#trying to just post drabbles when they come and not be such a tight wad about my work

[a-lil-perspective]

To Top It Off

A/N: You asked for a Hunter X Reader drabble? No? Well that’s what you’re getting. :) It’s been too long, and this has been in my drafts for months. Here’s to me not overthinking so much and just posting whatever this is.

———

“Is there a particular reason why you have my shirt on?”

You direct your attention away from the experiment before you and Tech to address the rich baritone flooding the room, the oversized length of his borrowed top acknowledged by its hem brushing your upper thigh in your twirl around to face.

“It can’t just be because I’m your biggest fan?” Your voice notched an octave higher and your lashes fanned a convincing aura of innocence, to which the man was not buying, what with the way his arms folded pointedly across his chest.

His... near bare chest, that is.

Nearly bare and nearly busting out of the thin tank top material.

Holy kriff.

Hunter pressed his lips into a tight line. “No.”

You were grateful for Tech’s interjection. “The explanation is simple: her clothing is now covered in smoking holes.”

At least the shorts survived, you nearly supplied in your absent state.

“Wha—why?!” Hunter startled.

“Ah, well you know the—”

“Actually, I don’t want to know,” Hunter decided. Kriff. He knew better than to actually ask. When things went down—or went up in smoke within the walls of the Havoc Marauder, Hunter would just as soon slip his bandana over his eyes and pretend it didn’t happen. The kids rarely ever listened, anyway.

“So, obviously, she needed a timely replacement,” Tech continued. “However, Wrecker’s top weighed her down, being far too large, and due to certain specifications regarding female anatomy, the circumference of the torso area on Crosshair’s top was simply too snug over her—”

“Tech. I get it. Thank you,” Hunter interrupted with a raised hand, voice uncharacteristically tight and slightly panicked in the effort to halt his younger brother’s implications. He was indignantly aware of his heartbeat drumming hard against his ribcage. He sighed deeply in an attempt to weed out the growing tension. “You couldn’t have just given her one of yours?”

“Mine are damaged from other experiments. No.”

Hunter clucked in disapproval, mumbling under his breath at the ironic misfortune. “Okay. First order of business: you need new clothes, lil’ bro. Next time, tell me before you get down to the single pair on your body—wait, is that one even clean?”

“The current hygienic state of my clothing has no relevance here, Hunter.”

“The hell it don’t. I can smell you from here.”

“Your genetic makeup involving sense and smell has always been augmented, so kindly put the ‘heightened senses’ card away.”

“Dude, that’s not it. Go take a bath. Karking hell—”

“Why don’t you explain yourself?” Tech crossed his arms, frowning. “You have more than one shirt, so you will certainly not miss this one,” he gestured to the loaned top on your body.

You rolled your lips to prevent an untimely snicker as you looked on in amusement at two grown men frivolously bickering over the top portion of uniform blacks.

Now preventing curious eyes from scoping out the stripped-down version of Sergeant Hunter? Well that’s another matter entirely.

You couldn’t (and made no effort to) tear your gaze away from its appraisal of his upper half; the sleeveless ivory undershirt clinging immodestly to his figure and accentuating both the toned diameter of biceps and broad expanse of his torso. Every fiber of the clothing article seemingly brand into his sculpted physique—you swore the very seams would burst at the way his built chest puffed through the tight fabric.

A damp trail of sweat began to accumulate at your hairline.

You silently chide yourself when Hunter’s gaze made a full stop and narrowed in your direction. You swallowed the undignified noise bubbling in the back of your throat.

Hunter rather relished in your wantonly eyes and slack-jawed expression undressing him, mentally filing the reaction away for later. He rested his lower lip between his teeth—an act done with nothing short of deliberation, he will admit—and continued to address his vod’ika without missing a beat.

“Yeah, well, mine are actually being cleaned hence why I only have one and she—”

“Oh Sergeant, stop whining,” you don’t know what came over you as you tossed your head back with a feigned groan. It echoed in the room. You chewed your lip. “Would you like it back now?”

Your tease palpitated, fingers suddenly encircling around the hem of the top and without warning, tugging upward.

A brief flicker of taut abdomen is all Hunter witnessed as he narrowly avoided the sight of a strip tease right then and there.

Everything within him—except dignity, which was hanging by a loose thread anyway—screamed in protest for looking away.

The visual of your smile from his periphery, dazzling and absolutely lacking any demure, was like a feedback rushing through his system, quickening his pulse. He wished he could be like Tech standing next to you, completely unbothered (more like barely paying attention) at the sight of your bare torso.

He fumed silently and exasperatedly shook his head, stuffing down the strange sensation beginning to bud and knot itself deep inside.

“No—Y/N, just... You know what? Keep it. It’s fine,” Hunter stumbled over his words. He forcefully cleared his throat, brusque awkwardness at your little theatrics just a surface portrayal of the way it affected him.

“Mhm. That’s what I thought,” you hummed in victory, considering a moment before deciding to release the top. It cascaded freely down your front once again. You suddenly strode forward, an unmistakably minx attitude falling attaché to your every step.

Well haven’t you gotten brazen.

You paused directly in front of him, hovering a finger just mere inches from the tip of his nose. The smirk never left your features. “Now I don’t want to hear another word about it, Sergeant.” Your eyes perpetrated. “My orders. Clear?”

The only thing that became clear to Sergeant Hunter was that he would be personally retrieving his shirt from your body, later.

His orders.

[theepisceswriter]

JJK men based off songs in my sex playlist (Nanami, Gojo, Toji, Ijichi)

A/N: my poundtown post just hit 1K today, so I had to come through and deliver my JJK besties with some new content since I haven’t posted anything for them in a while. I hope you guys enjoy ! 💜

Synopsis: Sex songs I think go with the men of JJK + specific lyrics + a small Drabble based off of those lyrics, not using the lyrics as words, but scenarios kinda

TW: mature things obviously, long post bc each Drabble is 300 words+, roughness and degrading & public sex for Toji, mommy kink and teasing for Ijichi, 18+, MINORS DNI!

NANAMI: Dance For You by Beyoncé

Loving you is really all that's on my mind

And I can't help but to think about it day and night

I wanna make that body rock

Sit back and watch

Tonight I'm gonna dance for you

“Think of our bedroom as a strip club tonight.” Your hands traveled up the length of Nanami’s arms until you got up to his collar bones, using the elevated height the heels gave you to your advantage as you pushed him back into the clothed chair you had stolen from the living room, having thought this whole night out in advance to make sure Nanami left the bedroom the next morning for work beyond satisfied and rushing back home to you for round two. It’s what the man deserved after working as hard as he did all the time; a little stress reliever to make him forget about paperwork and the confinements of a work desk for once. 

“No touching. I can touch you, but you can’t touch me.” You ordered, earning no sign of protest from the blonde, as you made your way over to the speaker where the soft sensual melodies were ready to go and infiltrating the room as soon as you pressed play. With your face turned to the wall, you could only wish to see his initial reaction when you dropped your robe to reveal your lingerie clad body, the red of the lacy garments and matching garter complimenting your skin beautifully which was only accentuated by the dim lighting of the candles you had placed around the room.

You turned around just in time for you to catch Nanami shifting in the confines of the chair so he could manspread his legs out and it didn’t take long for your eyes to find out that the erection pressing against his work slacks was the reason why. Getting down on your knees, you crawled over to where he was situated in slow movements mimicking that of a lion or panther with your back arched as far as it could to give him a nice view of your ass. A thousand blinding suns couldn’t take his attention away from you. His glaring gaze you could feel on you despite his signature glasses covering his pupils. 

Your hands slid from his ankles up to his thighs, teasingly grazing at his erection with your breast making a small grunt fall from his lips, up until they were at his shoulders. Which you then used to prop yourself up on his lap with, testing the sorcerer's patience with each languid movement of your hips against his laps. It was barely a swirl and more of a ghosting feeling than an actual one, but my god was it still driving him crazy. And as if that wasn’t enough, your hands moved behind your back to unclip the decorative bra you had on and allow it to fall down your chest until your hardened nipples were exposed to his gazing eyes, discarding of it somewhere in the room as you threw it over his head.

“Come here.” He finally spoke up, broad hands grabbing ahold of your waist and moving you so your crotch was directly over his. He had enough of the teasing and dancing, he needed you right here right now. His hands roamed all over your body, even pausing at the meat of your ass to grope it momentarily, before his hands were trailing up your chest and stopping right at the hilt of your breast. Taking each of them into his large hands as he leaned forward in one swift movement to take one of your hard nubs into his mouth, gently biting down on it before soothing the burning sensation with his warm tongue. 

“Daddy hasn’t been taking care of you like he should of been lately, hm? I’m going to make up for the whole week tonight, babygirl. Fuck you soo good until you’re begging me to stop.”

GOJO: On the Way by Jhene Aiko

Got me squirtin', take off the sheets

I want you to see it

You're what this pussy needed

“Come on, I know that pretty pussy of yours has more to give to me.”

You could hear the teasing smirk in Gojo’s mocking words from above and if the tears pooling in your eyes with each painful overstimulating thrust of his fingers into your sore pussy mixed with the override of your senses from nearing your 3rd, possibly 4th, back to back orgasm, didn’t have your eyes so blurry then you would’ve looked up and saw the exact same image of the blue-eyed man you were envisioning. 

“I-I can’t Gojo, it’s too much,” But despite the whimpering and protests that left your lips the fast fucking of his slender fingers in your cunt don’t stop at all. At least not like you had hoped, the white haired individual pausing only to discharge a wad of spit on your clit to massage in with his rough thumb. Your poor pussy is too weak at this point to even clench at his fingers, but the picking up of your breathing and flushing of your cheeks is enough for him to know that you’re nearing the edge. 

His fingers covered and slippery with your slick curve up inside of you warranting a sob to rip from your lips. His three fingers that work the inside of you as good as his cock mixed with the gentle massaging of your clit is all too good to the point where it's mind-numbingly good. You don’t even have time to warn him of the warm feeling in the pits of your uterus getting really to flood out before your eyes are rolling to the back of your head and you’re choking on any words that are trying to escape your lips. 

You can feel the warm clear liquid gushing out of you, the insides of your thighs soaking wet with the substance and the spongy noises that infiltrate your ears as Gojo works you down from your high and milk you of every last drop of your squirt. 

“Good fucking girl,” He praises you with a low growl, fingers finally slipping out of you for the first time in the last 30 minutes. “Are you finally ready for my cock now?”

IJICHI: Yeah, I Said It by Rihanna

Yeah, I said it, 

I want you to fuck me tied up 

The trace of your taste on the panties you had stuffed into Ijichi’s mouth has him salivating until it’s dripping down the sides of his mouth, wanting and eager to taste you and hoping that you’ll take some mercy on him and finally give in to what he wanted. His cock is red and sore from the cockring you placed around his balls, making sure he wouldn’t get any release even if you were generous enough to gift him with the warmth of your folds, but most importantly it was standing straight up at your attention; aching and waiting to see what your next move would be. It’s not like he had even an inch of dominance in his body to grab you and just take you, but even if he did he wouldn’t be able to because of the restraints you had placed around his wrists and ankles to tie him to the bed. The flesh around them red and sore from trying to do their best to wiggle out of their grip. 

He wanted you so bad to the point where it hurt him, but he also wanted to stay tied up waiting until you were ready to use him.

A quiet gasp tore itself from his lips when he felt the ghosting fingers of your soft fingertips dance upwards on his thighs and gently rub up against the ache that was his erection, allowing it to jerk in your direction as a reflex.

“My poor baby.” You finally spoke up with a hint of remorse, your words cooing softly. 

The dewy flushness of his cheeks from crying finally getting to you. Not to mention that you had finally reached your wits end and wanted him just as bad as he wanted you in this moment. Removing the underwear from his mouth you replaced them with your tongue and lips only for a couple of seconds before you were pulling away to say, “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” Your lips trailed from the side of his mouth down to his chest until you were at his nipples, toying with the sensitive flesh with your tongue to fluster him even more.

“I need your pussy.” His voice is hoarse and choked up from finally being allowed to speak after so long. Words that he would usually find dirty and too embarrassing to speak out loud flying out of his lips like its nothing, cheeks flushed with pink after the realization. “I need you, mommy. I need you so bad.”

“Good boy.” You praise him as you take your straddling position on his lap. The simple task of you taking his cock in his hand to remove the cockring already having him ready to cum. Rubbing his red swollen tip along your folds to collect some of your wetness until you’re satisfied with the pleading whines that leave his lips and sink down on him until you’re at his hilt. 

“Mommy is going to give you exactly what you want like promised.”

TOJI: Anytime, Any Place by Janet Jackson

I don't wanna stop just because

People walking by are watching us

I don't give a damn what they think

I want you now

“Turn around.” Toji’s words were practically growled out at you as he grabbed ahold of your wrists and turned you around on his own accord against the grimy cold brick wall of the alley before you could even comply with his words. Too wanting and needing for the warm hug of your walls around his cock to wait for you on his own accord. It wasn’t his fault he was feening for you so badly to the point where he pulled you out of the hole in the wall club and had you pressed up against the rough brick wall adorning an alley that led to it. If it wasn’t for that tight skirt you knew he liked, the one that adorned your curves beautifully and showed off enough thigh that had his cock painfully hard the moment he saw you, then maybe the two of you could’ve had a normal night out as a couple, but alas you weren’t.

You could hear the rustling of the fabric holding Toji’s pants up come undone from behind you, the sound only making your thighs press together from excitement having been conditioned by that sound to know exactly what was coming next. His thick erection was pressing against the backside of your skirt in an instant, his warm breath fanning over your neck as he positioned himself directly behind you as close as close would let him. You teasingly wiggled your ass up against his throbbing cock which only egged him on more, the girth of his length slipping inside of you with ese before he could even fully crinkle your skirt up around your waist. The sudden intrusion had you biting your lip to hold back your moans, but that only warranted Toji to wedge his fingers between your jaws to force your mouth to stay open.

“I want them to hear every single moan and whine that comes from between those pretty lips of yours. Let them know that you’re getting fucked out in the public like the slut you are.” One hand came to your waist to press you back against him and give you no choice but to take every inch of his cock as he pounded into you ruthlessly like the two of you were in the confinement of your bedroom and not indeed in some random alley that anyone could come into any minute like the two of you had done. 

With his other free hand he grabbed at a large chunk of your hair and forcefully tugged your hair back until your eyes were met with his feral ones, tears brimming in your eyes from a mixture of pain and pleasure that always came with his actions and soon saliva began to drip down your chin from the way he was forcefully holding it open. You couldn’t talk and warn him of the two strangers looking at you two from further down in the alley even if you wanted too, but your eyes moving to their direction instead of him gave him a big enough hint.

“Let them stare,” He growled as the force of his thrusts made your hips hit against the wall, sure to leave a bruise, “Let them see how you let me fuck the shit out of you until you’re a blabbering fucking mess.”

[vidaflxwer]

how norman learned to smile

i wanted to write something to get myself worn out enough to sleep and cope a bit with some feelings i’ve been having tonight so i decided to write this! it’s not long enough for me to feel like i should post it on ao3 so here’s a little drabble to keep you all entertained!

it’s angsty so i apologize in advance but this sort of a concept has been on my mind for a while, since emma constantly references norman’s gentle smile and how much peace it’s brought her

Smiling wasn’t something that came naturally to Norman.

When he was little and still learning the ways of the world - the names of all of its colors and the creatures that lived in it - he let his emotions get the best of him. One look at Emma’s quivering lip from having scraped her knee while climbing trees or a glance at Ray sitting alone under that solitary tree of his and he could feel the tears springing into his eyes. He always found a way to play them off as something logical, claiming it was his allergies flaring up from the pollen-filled flowers or the precursor of a cold, but the smiles he gave his friends never seemed to convince them he was telling the truth. They’d stare at him with furrowed eyebrows and parted lips before he ran off and never looked back, only letting himself cry once he was where nobody could see him.

In the bathroom, with the door locked tight and his back pressed against it, just in case somebody knew how to pick locks like he did. 

Whenever Norman was brave enough to finally meet his gaze in the mirror, his stomach always dropped at the sight of it, forever thankful he’d spared his siblings from this horrific sight. His cheeks were red and tear-stained, bottom lip stained with blood from how hard he’d bitten it to hold his sobs back around everyone else. Cleaning himself up was the easiest part of his learning. He’d take a wad of toilet paper and dab at his lip with it, letting the material soak up as much crimson tinged saliva as it could until it began to disintegrate. The washcloth was always next, taken from the towel rack and soaked with a heavy helping of warm water. He’d scrub until his skin was raw and he couldn’t even remember the reason he’d been crying in the first place, couldn’t think of anything other than the searing pain of his flesh. 

And then, until somebody came knocking at the door, he’d come to the hardest part of his routine - practicing his smile. 

“You can do this.” Norman told his reflection in a feeble attempt at a pep talk, even when the doubt within his blue irises was as plain as day. “You have to do this.”

There was always a moment of hesitation - as if while he held his breath, the entire world stopped around him - when he thought he couldn’t. When he thought he was doomed to be the weakest of his trio of friends for as long as they lived. Optimism had never come to him as easily as it did Emma, nor did the bluntness that Ray used to counteract it. Norman had always laid somewhere in the middle - just wishing for everyone around him to be happy, while empathizing with their pain far more than he liked to admit - but he didn’t want them to know that. If they had that knowledge, there wasn’t a chance in all the world that they’d lean on him as much as they did now. They wouldn’t be the first shoulder they turned to cry on, the one who they’d look to for consolation in their most desperate of times. 

And if there was one thing Norman hated more than anything in the world, it was being useless. 

So he’d grip the edges of the bathroom’s porcelain sink and spend hours upon hours trying to perfect his smile. He’d puff out his cheeks in an attempt to make their muscles more malleable, push the corners of his lips up to train them to stop resting in a straight line. He’d go through a range of different smiles - big broad grins to slight quirks of his lips - trying to settle on the one that felt the most natural. The one that would read the least bit like a lie, even though he knew one of his friends was bound to pick up on its deceitful nature at one point or another. He’d always settle on the gentlest one he could muster. One that relied just as much on his eyes softening as it did his lips curling in a way that left little room for error. He’d look left and right, up and down, making sure it was perfect from every angle. 

“See?” Norman asked himself once he was certain he’d practiced enough for the day, even as he heard his voice begin to break, noticed his chin begin to quiver. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

He didn’t give his reflection time to make him change his mind before he waltzed out the bathroom door and back into the bustle of his daily life at Gracefield, slipping into the mask of a smile he’d all but mastered as he greeted his siblings.

Never once bothering to question why it always felt too tight on his features.