’re screaming.

its only then do you see the swollen and bloodied face of your doctor, lying a foot away from you. she sputters a cough, blood leaving her lips and splattering onto the man leaning over her.

“you need to calm down,” a voice speaks into your ear.

“calm down, or they’ll sedate you,” it says, and you finally stop screaming. you take a breath.

clench your fists. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it takes you another minute to calm down enough to realize the person holding you is simon.

the doctor is being carried away now, and you notice it’s johnny and kyle carrying her. you notice john is standing to your left, eyes full of sympathy and guilt as he looks at you.

“get,” you huff, reaching down to slap at the arms circling your middle. “off me.”

simon releases you instantly. you don’t hesitate to put distance between the two of you. a few feet, at least. he just stands there, eyes watching with an expression you can’t place.

“what happened, love?” john’s voice is a soft rumble as he speaks. he moves a hand toward you, but decides against touching you— even if he only wanted to comfort you.

“I—” you start, glancing down at your hands. they’re bloody again.

“I thought it was—” you try again, but stop yourself.

you thought it was what? thought it was who?

you had heard man’s voice speaking to you. your mind had twisted things— had given you something you wanted to hear, deep down— because it gave you the chance to strike.

it gave you the opportunity to tear apart whichever man from the 141 had been there to check on you.

and you know you had wished it was simon.

john takes a cautious step forward at your silence. “let’s get you somewhere private, yeah? somewhere to cool down.”

the fire licking at your veins has subsided in favor of the chill of shame. of terror at what you’ve done— what you’ve done to the one person you had on your side. the person who was truly on your side.

you don’t fight this time. you give a nod, then solemnly follow him down the corridor. simon falls in behind you.

john takes you to his office, opening the door and ushering you inside. you move without protest, stepping into the dark room.

the two men enter behind you, john flicking on the light while simon pulls the door shut. you would’ve laughed at the scenario if you were in your right mind.

but you weren’t.

you weren’t okay. you knew that you weren’t, at least physically, but what you just did…

there was no way you were going to be transferred now. you doubted you would’ve even before you attacked the doctor.

you’re going to be discharged. you understand why.

but it hurts. this is your job, your life. years and years on the battlefield don’t prepare you for life off of it.

“love?”

john’s voice brings you back to the present. you realize you’ve been standing in the center of the room, unmoving and unblinking.

you feel simon’s hard gaze on your back. you want to cry.

how did things ever get this fucked up?

“im fine.” you say, not bothering to turn around. you didn’t trust yourself to keep it together if you faced them.

“you’re not,” john states, and you roll your eyes.

“im not talking about this with you,” you bite out, circling your arms around yourself. “either of you.”

“you should at least talk to someone, love— this isn’t healthy.”

“please, stop.” you tell him, but john was never good at taking orders. he gave them, not followed them.

“you hated the therapist, and you haven’t spoken to anyone else since… everything.” he continues.

“stop, john,” you try again.

“you need to let it out, love. we’re here—”

you spin around then, fists dropping to your sides. “for the love of god, john, shut the fuck up.”

that stuns him into silence, eyes slightly widened and mouth agape as he looks at you. simon doesn’t move from his position near the door.

“you are the last people i would ever fucking talk to! I don’t even want to be talking to you right now, but you won’t stop trying. trying to talk to me, trying to make it up, trying to wriggle your way back into my good graces.”

you pause, sucking in a breath. “johnny must’ve relayed the message, and that’s why you’ve back off a little— but one wrong fucking move and you’re swooping again! you aren’t my dad, you aren’t my lover, you aren’t my friend, and you’re sure as hell not my fucking captain anymore.”

“so please, john, leave me be. the four of you have done enough.”

the room is silent for a beat, then two. then three. and then simon takes a step forward, removes his balaclava, and looks you square in the face.

he doesn’t open his mouth to speak, so you take the chance to.

“don’t start with me, simon. just don’t.”

“the note,” he says. “you read it.”

you just look at him, a disbelieving scoff leaving your mouth as you give a nod. “yes, I read your fucking note. and I saw the stupid flowers, too, after seeing everything else you wrecked. tell me, how long did you wait after you tied me up to tear it all apart?”

he just watches you. you want to scream.

the note flashes back into your mind.

‘hope you can understand.’

“does it make you feel better, thinking what you did was right?” you ask him.

“I wouldn’t have done it differently.” simon tells you.

you clench your fists. unclench. stretch.

breathe in, breathe out.

“and if the roles were reversed,” you said, watching him. “if you were in my position, would you have expected me to do what you did?”

“yes.” he says, without hesitation.

“you’re unbelievable,” you huff. “is that how little I meant to you? all that time, wasted?”

“that’s not what I said.” he tells you, and you shake your head.

“no, but it’s what you meant.” anger is bubbling up again. you feel overwhelmed; shame and fury battling inside you. the ringing building up in your ears again, emerging from the background.

you can’t do this.

“what i meant is what i said.” he takes another step forward. “you’re just too damn stubborn to listen, always have been.”

“just go, simon.” you tell him. “both of you. go.”

“I wouldn’t change what I did,” he says again. “to protect my team, my family, I would do whatever it takes.”

you bite your tongue. you don’t want to keep arguing with him. he was an unmovable object— there was no way to reason with him.

“im not sorry it happened.” he speaks. “i did what i thought i had to do. what i had to do to make sure my team was safe.”

“and you should understand that, considering this team is all you have, too.”

you don’t respond— and even if you were going to, a knock on the door breaks the tense silence in the room.

johnny pops his head in, his eyes full of concern. “doc’s alrigh’.” he says, his gaze catching yours. “jus’ some bumps and bruises. she’ll be jus’ fine.”

“and she uh— said she’s not pressin’ charges or anythin’. says she still expects to see ya in a few days for your check-up.”

that’s what breaks you.

a tear slips from your eye, falling onto your cheek. another follows, then another, and you’re sobbing as you fall to the floor of price’s office.

the three men are staring, but no one makes any move to comfort you.

probably wise, considering what you did to the last person who tried.

you faintly register the click of the door as it shuts again. you don’t look up— your head in your hands as you cry.

cry about what you’ve done, what you’ve lost. mourn your career and your family and your love for the man who doesn’t regret what he did.

unbeknownst to you, simon is the only one still left in the room. his steps are silent as he approaches you— leaving only a foot of space between your bodies now.

he watches you as he sinks to the ground across from you, his long legs folded over each other, the fingers of his left hand twitching as he finds himself wanting to reach for you.

he still cares for you. his feelings for you were what made him do what he did in the first place.

the love he felt for you, twisting into betrayal and hurt and agony. fueling his actions, his desire to hear you admit your wrongdoings.

passion made people dangerous. passion in love, passion in rage. it was a fine line, and simon had crossed it.

he understood what this meant for you. recalls the conversation he had with price earlier— how laswell was planning for your discharge instead of your transfer.

this was the end of your time with them, and in the military. the hands of the 141, damaging one of their own beyond repair.

he finds himself mourning alongside you, then. mourning what was and what could’ve been.

what should have been.

“im sorry for what we did to you,” he says, but it comes out as a whisper that you don’t hear.

“im sorry.”

thank you all again for your patience! I plan on tying this little series up soon :)

as a reminder, I no longer do taglists. if you want to be notified when I post, follow @troiastitans and turn on notifications. I only reblog my works there.

I hope you all enjoyed :)

[rindreamery]

can i please get a fluffy nagi seishiro drabble with topping one as laying on your head on their chest and topping two as best friends to lovers?thank you!

ORDER 3: READY TO GO !

nagi + sweet + laying your head on their chest + best friends to lovers w.c. 900+

note. thank you guys for your patience with these 🙏 literally drowned in schoolwork for finals so i haven't really had time to write freely as i wanted to

interested in more? check out the lounge !

the thermostat in nagi’s apartment always feels like it’s cranked to the lowest temperature possible. 

the living room is freezing, the chill is constantly nipping at your skin, and you’re uncomfortably aware of the goosebumps scattered across your skin. you’re shivering in your spot, the type of cold where you can feel it under your skin and in your stomach, and the regret of wearing a worn-out hoodie is finally starting to sink in. it doesn’t help that your once-hot drink has long turned cold, effectively getting rid of your last source of warmth. 

nagi’s so unfazed, and it bothers you how he manages to look so comfortable like this, while you feel like you’re on the verge of contracting hypothermia. but you don’t want to get up; you don’t want to leave the comfort of the corner of the couch and expose yourself even more. (and in some ways, you start to think that you and nagi really are meant for each other. you’re both lazy.)

“it’s freezing, sei.” you nudge him on his thigh with your foot, easy access from where your feet lay on his lap. it’s an exceptionally rough nudge, and he groans softly at the feeling, but he only spares you a quick glance before he’s drawing his attention back to his phone. typical. your eyes twitch, your lips press into a thin line, and you’re visibly unimpressed with the man sitting next to you. you nudge him again, “can’t you crank the thermostat up, or something?”

there’s a brief pause—

“‘m too lazy,” — then comes his predictable response. you’ve had this conversation about one hundred times in the past, and his response is always the same. word-for-word, without fail. you sigh to yourself, because, quite frankly, you’re not quite sure why you were expecting something different from him this time around. you’ve accepted your fate, and you’re just about to throw your feet off his lap, ready to make the five second tread to the thermostat on the wall. but you feel a large hand press down on your ankles, trapping you. “don’t get up.”

a complaint lies on the tip of your tongue, and you have to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. 

“what am i supposed to do then?” you grumble, crossing your arms and defeatedly sinking back into the cushions. (though, to be fair, you didn’t put up much of a fight.) his hold on your ankles never leave, and his grip tightens, ever so slightly. “you want me to freeze to death, huh?”

“c’mere,” nagi tugs at your ankles, pulling your body from its spot by an inch. he’d put his phone off to the side, and he’s looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to come over to him. your brows subtly pinch together in confusion, and you stay frozen in your spot, unsure of what he wants you to do. “i’m warm,” he adds, as if to convince you. 

your heart does a flip at the sight of him slightly opening his arms, inviting you to crawl over to him. but you don't rush over to him. 

you're nervous. you’ve never outright cuddled with nagi— maybe pressed your shoulders against him, thighs touching, at best. but there’s never been a situation in which you were snuggled up against him and wrapped in his arms. so there’s hesitation behind your movements as you squeeze your way into the space he’s made for you, unsure of where to place yourself and where to put your hands. do you wrap your arms around him? do you lay them on his chest— and you shake the thought out of your head.

too intimate. (but, then again, this whole situation is.)

“lay on my chest,” he mumbles by your ear. his hands are planted firmly onto your sides, guiding you into a position comfortable for the two of you, and you let him. you feel awkward and rigid the whole time, but oddly pliant under his touch, and you try your best not to act like a wooden plank against him. but it doesn’t work, and he grunts at how stubborn you are, resisting him. “try to relax a little,” and you awkwardly laugh, a nervous response. 

it takes a second for the two of you to find your place. as you lay your head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat wraps you in a sense of calm— each beat like a soft, reassuring thrum, to calm your nerves. you can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, and it almost feels like a rocking lull.

you’re becoming aware of the fact that he’s surprisingly comforting. so you allow yourself to melt into him, little by little, and he reciprocates by wrapping his arms around your waist. you feel him press his chin on the top of your head, and the way his fingers sneak under your hoodie to draw idle patterns on the skin of your back. (this feeling is foreign and weird to you, but welcome in a way.)

you’re sure nagi can feel your heartbeat, and the way it threatens to beat out of your chest, but you can feel his too.

his pulse quickens when one of your hands press against the planes of his chest, the other arm falling to your side. you feel him take a sharp intake of breath, the way his chest abruptly rises before slowly falling back down, in a shaky breath. “you warm now?” he whispers, his voice a level of gentle you’ve never heard before. 

“yeah,” you whisper back, completely settling into him, cheek pressed against the fabric of his hoodie. your hearts are still racing from the nerves of being so close, but you’re both relaxed— at peace. a silent understanding. 

you feel his mouth quirk up into a faint smile, as he presses his face deeper into your hair. “let’s take a nap together.” 

maybe, this was nagi’s plan all along.

© rindreamery, 2024

[prkhaven]

warnings: smut minors do not interact, oral (f rec.), face riding, profanity, pussy muncher jake agenda, happy birthday jake <3

─────────୨ৎ──────────

“Ja-Jake” You breathlessly mewled as you rutted your hips fast against his lapping tongue, one hand holding the bed frame while the other tug at the fluff of his hair

You’ve last track of time, everything all blurring together from the moment he attached his plump lips onto your pussy. Your legs forced to trap him underneath you, his arms hooked them over his shoulder providing all the access in the world to lather himself in you.

His tongue glides over your saliva covered folds, never getting tired of the sweet taste of your essence. Even though the lack of oxygen made him light-headed, he’d go out like this. “So fucking sweet baby. I could eat you up forever” He blabbed incoherently at your core sending shivers up your spine

You knew his words to be true. He’d drag out countless orgasms out of your like it was nothing until he’s completely drained you of anymore. That’s how he loves to spend his time—buried in between your legs.

“You can give me more” He hummed out his white lie, his hand landing straight to the plush of your hips digging his nails just enough to leave the indents on your skin

Your body easily folding forward, thighs shaking at each side of his shoulder, you shook your head aggressively unable to let out anymore. “C-Can’t” You whined when in reality that was far from the truth and he knew that

His tongue dragged moving in a quick repetitive motion, loud slurping noises reflecting how much he was taking to pour on his taste buds and let it slide to the back of his throat. His tall nose bridge hitting the swollen bud each time you moved, smearing yourself all over him, the mixed spit with your cum and wetness spilt from the corners of his mouth to drabble down his chin.

Beyond filth and that was the best birthday gift ever.

Jake could feel how your body jumped when his tongue dared to tease your gaped hole but never managing to make it far because of of him, the evident smirk felt against deep within your folds made you throw a weak glare towards him through squinted eyes and an opened shaped mouth which went unnoticed in the end.

He was far too engrossed in living in the moment of how he lathered himself in you, wondering how he could get more until he felt you drifting away from him, the weight peeling off his face to disappear as the overrated air filled his mouth and lungs.

Jake’s eyes darted to you to see you panting heavily, improperly holding onto the bed frame as you hovered just above his face. Glistening tired out pussy so close yet so far from his mouth. The sight was to die for but eating you pussy was better—way better than merely seeing it.

“Jak-” You started but squealed when Jake’s arms extended out and roughly pulled you straight back down, not wanting to hear your excuse

His nose immediately hit your clit as it ripped out a strained moan from your mouth, your nails dug further into the frame cracking at it under your fingernails. “Not done with my gift yet” Jake spoke, the first time you’ve properly heard his voice this entire time

“Keep movin’ for me” He tapped at your side, before he opened his mouth leaving feathering kisses at your folds once feeling your hesitance to move

Wanting to encourage you, he was going to guide you towards allowing him to receive the biggest pleasure and luxury of you squishing his face again but when he felt you slowly grind your hips again, he smiled—beyond pleased and utterly so proud of you, “That’s it- My best birthday present ever”

Today, you saved a horse by riding your favorite cowboy.

——

[emmyrosee]

*NOT A REQUEST* just a thought I desperately needed to share….. Sukuna definitely does not like ur friends like he says u should ditch them for him and like whenever you have to leave his house early cause u promised to meet ur friend somewhere for smth he’s getting all pouty and finds ways for u to stay LIKE HES JUST SO SOFT FOR U OMGGGG🥹🥹🫡

I mean was I not supposed to write a drabble? Physically impossible-

——

“Baby, I’ll be back so soon!”

“No, you won’t.”

Sukuna doesn’t like when you leave him. It’s not uncommon for him to throw a small fit when you tell him you have to leave, when you assure him you’ll come back to him at night and curl up in his side while you both go to sleep.

But when you have plans without him? And you’re not just leaving for errands?

He’s the world’s biggest baby.

Sukuna crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe, “you’re going to be out with her all night, and I’m barely going to see you because the second you come home, you’ll be too tired! How is that fair!”

You click your tongue in adoration and make your way over to him, cupping his sharp jawline in your hands and kissing the tip of his nose, “I can’t just be all yours; sometimes, you have to share me.”

“I share you,” he snaps.

You giggle and shake your head, “you share me with choso and yuuji while youre buried in my neck- and as much as I adore it, I do unfortunately have to see other people too, honey.”

“Oh, so you don’t want me to want your company.”

“Kuna-“

“Oh no,” he begins dramatically, raising his hands in defense. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.” He huffs and makes his way away from you and to the couch, knee bouncing wildly as he tries to hide the facade that he actually, immensely, cares that you’re leaving. “Just say you hate my affection and go.”

You snort and quickly follow him to the couch, curling up beside him, “I love your affection. You know that. But I promised her we’d grab dinner, okay?”

“No.”

“And I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Don’t care.”

“Can I have a kiss goodbye?”

“No.”

You toss your arm around his shoulder and press a wet kiss to his cheek, making sure to make it noisy and dramatic, pulling back with a sticky “mwah.” When you make a move to go back in, you quickly spider your fingers up his side, making him grunt and shimmy away.

“Literally hate you,” he hisses. You laugh again and follow his body, this time aiming your kiss for his lips and humming happily when he connects it.

He sighs against your lips, “bring me home a piece of chocolate cake.”

“Okay-“

“And text me every hour, or so help me-“

“I will, baby.”

“And no later than 9, that’s too late-“

“Okay dad. Anything else?”

He pulls a face at your words before rolling his eyes and leaning back in for a kiss, “be safe. I like you or something.”

You smile and nod happily, “I will, sukuna.”

“Promise?”

You extend your pinky out to him, watching fondly as he extends his own to lock with yours, and you each kiss the tip of your finger as if to seal the promise.

“I promise.”

[verstappen-cult]

I would LOVE a part two of the birthday drabble if ur open to that? maybe how max tries to ask for reader’s forgiveness? maybe asking Charles for help but he’s just like “no u gotta figure it out on ur own this time buddy” bc he’s mad at him too?

PART ONE. Max totally blanks on your birthday plans and it’s not pretty.

Max is pacing around the kitchen when you wake up the next morning. When his gaze snaps up to meet yours, you can see the bags under his eyes. You think about reaching for him when you remember what happened, so, you simply walk past him to make some coffee.

“Good morning, schat.” He whispers, looking down. You’re still very much hurt but seeing him like this breaks your heart. 

Maybe you’re being too mean, giving him the cold shoulder and not even meeting his eyes, but you also think about what your best friend said last night when you called her crying. He needs to sort out his priorities and give you what you deserve. And you also need to stand up for yourself, you’ve let Max get away with similar things in the past and it’s time for that to stop. 

“Good morning,” Charles says as he enters the kitchen. He looks at Max but doesn’t say anything when he sees his eyes filled with tears. You’re hurt but he’s angry. “Want me to drive to your appointment?” 

“Mmh.” You nod, taking your cup of coffee and going back to your room. 

Charles opens the fridge and tries to look busy waiting for Max to get the fuck out of the kitchen. But that doesn’t happen and he is forced to close the door and face his boyfriend. 

“Have you talked to her?” Max asks him, rubbing his hand over his face. 

“Yea’,” Charles simply answers, trying to choose between an apple or banana for breakfast. You or Max are the ones always cooking because Charles just can’t do it, but you’re not in the mood to make breakfast and he’s definitely not gonna ask Max. “I’m not the one who fucked everything up.” 

“I’m sorry, okay? I just—I didn’t forget, but there were—”

“I don’t fucking care, Max. It was her birthday! It was supposed to be special but instead of enjoying the one day—the only day she really asks for our attention, she cried all the way home.”  

Max feels like crying again. He feels awful but doesn’t know what to do to make things better. 

The Dutchman opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Charles holds his palm up, shutting him up. 

“I won’t tell you what to do, you need to figure that out by yourself.” 

Charles storms out of the kitchen, leaving a sad Max behind. 

You don’t say goodbye when you leave but Charles, at least, tells him that they should be home by eight, to not wait for them because they will be having lunch together. He doesn’t ask Max if he wants to join. 

Max doesn’t know what to do. 

You’ve never been this angry before. Charles is a different story, they’ve been racing their whole lives together, so, he has seen parts of Charles you don’t even know. 

Max thinks about calling his mom to ask her for advice, God, even calling his sister, but rejects the idea because he knows what they will say. 

It’s all his fault. Stupid Max, stupid SimRacing—

Max gets up from the couch, he doesn’t know how much has passed since you left, but the sun is already sitting down. 

When Max enters his streaming room he wants to cry again. And he does. 

He cries as he disconnects everything. He cries when he smashes the camera onto the floor. He cries while throwing a chair across the room, crashing against the wall. He cries looking at the mess he made, the mess he is.

Max falls to the floor and cries, and cries, and cries, until he feels two strong arms around him and soft words spoken into his ear. 

“Max, breathe with me, please,” Charles begs, caressing his back and lifting his chin up with his free hand. Max’s gaze focuses on his face as he imitates his boyfriend, inhaling and exhaling slowly. It takes some time, but Max eventually stops shaking. “Oh, Max. What did you do?” Charles sounds so broken and disappointed, Max doesn’t want him to feel like that. He’s done so much already. 

Max starts crying again. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Charles wipes his tears and kisses his eyelids. 

Max doesn’t deserve this. 

“Hey, love.” Max turns his head around at the sound of your voice. You crouch down next to him, a soft smile dancing on your lips. “Would you drink this, please? For me?” He doesn’t need to be asked twice. You guide the glass to his lips and he drinks the water — with a little bit of sugar you always add when you’re not feeling okay. 

Max wants to talk, he wants to apologize again, he wants to scream at you and Charles for being so attentive with him when he doesn’t deserve it. But he feels so tired, all he can do is lean into your touch when you cradle his face with both your hands, palms comfortable against the stubble on his cheeks. 

“We’re gonna buy new things and me and Charles will help you set everything up, okay?”

Max wants to scream. Instead, he barely has the voice to say, “I don’t want any of this. I fucked up because of this stupid shit.”

“Max,” Charles calls his name, moving around so he’s sitting next to you. “You love it.”

“I love you more.” He simply says, looking between you and Charles. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…” He lets silent tears fall down his cheeks. 

“I know you’re sorry.” You lean to leave a kiss on his forehead, then, you look directly into his eyes. “I’m still hurt, Max. I won’t lie. We need to have a long conversation, the three of us, but I don’t want you to quit something that you love and enjoy so much. I just,” You notice you’re crying when Max wipes the tears with his thumb. “I want to be a priority in your life.”

“And you are!” He wants to smash his head onto the floor. “God you,” He takes your hand, lips quivering. “and you,” He takes Charles’s hand then. He guides them to his chest, just where his heart is. “are the most important people in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

There’s still so much to say but, for right now, you just want to be as close as possible. You’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to go from here.

[lady-ashfade]

His work of art

day 2 of drabble marathon

Older!book! Percy Jackson x reader

-£ ask: hi! love your writing and love you! could you do for the marathon (book)percy with the reader wearing red lipstick for some occasion and he is so enamored with this look and how the lipstick smears on their lips because of him🥴 and tries to convience them to just spend the day with him.keep thriving, bestie!- Anon

-£ words: 700

-£ warning: short, kissing, fluff, kinda spicy content but nothing to much.

it was unbelievable how much more he was craving your lips.

Percy had to hold himself back most of the time from kissing you every moment he was with you. training? he wanted to scoop you up in his arms and capture your lips with his. or maybe you’re talking about something and all he can do is stare at your pretty lips and going blank on what you were saying. safe to say percy wanted to kiss you every second.

but now, as you lean against the mirror in your shared bathroom with your makeup all done he watched carefully. his heart thumped in his chest he was sure it was about to come out of his skin from how fast and hard it was. you looked so stunning. it was incredible how you made him speechless at your beauty. your body in the new outfit you bought making your body stand out, everything about you in this moment was like staring at a piece of art.

he walked into the bathroom without a word and stood behind you, not caring about the glance you gave him in the mirror as he wrapped his arms around your waist. in his pajamas he hugged you close, his hair messy and all over the place and his lips yawned. he looked so tired. he hummed when he placed his head on your shoulder and in the crook of your neck.

laughing you look at your boyfriend as his hands started to grab at your skin. you sigh and put the cap on your lipstick with a eye roll.

“can I help you?” you asked amused. he didn’t answer but left a small kiss on the skin of your neck. you took a deep breath, “words percy.” he groaned and looked up at you from the mirror and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Look too good,” he mumbled and tugged you back into his chest with a growing smirk, “you know much much I like red on you.” huffing you raised a brow and place your hands on his arms around your stomach.

“don’t be like that, this is a important day.” both of you knew that his pleading eyes could make you stay almost every time. he only winked at you then spun you around and placed his hands on the sink behind you, trapping you. looking at him you look so beautiful with half wide eyes waiting for him to do something. he wasn’t going to disappoint you and he leaned into you and pressed his lips against yours not caring about messing up your makeup.

at the time you didn’t think about anything else but his lips so you throw your arms around his neck and pull him into you. it made you feel amazing how percy could crave you and needy for your attention.

breathing against each other his actions became messy and you didn’t care about the mischievous smirk on his lips. he knew what he was doing. how easy it was to mess up red lipstick.

he pulled away when he felt you gasping for air and opened his eyes to see his artwork now. the red stain was not just on your lips but around it making him feel proud. he took your chin into his hands, “maybe you should stay home today? no need to fix that.” his thump ran over your lips.

you turn around quickly and see the mess on your face making you panic and grab a rag and wet it with water. “you’re so evil!” you shout a half hearted insult making him laugh at you.

his fingers tap your hips as he inches back near you, “me? you enjoyed too.” his head fell back near your neck, “stay with me today? I’ll make up to you.” it pained you to decline his offer but today couldn’t be missed. your interview was today.

“I can’t,” you pout your lips and starts to cover the skin again, “but when I get home you can mess up my lips again?”

“you know just what to say to me.” he chuckles into your skin. he leaves kisses over your skin until you have to leave him, only the thought of seeing you again makes him keep going.

Taglist: @itzmeme @ravenmedows @maria699669

[jujutsusimp]

Good night

🌸 Sukuna allows you to stay in bed with him after sex for the first time

I already mentioned my brain rot about Sukuna big spooning you when i commissioned this fanart, so I wrote a short drabble to go with it. I am going for a realistic Sukuna : so rough but slowly softening to you.

Content: True Form! Sukuna, fem!reader, fluff, implied sex but nothing explicit

You were wrecked like always. All your muscles were sore, even those you didn’t know you had, your legs were all wobbly, and the sheets were just too comfortable to even think about lifting your head from them. They felt so soft beneath your exhausted, sweaty, body you couldn’t help but cling a bit against the nearest pillow.

After a moment of self-indulgence, you try shifting, looking for the strength to get up but only groaning from the effort. You give up instantly, closing your eyes to rest them. Just five more minutes.

“I will be gone in a moment," you say with a sigh. Sukuna was not known for his patience, but he was always more tolerant after sex, you could probably squeeze a couple more minutes in his bed without annoying him too much.

To your surprise, you feel one of his hands sliding under your waist, gently circling your body before pulling you against him. You wince slightly, clearly not in shape for a 5th round, but his touch was surprisingly tender.

"Stay," he orders with a tranquil but imperious tone. His three other arms join the first around you, wrapping you completely against him.

He wants you to stay? For the night? It’s usually not an option, and right now, you are not opposed to the idea. You are so tired and his strong arms and his torso are like a cocoon, enveloping you in soothing warmth.

“You asked so nicely, how can I say no…”, you say with a hint of teasing. You were clearly not up for real snark, but you have a reputation to maintain. Just so he doesn’t get too comfortable bossing you around.

“Well leave then, but don’t whine you are tired after”, he retorts with annoyance, tightening his grip on your waist, unconsciously contradicting his own words.

You can’t help but smile at his statement. He is making baby steps, but a month ago he was throwing you over his shoulder whenever he wanted sex, so this was already a spectacular improvement.

“No, I am good there”, you finally answer, nuzzling a bit more against him. You rest your head on one of his strong biceps while bending your knees to curl up, making yourself even smaller in his arms. His legs mimicked yours, making you disappear against his strong frame, sharing even more of his body heat.

You were so sore, it was actually really relaxing to bathe in his warmth like that, and you feel your heart gently calm down from the intense exertion, taking the steady rhythm of his own instead. Despite being completely trapped by his four arms, being the small spoon was incredibly comforting, and you closed your eyes, relaxed.

“Now sleep," he commands, burying his face in your disheveled hair, his steady breath taking on your scent as he rubs gently his nose against your neck with a discreet sigh.

“Good night," you say for the very first time before you fall asleep with a gentle smile on your lips.

[absfawn]

slight continuation for this bestfriend!abby drabble

bestfriend!abby who, after a few weeks of that night, which was spent fucking herself to the mere thought of you, can’t seem to look you in the eyes whenever she’s near you. you occupy her mind a little too much, always creeping into her head even when she’s trying to ignore those rush of thoughts, to ignore the rush of heat between her legs when you look over at her, mid read of your book, bite your lip and giggle. somehow unaware of how badly she has it for you. but she can’t seem to stop, no matter how hard she tries. most days she’s focused on the way your lips wrap around your thumb, sucking the sugar off your skin when you’re done eating the strawberries she picked up for, and wonders how it would feel to have those same lips wrapped around her clit, messily licking at her cunt. she wonders how it would feel to feel the way you slip your fingers between her folds and right up to her clit, teasing her. abby can barely ever focus on whatever you say to her because she’s always too occupied thinking about your cunt pressing against hers, grinding into her without a single thought in your pretty head.

her mind spirals the day she finally sees you. her baby blues finding it hard to look at your face, more or so sneaking glances at the sleep shorts, legs exposed fully for her eyes and hers alone. she wonders what your skin would feel like under her touch, what sound you would elicit from between your lips if she sunk her nails into the skin. the words are coming out your mouth, but they don’t reach her ears, her lips wedged between her teeth and she’s thinking about your thighs tightly wrapped around her head, fingers buried in her hair, scratching at her scalp as your back arches off the mattress when she finally makes you cum against her tongue, gushing over her lips and chanting her name like it’s the only one you’ll ever know for the rest of your life. maybe she should feel mortified that she’s always thinking about you like this. you, her best friend, who knows every single thing about you. should best friends think of each other like this? thinking about them in ways that they would probably be nervous about? maybe that’s the problem, abby knows you would probably find it fucking flattering she’s had sex dreams and dirty thoughts about you.

“abby? are you listening?”

she wants to scream, yell even, but she doesn’t, she sinks her teeth deeper into her bottom lip, so hard it draws blood, and hums in your direction. “yes, what?” she grumbled out, acting so nonchalantly like she doesn’t want to pin you to the couch and devour your pussy like it was like her lifeline. “what’s up?”

there’s a glint in your eye, one she misses because she’s looking away from you before you have the chance to find her gawking, nosing through the magazines you left out on the table from last night, and shakes your head with a soft laugh. “nothing, was just wondering if you were coming out with me tonight, you remember? the party”

“the party— oh, that party,” abby sighs in realization and slumps more into the chair with a strangled groan, one that has you huffing over and throwing a pillow at her. “you know i don’t like mel.”

“no, but you like me, so you’ll come with me, right?”

abby’s breath hitches in her throat at your choice of words, and she really can’t stop the way her face heats up, surely you don’t know about her big fat crush right? before she’s pinching the bridge of her nose and shrugging. “what do i get for agreeing?”

“you can help me pick a dress!”

jesus fucking christ.

not only does she have to go through hours of you finding the perfect outfit, which she will enjoy a little too much, but then she has to witness your drunk self and the way you’ll be dancing with your friends, grinding up on them like you do every time you go and out have fun with them. she can handle seeing you in baggy clothes, but when you put barely anything on, she’s going to really have to test her patience and not think about all the sinful things she wants to do to you any time you’re in her sights.

maybe abby will need to get drunk out of her mind tonight to stop the thoughts about you that never seem to end, no matter how hard she tries. you drive her insane and you’ve got no idea just how badly.

“fine, but only because it’s you.”

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

hiii i love ur fics idk if ur requests are on rn but can u do a short drabble of the tiktok trend where the guy hasn't ask his gf to be his valentines day so she "put him on sale" as a joke ofc but she's like

BF FOR SALE ($3.50)

- amazing cook

-crusty feet

- will buy anything u want

any character is fine but i would love katsuki or shoto!!

LMFAOOOO this is for sure the funniest ask ive gotten yet😭😭😭 this is so cute !! and very long overdue I apologize writer block devil was rlly kickin my ass😞 valentines been over but yk i had to write this ! i was rlly hesitating between writing for shoto or katsuki and then i realized i could write for BOTH OF THEM!! and so i did ! i tried honoring your request as best i could, hope you like it <3 !

no pronouns mentioned, pure tooth rotting nasty fluff, use of petnames (my love for shoto and sweets, babe and idiot (lol) for katsuki), katsuki is an asshat but when isn’t he, shy katsuki, shoto is a bit of an airhead, kissing, biting, reader is petty asl lol, lemme know if i missed something else !

todoroki shoto ♥︎

“yn, my love.”

“yes, shoto ?”

the corners of shoto’s mouth pull into a tiny frown at the usage of his first name. no baby, no hun, not even sho. just shoto.

“did i do something to upset you ?” he asks carefully from his spot at the foot of your dorm bed he seems to be stuck at, he can’t bring himself to move until he knows if you’re actually mad at him, and he has an inkling you are.

you look up at him for no longer than a second then look back down at your phone screen “what makes you think that ?” you question back nonchalantly.

“you posted something on your tiktok account..” shoto doesn’t have a clue how to have this conversation with you and it makes him a little nervous, he regrets not going to izuku for advice after all.

“mhmmmm~” you hum, urging him to continue knowing damn well you know what he’s going to say. you wanted to hear him say it himself.

you know shoto’s had no previous relationships before you so these type of things probably don’t mean as much to him as they do to you, but doesn’t everyone want their boyfriends to ask them to be their valentine ? you sure do, and your boyfriend hadn’t asked you to be his yet, so as petty as you know you were being at the time you posted the tiktok he’s no doubt here for right now.

shoto feels like a criminal on trial desperately trying to plead his case with you being the judge. tentatively, he asks “ you said you were..putting me up for sale ?”

immediately it’s like a switch had been flipped. you place your phone down onto your bed next to you, shoto wishes he could take your phone’s place. you cross your leg over the other and bring your hands together like a super villain revealing their master plan “yes. yes i did.”

“oh.”

silence. nothing.

shoto tried—he’s trying. he’s trying so insanely hard to make sense of everything that is you but he simply can’t. he breaks eye contact to think of more to ask but his attention is quickly pulled back to you when he hears you whine.

“uuuuughhh shotoooo~” you moan, throwing your head back against the headboard. “you’re not supposed to say ‘oh’ !” you’re face changes from grumpy to deadpan as you lower your voice slightly to try and mimic him. on any other day this would’ve made him laugh but he’s beyond lost at this point. he clears his throat before speaking again.

“ i don’t know what i’m supposed to say—or what i did for you to want to sell me.” he thinks “and for 3 dollars at that.”

you let out a laugh when you process his words and shoto’s shoulders magically feel lighter at the sound. carefully, he slides a little closer to the side of your bed so he can stand at your bedside. little by little. you pretend you don't notice.

"it's what you deserve for not askin' me to be your valentine."

the secret’s finally out and you get to see how the cog wheels in his head are starting to turn in real time, it has you holding back a giggle when he looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“is that..why you were mad ?” you nod, humming out a playful mhmm

“ya really hurt my feelings you know ? to think my own boyfriend wouldn’t ask me” you clench your fist over your heart and fake sob dramatically.

shoto huffs out a laugh, relieved to see you’re not actually mad, and goes to sit down on your bed. he tentatively reaches for your hand and squeezes it twice when you let him hold it. before bringing it up to his lips and placing a sweet little kiss to it. it feels as if pop rocks are going off inside of you.

“ i’m sorry for not asking you to be my valentine.” he apologizes, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing your hand “ i was thinking i should’ve, but i didn’t want you to think it was weird since we’re already dating.” his thumb goes to run over your fingers “ i was worried me being too intense would scare you off.” he mumbles.

your eyebrows furrow, you lean towards him to make him look at you “ you wouldn’t scare me off, who told you that ?”

“kaminari. he said ‘coming on too strong scares away the babes.’ ” shoto quotes

you sigh. of course it was that bigmouth portable charger filling his head with this stuff.

you pull your hand out of his grasp and he looks up to protest but you grab his face in your hands before he can say anything, you can practically see him start melting at the contact as he blinks at you slowly, he reminds you of a cat.

“sho” you purr, rubbing his cheeks “ rule number one is never ever listening to kaminari’s dating advice. most of the time it is very wrong.” you explain.

shoto presses his mouth to the palm of your hand “yeah, i’m starting to regret that now.” he speaks into it, you snort. he leans in closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips and you reciprocate, pressing a few more kisses on his lips for good measure “ i’m really sorry for not asking you.” he says in between pecks. you hum in response to him placing even more kisses all around your face. “s’okay. i’m also kinda sorry for putting you up for sale.” you say, running your fingers through his hair while he places kisses on your shoulder.

he lifts his head up to look at you then, an eyebrow raised with an amused expression on his face “kinda sorry ?” he asks.

you nod “mhm. kinda sorry.”

he chuckles to himself, then gets up so he can climb into bed next to you. when he’s positioned how he likes it, with his head in your lap while you comb through his hair with your fingers, he sighs peacefully “well, it wasn’t all bad. i’m glad you think i’m a good cook.”

“what about the crusty feet ?”

“i’m choosing to ignore that part.” shoto smirks lightly to himself when he hears you laugh at his joke, clearly proud of himself for it. “and i will buy you anything you want, to make it up to you.”

“i don’t need you to buy me anything, sho” you roll your eyes with a lovesick smile “ all you gotta do is ask.”

he blinks up at you, looks off the the side as if he’s deep in thought, and suddenly gets off your lap to sit right in front of you. you never think you’ll get over how pretty your boyfriend is and being reminded of it with how close he is to you makes you flustered. he leans in to kiss you passionately and you don’t know if it’s the love he pours into it or the lack of air that has you so dizzy, you don’t dwell on it.

when he pulls away he’s looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky and he simply, almost shyly smiles at you and asks.

“ will you be my valentine ?”

bakugou katsuki ♥︎

you did not expect katsuki to come barging into your dorm room five minutes after you’d posted your tiktok. the loud sound of someone banging on your door and proceeding to let themselves in seconds later causes you to let out a squeak.

in comes katsuki, phone tightly clutched in his hand and the moment his eyes zeroed on you he’s like a bull charging at a red flag. he stands right in front of you, angry frown on display before he shoves his phone in your face.

“explain this. now.” he growls, you have to hold back a laugh, keeping your face as calm as possible you look between him, his screen then back at your phone.

“what’s confusing about it ? i thought i was being pretty straight forward.”

his eye twitches. “why the hell did you put me up for sale ?! and for three dollars and fifty fuckin’ cents ?!” he exclaims, you can’t help the snort that bursts out of you, though katsuki doesn’t look as amused as you are.

“explain.” he deadpans.

“i think you can figure it out.” you shrug back.

he mutters insults to himself that you can’t catch “well obviously fuckin’ not, cus I wouldn’t be askin’ you if i did.” you simply shrug and look back at your phone. “i wrote it in the caption.”

it takes him a second to process then he’s tapping his password and opening the clock app at super sonic speed. his eyebrows furrow and you see him tapping away at his phone. his eyes widen when he reads your caption and he looks down at you with a mix of desperation and disbelief.

“you’re mad cus I didn’t ask you to be my valentine ?” your bratty huff and turn to the side as you shrug again is all the answer he needs. he looks at you for about 5 seconds longer then sighs.

he sits down on your bed and keeps staring. katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things and one of those things is you ignoring him. a warm hand on your ankle startles you and you can’t even ask him what he’s doing before your being yanked towards him. you squeal, almost missing the smirk on his face or the huff of laughter at your reaction. almost though, so you glare at him. katsuki looms over you until your noses almost touch, then you turn away with a huff. he chuckles, pressing his lips to your neck.

“ yer such a baby, y’know that ?” he mumbles, smirking against you neck. you huff but make no effort to shrug him off “ no i’m not, jerk. is it so wrong for me to want my boyfriend to ask me to be his valentine’s ?” you grumble, trying to ignore the feel of his warm lips against your skin, it’s not working so well for you.

“s’not what i’m sayin, sweets” he nips at your earlobe “‘m sayin’ ya coulda just told me ‘stead of bein’ a baby about it.” you can’t tell if this is his way of trying to apologize. either way, you don’t want to give in just yet.

“i’m not supposed to tell you to ask me to be your valentine’s katsuki, that’s not the point~ !” you huff petulantly. you feel a but childish but, c’mon ! it’s a given to have your boyfriend as your valentine and it wouldn’t hurt your demon spawn of a boyfriend to be a little but romantic once in a while.

he playfully rolls his eyes at you “see, what’d i tell you? big baby.” leaning forward he nips at your nose making you groan and trying to push him away with your palm. katsuki being the powerhouse that he is, doesn’t budge. “ i didn’t think to ask ya cus you’re already mine. so why should i need to ask something that’s a given ?”

your heart beats faster at his words and katsuki takes his chance when he feels you loosing up more and more. suddenly he’s got your wrists in his grip, holding them above you and looking down at you with that sickeningly handsome smirk. you’re almost there, he can practically feel it.

“i—i’m..still mad at you” you stutter out weakly, your defenses are down.

“yeah ?” he taunts.

“yeah. apologize.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly “why should i apologize ? you said my fuckin’ feet stink.”

“ ah, ah, ah.” you tut “don’t put words in my mouth, i said your feet were crusty.”

“yeah, thanks babe. that makes it so much better.” he sasses, you laugh “and i complimented you ! i said you were an amazing cook !”

“yeah but that ain’t a compliment, ‘ts a fact.” he says matter of factly, you’re eyes threaten to get stuck at the back of your skull with how hard you roll them and he snickers.

he dives in and steals a kiss, and then another one when you don’t stop him. when he pulls away to catch his breath, ready to steal another kiss you stop him by placing your hand on his chest. he looks down at you questioningly and you give him a raised brow in response. he groans.

“fine. m’sorry” he concedes quietly

“foooorrr ?” you urge.

he narrows his eyes at you as if saying “don’t push it” but swallows his words down “ for not askin’ you to be my valentine’s or whatever the fuck” he shoves his now hot face into your neck and mumbles “now quit bein’ all pissed at me.”

you’re happy enough with that, so you wrap your arms around his neck, one of your hands creeping up his nape and into his hair. he sighs contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention you’re giving him.

“thank you. i’m also sorry for saying you have crusty feet.” hearing him scoff at the accusation makes you giggle “and for putting you up for sale.” he hums, happy with your apology.

“..kinda.”

“oi.” he warns. you giggle in response continuing your ministrations in his hair.

“you still haven’t asked me so..” you trail off. he lifts his head up to look at you with a blond eyebrow raised.

“ does this valentine shit really matter that much to you ?” he asks.

you respond immediately “yes.” nodding aggressively to make your point.

he sighs, shaking his head. he looks at you, then looks off to the side in embarrassment, he can be so cute when he wants to be. steeling his nerves he looks you straight in the eyes. fearless with fierce red cheeks and all.

“b-be my valentine, idiot..”

[queenimmadolla]

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

(eddie munson x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Eddie discuss your current pregnancy craving...or, in which you want something not all that common of a craving and ridiculously difficult to get a hold of, and Eddie teases you over it even though you both know he's going to get it for you.

warnings: references to baby making activities.

a/n: those damn tiktoks keep getting to me. lil drabble. more dad!eddie here. masterlist.

Pregnancy was not something Eddie Munson believed he would ever understand. Wasn’t something he thought he’d have to do.

  Until—at the very responsible age of twenty─he took to finishing inside of you and one of his swimmers took. Played hide-and-seek for a good five months before either of you knew she was there.

  You hadn’t started showing until about two or three weeks after finding out, and now at almost seven months, you had the cutest baby bump Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off, a ravenous hunger for the most peculiar things and absolutely no tolerance for the weirdest fucking things; the sound of kernels popping made you want to throw up, and so did the scent of baked goods and the ‘air on Tuesdays’ (Eddie was still trying to work that one out).

  Whatever you wanted, Eddie got you. Albeit, with tons of questions asked. Like, right now.

  It was late in the evening, chilly throughout the trailer but warm in the room thanks to the trusty space heater Eddie had had for years. The both of you had traded your day clothes for pajamas, so you were in one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he was only clad in a pair of sweats because his body temperature always ran a little on the hot side, and you were curled right up to him. Your head had been previously nuzzling into the crook of his neck, placing kisses over the tendons there and nosing along his jaw but now it was craned back, batting those pretty eyelashes up at him with pleading eyes and a pout.

  “Pleeeaaaaase, Eddie?”

  “Branzino.” Eddie repeated your request with amused disbelief.

  “It’s low in mercury, so I can eat it.”

  “Branzino.”

  “It’s what she wants!” You chirped, moving a hand to rest over your growing bump. Baby Munson, your little Penny, had recently learned she had legs and could stretch them out in there. Despite the two of you settling down, she seemed to be filled with energy; you could feel her moving around, targeting certain areas with her kicks. She’d been pretty still for a good hour or two so you thought she might have woken up from a nap. 

  “Yeah?” Eddie asked, quirking his brows with lidded eyes, so engrossed with how caring you were for his baby already. 

  Witnessing you go from awkwardly acknowledging her existence with a pat or uncertain conversation to almost always having a hand over your bump, as if to protect her from a threat while talking to her as though she was already cradled in your arms, had Eddie always so tender with emotion. 

  He was so proud and in love.

  You hummed in confirmation and when Eddie’s hand moved your (his) shirt up, you immediately grasped his wrist to place his palm over the area your baby’s foot was currently pressing up against. Eddie grinned as he felt the movement just under the warmth of your skin, firm and held surprisingly long before it retreated and he rubbed over the area as you relaxed further into him.

  “She was stretching.” He correctly deduced. 

  “Mhm, she’s been kicking the heck out of my ribcage, so I think her head is right here.” You placed your free hand over your bump, just under your left breast, “She only got active after we showered, so she just woke up.”

  Eddie felt a little guilty about that, it had probably been him railing you against the shower wall that stirred her from her slumber.

  “Sorry, sweet pea.” He mumbled, continuing to rub your belly if not somewhat more apologetic, “I’m just so excited that I can’t get your mom pregnant right now, ‘cause we already have you, and she’s just so horn—“

  Eddie laughed as you delivered a swift whack to his chest with the back of your hand, fighting a smile as he teased you through an attempt to talk to your baby.

  “Excuse me, you were the one trying to feel me up on the couch!”

  “No, I did feel you up. And if I recall correctly, which I do, it was my fingers you were cum—“

  “Distracting!” You pointed an accusatory finger in his face, booping the tip of his nose with it, “You’re trying to distract me. Branzino.”

  “Ugh,” Eddie sagged into the pillows, but the smirk on his face told you you’d be getting exactly what you wanted, like always. He just liked to give you a hard time. Banter with you was like foreplay to him. “Alright, alright. Since you must have your fish dish─”

  “I must,” You placed the back of your hand against your forehead as you fell dramatically back into the pillows.

  “And since she’s craving it─”

  “She wants branzino so badly and I’d get it for her myself but I’m utterly exhausted─no, not because we had sex,” You had immediately clocked the grinch like twist in his smirk at your mentioning of exhaustion, “I’ll have you know I probably made a good chunk of her brain today. That takes energy. Dedication. And she probably sucked the bone marrow out of me to do it, or something.”

  Eddie threw his head back and howled with laughter. You giggled along with him but tried to reason, “Okay, I’m not being completely dramatic, though! She really does steal some of my own body to make hers! I could lose my teeth, Eddie. I read it in a book.”

  The bed shook with how hard Eddie was laughing and you delighted in being the reason behind it. Once he calmed down, his head lulled to the side, cheeks red from all that amusement and warm brown hues focused on you.

  “You read it in a book, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  “Ask your doctor about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “…’Cause I’m scared she’ll say it’s true.”

  You sent Eddie into another laughing fit. When he was done with that one, he launched himself out of bed and you snuggled into the spot he’d occupied—so warm and cozy—to watch him grab a shirt and hoodie from the closet, and his jacket from where he’d thrown it on the dresser. A beanie was shoved on his head and as he wrapped the scarf you’d gotten him around his neck, he eyed you with mirth twinkling in his pretty eyes.

  “Branzino in the middle of winter.”

  “It’s what she wants!”

  “It’s what she wants.” He conceded with a fond smile, “I’ll be back after like an hour and a half of driving around to find a Greek place open so you can replenish your bone marrow with it somehow and grow the rest of her brain.”

  You hummed in appreciation, beaming at him as he neared you to lean over and get a thorough kiss goodbye. 

  “Thank you,” You mumbled shyly against his mouth.

  “You don’t have to thank me . . . but you’re welcome.” He teased.

  Driving around in the cold didn't seem all that terrible with you blowing him kisses from the bed, and his baby growing inside you. 

  That damn fish was so worth it.

[earthtooz]

fluff, apologising and making up after a 'fight' kind of drabble bc i miss suna <3

suna rintarou shows up to your university on the third day of the silent treatment.

the sight is a surprise, to say the least. your pro-volleyball player boyfriend standing outside your faculty’s building with his hands in his pockets, blending in with baggy jeans, a hoodie, and a cap. he looks the part of a university student, but you could never be fooled, not when he's 6'3 with an equally admirable stature from exercising.

amongst the crowd of outflowing students, the dark-haired spots you, olive eyes widening upon seeing you. he pushes himself onto two feet before walking over to where you stay rooted, dodging the students who just came out of the same lecture.

“hi,” suna greets, stopping just a few feet away from you. the sight of his lopsided smile is enough to get your heart racing again. you've missed him so much.

regardless, you cross your arms to keep up an angry front, not wanting to give in to his charms just yet no matter how good he may he at using them. 

“what are you doing here?” you ask bluntly, betraying the butterflies in your stomach.

his expression doesn’t falter at your iciness. “not happy to see me?”

you are happy to see him, very much so, especially when he has taken the initiative of literally showing up at your campus and waiting for your classes to be over to see you. he must be tired from practice as well and you know too well that mondays were never kind to him. 

so the fact that suna came all this way for you makes you feel a little special. 

he’s even wearing some of that cologne that you really like and unless it’s for special occasions, you know that your boyfriend is never bothered enough to wear any fragrance. he is so sly that you could kiss him.

“not particularly, suna.” you say in response, lying through your teeth.

suna clutches his chest like he’s been shot, making a gasp of offence at your statement. “babe, after i came all the way to campus? i thought i’d never want to come back here but i made some exceptions for the love of my life and this is what i get in return?” 

“suck it up, i guess.”

“-and who on earth is suna? never heard of him. can’t believe you’ve already forgotten my name after three days, i’m losing sight of reality, babe hold me, i might faint.”

“whatever,” you chuckle a little at his antics, eyes softening with a certain fondness that suna doesn’t miss. his lips twitch upwards at the sight of it.

this is his chance to win you back. he throws his line in in hopes of catching you hook and sinker. 

“let’s go to dinner tonight,” he offers, recovering from his previously downed position, voice contrastingly soft and gentle to smoothen his proposal. 

“what, so you can stand me up again?” you quip, instantly slicing the atmosphere to turn tense as the line snaps in half.

suna’s grin falls, morphing into a guilty frown. “c’mon pretty, that’s mean. you know how sorry i am, i didn’t mean to forget about our plans.”

you huff, letting your arms fall back to your sides. “i know, i know, but you standing me up just stung. it was frustrating because i made time for us that i could have used to study with instead,” you confess. “you know how stressed i’ve been with finals.”

the athlete stuffs his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “but i’m trying to make up for it.” 

“i know and i appreciate it, but now’s not a good time. i’m sorry but i can’t go to dinner tonight or any time soon, i have a bunch of practice tests to do that i can’t keep putting off.”

“then can i come over?” asks suna, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

“and watch me study? do you really want that?”

“i just want to be with you, i can order us takeout or something- on me.”

“guess i’m just irresistible, huh?”

“duh, do you know how much i suffered during the weekend? missed you so much, practically died from boredom.”

“oh so i’m just another person for you to bother? is that how it is?” you ask, unable to contain your smile. 

the dark-haired scoffs. “c’mon babes, you know you’re better than that. you’re the only person i can bother.”

“oh fuck off,” you whack his shoulder teasingly. “also for your information, you’re not coming between me and my education.”

“ambitious people are a turn-on,” he mutters with a shrug before pulling you in to kiss your cheek.

“ew get off me, freak,” you joke whilst shoving him, not rough enough to actually create distance but suna still stands his ground from the force. his hand goes to hold your other cheek as he smothers you with over-exaggerated affection. 

you laugh in his hold, holding on to his wrists for balance. “suna!” you yelp when he pushes too much weight onto you, causing the two of you to stumble sideways. “actually get off me.”

“can’t. won’t. don’t want to. this is what you get for not responding to me all weekend- what does  a man need to do to get a text back from the love of his life?” 

“easy. be a man.” you step out of his grasp with a satisfied smirk, beginning to walk away from your boyfriend who stares at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. inevitably, suna runs up to you.

and as he encases you with his arms in the middle of the empty gardens of your university faculty, you know that the two of you will be okay. even if suna is the bane of your existence, there is no one else for you like him. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[tojisun]

hockey player simon pt 03 // part of this plot // mlist

i swear it was just supposed to be a drabble w no plot

jo heaves a sigh the moment you slide in front of her, and you would have been insulted if it wasn't for the gentle smile she gives right after. still, she's staring at you with that teasing tilt of her lips and her eyes narrowed in humour, one that you're not privy to.

"what?" you finally bite out, fiddling with your iced coffee, feeling self-conscious.

you fleet your eyes to yourself and, yeah, sure you're wearing the same pants as yesterday’s but c'mon? you didn't get to go back to your place after, well...

at least you didn't repeat your top, and is instead wearing a sweater you've stolen from simon's closet. cashmere, cream and soft, and the material comfortable, if not a little bit loose in the arms that droop past your fingers.

you thought you at least looked like those typical college students in the movies—effortlessly chic in a boyfriend sweater, if not a little haggard because who is not when in university?

she finally chuckles, the thrum of her voice easing up the frown that tugged your brows together. “don’t sweat it, superstar. it’s just that i’m still not used to seeing you be a sugar baby.”

you choke mid-sip, her words devouring you like an angry tide. you feel your eyes water in protest, the feeling burning as you sputter.

“i’m not–!”

“you’re not what?” tim asks, sliding into the seat beside yours.

you grumble, wagging a finger as you wipe your stained chin with your other hand. jo snorts and fills him in, chuckling all the while as she gestures at your sweater because she knows it couldn’t possibly have been yours.

tim’s smile turns cheeky, teasing, and he wiggles his brows at you.

“shut up, oh my god,” you whine, rolling your eyes at them, almost shyly, and you feel your cheeks warming. “i’m not– simon’s not my–”

“oh c’mon, babe,” jo says, playfully throwing her mechanical pencil at you. you huff before chucking it back at her, giggling to yourself when it bounces off her arm and rolls into the floor.

tim picks it up for her.

“he buys you expensive things—” her eyes flit to the new promise ring that you’re wearing. you unconsciously hide it behind your palm. “and pays for your tuition which i’m so, so jealous of.”

“doesn’t he fly you around too? in a private jet or something?” tim pipes up, shamelessly snagging away your iced coffee now that you’re too preoccupied to drink it.

“he doesn’t!”

twin brows quirk up in silent judgement.

“…he buys us first class tickets, not, like, a whole jet.”

see? they seemed to say with the way they cock their heads to the side.

you sniff. “it’s for work,” you mumble, remembering the first time simon flew you for his games.

“i mean, for him, maybe. but you? tell me what business do you have in winnipeg?” tim chirps and you almost want to jump him just to make him shut up.

“sugar baby,” jo finishes, singing. “but i mean, who can blame him, huh?” she grins, her voice dipping into a faux southern accent. “i’d spoil you too, sugar.”

“oh, you flirt,” you trill, taking the opening she offers to change the topic.

tim takes the bait and whines about how jo doesn’t do all those things for him, but jo is unmoved, eyeing you knowingly, but thankfully drops it too.

it’s just—

there’s a whole stigma to athlete’s girlfriends. for god’s sake, they even have a whole label—puck bunny—which is honestly just a dig made up by really shitty men who burn with jealousy . and you know that, but—

you can’t help but wonder if some, not all, of simon’s love for you is because of what you do to him. of what you give him in return. especially since he’s so busy all the time, either flying during the season and is rarely home, or packed with training and other physical regimen during the offseason.

so you wonder if this—flying you with him on the days the official WAGs are not being flown by the franchise, bringing you to vacation spots on the other side of the ocean, buying you everything you used to only dream of ever having—was his way of paying you back for your support and patience and care and love.

tim knocks his shoulder with yours, worry now lining his boyishly charming face.

“y’alright?”

“of course.” you lick your lips. “so did you ever get a copy of the lab sheet from rayan?”

.

you watch from the front seats as the team wrap up practice tonight, their coach looking pleased at their performance. it was still difficult to follow the game, but the players all look content too despite the sweat and their ragged breathing.

they never did know how to hold back even during a practice.

you say your goodbyes to the other people who came to watch, shooting simon a text that you’ll be waiting for him in the parking lot, and walk out.

the cashmere sweater, thankfully, is enough to fight off the cool air and the gentle breeze while you make your trek to simon’s distinct range rover, all sleek and pure black like he’s got the damn royals for a passenger.

it’s locked so you hover outside, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your pants, and entertained yourself with making puffs of air like you’re ten again. it’s honestly not too bad to be alone, if it weren’t for the sudden swarming of your doubts—the very same ones you thought you already shrugged off before taking the cab to the rink.

fuck.

“hey, love,” simon’s voice pierces through your thoughts and you jump, barely smothering the yelp that almost tore itself from the base of your throat.

you swivel, heart pounding, and simon’s beautiful face creases into one of concern.

“are you–”

“si!” you greet, jogging to him.

he laughs and opens his arms for a hug, one that you excitedly give him. you tuck your cold face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, taking in the antiseptic scent of rink soap and the faint smell of his shampoo.

his body is so warm against yours, and you can’t help but melt in his hold, body relaxing at the comfort he brings you.

“you ready to go home?” he asks like the insinuation that his home is also yours is not heart-stopping and world-changing.

you nod, unable to trust your voice right now.

there’s something different whenever it’s just you and simon—your thoughts, for once, are quiet and your confidence in yourself peaking like simon is the only place in this world where you can truly be yourself. it’s not just indulgence, nor tolerance, but it’s pure unadulterated acceptance.

and maybe it’s because of that realization, that flipped switch, that in the lull of your conversation with simon, you bring it up.

“did you know? my friends think that you’re my sugar daddy.”

you feel him freeze, body going rigid as your words spill into the space between you two. you continue to hide your face away from, avoiding a serious conversation as regret begins to build, shame licking up from your fingertips to your ears.

stupid, you think to yourself. why the hell did i bring it up? fuck—

then, simon laughs, soft and sputtering, his whole body shaking as he giggles, choked wheezes uncontainable. you tip your head up just enough to catch his eyes, questions filling your tongue, waiting to be spilled, but simon cups your cheek so tenderly before you could doubt anything any more.

“do i need to be one to spoil you rotten?” he asks like he didn’t just shaken the foundations of your doubts.

do i need to be one to spoil you rotten, he said like spoiling you was the norm. like showering you with expensive gifts and booking you expensive flights and helping you with your expensive necessities was something that boyfriends typically do. like your friends are the odd ones for thinking he had to be anything other the man you’re dating to be able to splurge for you.

“no,” you say, dizzy with the weight of your affections.

simon’s smile droops, his eyes clearing. “was that something that honestly worried you?”

“i–”

the humour leaves him, and simon straightens up at seeing the gravity of the turmoil in your heart. his hands fall to your sides, thumbs hooked in the dip of your hips. he leans forward until his nose is brushing against yours.

“you know i love you, right?” simon asks, his voice quaking in desperation.

“yeah,” you sniffle, honest because god you mean it. “yeah, si. i know.”

“okay,” he says after a while, still intensely looking at you like you aren’t surely anything but a blob in his eyes with how close you two are pressed to each other.

then, his lips brush with yours, so faint, you almost missed it. you shudder at the feeling of it—how could a chaste kiss feel so intense?—your lips wobbling as something in your heart bloats.

you feel simon’s lips stretch into a grin from where they’re ghosting above yours, and then he’s kissing you again, this time deeper and longer. you curl your arms around his neck, feeling like you’re being swept off your feet all over again.

because simon is not good with words, truly, but he’s managed to swing an axe to the cornerstone of your self-doubt and made it crumble.

.

“oh god,” jo sobs in your arms, the two of you snuggled up under your sheets. “that was a joke! i promise!”

“i know,” you say, giggling. “i swear jo, it’s not you, it’s me.”

she looks up at you, eyes shimmering with tears. “are you sure?”

“yeah,” you croon, bumping foreheads with her. “...‘sides, simon’s taking me somewhere to make up for, and i quote, ‘making you doubt how serious i am about you’.”

she sniffs. “…permission to make a joke again?”

you grab your plushie from somewhere behind you and smack her ass with it.

“ow!”

“stop being dramatic—that didn’t hurt.”

[giggles nervously] so uh. 🏃🏻

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Yandere Step-Brother - Drabble

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

SUMMARY: Your step-brother doesn't like sharing your attention.

WARNINGS: Stepcest; Blackmail.

AN: Hope you guys like it 😊and please don't be a silent reader! If you liked this, please make sure to reblog or comment, I beg you.

Based on this Headcanon

--

“Who is he?” 

You try to ignore him, opting to walk past him until his hand grabs your arm, forcing you to stop in your tracks and face him.

His lips are pressed thin, and you know he watched the small but impactful interaction between you and a random classmate of yours, who brought you back the pencil case you forgot in class. 

Of course he’s jealous now. Your step-brother just can’t stand the sight of you and another guy, no matter who he is. 

“I asked you something.” the hold on your arm tightens, and you almost wince. “Who is he?” 

You look at him for a moment, shrugging your shoulders.

“I don’t know, a classmate.” 

“A classmate?” 

You nod, but clearly your step-brother isn’t satisfied enough with your answer as he questions you further. 

“And what exactly did this classmate of yours want?”

You wave the small pencil case in front of him.

“He was just returning my case.” you reply, huffing. “Now can I go? I’m tired of being interrogated, like I committed a crime or something.” 

His eyes narrow down at your dismissive attitude, and you get a pinch of concern over the poor boy’s life. 

“Do you want me to call your mom?” his question throws you off, and you look at him. 

“What?” 

He pinches the softness of your cheek, and you have to fight back the itch to slap his hand away from you.

“Don’t you think your mom deserves to know?” he asks you, a sly half-smile on his lips. “I think she’d be thrilled to know.” 

“What-”

“Bet she’ll love to know just how much of a cock whore you are.” he looks down at you, eyes flitting over to your lips before returning to meet your eyes. “How her precious daughter is always so eager to jump onto anyone’s dick. Such a slut.”

Tears prickle your eyes, and it takes every bit of self-control for you to hold them back but your step-brother sees their shimmery on your orbs anyways.

He puffs his chest, leaning so close that your noses are practically touching. You know better than to step back, as a prey does. 

“I’m not a slut.” you clench your teeth, voice shaken with anger and hurt. 

He tilts his face to the side, analyzing your upset frown. 

“You think I won’t tell her?” he raises his eyebrows, “You think I won’t tell her that you seduced me into fucking you. That you were so eager and desperate to jump on my dick, just like you were about to do with that classmate of yours.”

A lonely tear runs down your cheek, and you look away from him. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” your voice is small and shaken, and you hate the way he nuzzles into your hair, kissing your head with a soft kiss. “Why are you so invested in ruining my life?”

“Because I love you.” he declares, the determination in his voice scaring you.

“And I’ll do anything to keep you mine. Even if you don’t want to.”