#you get a... drabble? because there's no way I can draw the train

[technically-human]

Hi i'm absolutely in love with the reverse au!!

I want to know, in this verse does edwin still confesses to charles? if so how is it different? i feel if he did he would end it by apologizing, you know, religious guilt and all

There’s a train that goes through Hell.

Its journey starts in Wrath, and it departs already full of souls. It took Charles far too many years to realize that there were separate, more spacious wagons that demons could board. Not that he could understand why anyone, hellborn or not, would want to get into the damned thing. He certainly hadn’t.

Actually, Charles couldn’t recall ever boarding the train. As far as he could tell, he just appeared there one day, and had spent the next tortuous decades trying to get out. It was part of the torture. Getting out was entirely possible. More than that, it was necessary.

The train had no regular schedule that he could discern (not at first, though he had always been good at finding patterns, and was eventually able to crack it) but it would make quite a few stops before finally returning to the Wrath ring. Souls inside the train were already angry and far too close to each other (close, so close not even air could squeeze in) but when they got really violent was when the train made a stop.

Getting out didn’t mean you were free, no matter where you managed it, be it Sloth or Gluttony, Pride or Lust. No, as soon as the train finished its journey, you would appear back inside, in Wrath where you belonged, suffocating once again, getting ready to claw your way out for the millionth time.

Because if you didn’t get out, The Conductor would get you.

If he thought about it calmly, Charles could probably say that he got out of the train more times than not. Still, being caught by The Conductor once was bad enough, as there was no coal in Hell, and something had to serve as combustible. Souls could not burn to death, and the whole journey always felt longer than eternity when he was caught. Once it was over, he would be inside again, and fight with more desperation than before, not caring who stayed inside so long as it wasn’t him.

He couldn’t understand why anyone, hellborn or not, would want to get into the damned thing. He certainly hadn’t. But as the souls pushed and bit and clawed and punched their way out, Edwin boarded the train. And that wasn’t even the most groundbreaking revelation Charles had that day.

ko-fi

[nanaslutt]

on my knees begging and praying for more perv! geto🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🛐🛐🛐

Some PervyRoomate!Geto (and 1 perv Satosugu) drabbles for you :3

contains: voyeurism, stealing, fantasizing, Gojo makes an appearance, degradation, p*ssy eating, cumming untouched, restraints, masturbating, handjobs, unprotected sex, slight somno, overall creep behavior... pls be warned

note: i do not condone any of this irl :3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Perv!Geto who stands outside your door and jerks off to the sound of you getting your brains fucked out by your latest partner. If he closes his eyes and squeezed his fist hard enough he can almost imagine he’s the one fucking you. He’s timing his thrusts with the slaps he hears on the other side of the door to immerse himself deeper into his fantasy; and when you cum- he cums all over his hand while his other covers his mouth to prevent any moans from slipping through his lip.

Perv!Geto who steals your dirty panties, shirts, shorts--anything at all from your dirty clothes hamper and holds it up to his face to smell your scent while he jerks his cock furiously with his lip pulled between his teeth. You're just in the next room over, he can hear you giggling with Shoko at something funny she said, the sound spurring him on as he imagines you're laughing at him, at how pathetic he is for stealing your clothes to jerk off. Of course, when he cums he makes sure to make a mess all over the garment before he throws it back into your hamper. Maybe one day you would go searching through your dirty clothes and find the present he left for you and teach him a lesson for being such a perv.

Perv!Geto who sucks your fingers into his mouth while you ride him because he's been waiting for so long for this moment and he needs to taste you. Your neck, lips, thighs, hands- anything. He would gag and moan around your lithe fingers when they hit the back of his throat, jolting around in his mouth from the roughness of your thrusts on his too-sensitive cock.

Perv!Geto who sits on his knees with his hands tied behind his back, his heavy neglected cock and full balls hanging freely in the air as you grip his hair from his scalp and roughly shove his face into your cunt. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his face flushed a gorgeous crimson color as you fuck his face while degrading him, telling him how filthy and dirty he is for being such a creep to his poor unknowing roommate (you). He would cum untouched with a pathetic whine into your cunt at your mean words, as he continued to suck and flick his tongue as he brought you to orgasm.

Perv!Geto & Gojo who FaceTime late at night to talk about all the filthy things they would do to you while they jerk off together. Sometimes when you aren't home they sneak into your room and jerk each other off on your bed, working each other up as they dirty talk each other about what you would do to them if you were here. "Yeah? You like the way they stroke your cock? Huh?" Gojo would groan as he twists his hand over Geto's tip while the dark-haired man has his eyes squeezed shut, pretending its your hand. "Yeah cum inside her Gojo fuck, she wants it so badd~" Geto would whisper as Gojo came all over your nice clean pillow. The two of them constantly plotted on how they would get you in their beds.

Perv!Geto who would sneak into your room at night and jerk off to your sleeping body only clad in tiny shorts that showed half your ass and a crop top that your breasts spilled out of. He never touched you, but he would get close, seeing how far he could test the limits before his cute roomie woke up to a face full of cum. He would jerk off right over your face, his heart racing out of his chest when you stirred in your sleep, the fright making him back up as he cums hard in his hand, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as he tried to keep himself quiet.

Perv!Geto who would offer to stand behind you on the train while you wore a skimpy outfit so you didn't have to be pressed up against some olf perv. Little did you know he had the same intentions as them. He felt himself get hard as your ass bumped back agaisnt his crotch when the train ride got bumpy. He would pray for the time when you would lose your balance and almost fall so he could grab your waist in his massive hands to steady you. Your meek 'thank you Sugu' Going straight to his cock at how oblivious you were.

Perv!Geto who offered to sleep in your room to cuddle when your relationship ended. Who was he to leave you alone when you spilled the news to him with fat tears rolling down your cheeks, that made his cock twitch in his pants. He should feel bad about taking advantage of your vulnerable state right now, but how was he supposed to when your smaller frame was pressed right up against his body and his nostrils were filled with your scent from being smothered by your sheets? He wasn't able to stop himself from humping his hips into your ass when he felt your body relax agaisnt him, your breaths evening out as you slipped into dreamland while Geto used the friction of your soft ass to reach orgasm and cum hard in his pants.

Bonus: Perv!Geto who was more than happy to fuck you to back sleep when you awoke right when he released his load into his pants. Him getting off on you calling him needy while he fucked his next load into your cunt, not being able to stop himself from thinking how he wasted a perfectly good load in his boxers when he could've just woken you up and fucked it into your cunt as well :( How was he supposed to know you wanted him as much as he wanted you? You did break up with your boyfriend for him after all.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Baby fever

AN: I'm sure your shock has been imagined that I wrote this. I haven't even watched the video fully yet because I should be have been trying to work on my final assignments for the semester but, I've seen enough to prompt me to write this very impulsively. Apologies to all of the fics I was actively working on (glances at my 2Min drabble with apologetic eyes).

Synopsis: Seeing pictures and videos of your boyfriend with a baby inspires a stronger reaction from you than either of you could have anticipated.

Heads up: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem! Reader, established relationship, the plot is barely there if I'm being honest, dirty talk, usage of pet names, nipple play (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex for the first time, both Reader and Hyunjin cry at points, one mention of Reader worrying she'll draw blood from Hyunjin but no actual blood and it isn't referenced beyond that, very apparent breeding kink and talks about breeding, Hyunjin says mommy once in reference to making Reader a mum, creampie and dacryphilia kink if you squint.

Word count: 3765

I will block you if you are a minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You don't expect much when your phone buzzes with a notification from Felix. He always sends you messages throughout the day, even when he has a pretty packed schedule. Asking you how your day is, telling you about his and sending you short videos and funny pictures of the rest of the members that he manages to catch.

So when you open his message, you expect maybe a selfie with him and Chris or a video of Minho feigning annoyance at being recorded.

What you don't expect is to see Hyunjin. Well, that's not entirely true. Felix sends you pictures and videos of Hyunjin all of the time. What you don't expect is to see your boyfriend awkwardly and carefully holding an incredibly adorable, chubby baby.

He did mention a while ago now that he, Felix, and Jeongin were going to be on some variety show with children, but it had honestly slipped your mind. University has been eating you alive for the past month or so, so any space in your brain for anything that isn't response papers and projects has been minimal.

Now, as you as you sit at your desk with the Word document left untouched, all you can do is stare at the video of Hyunjin trying his best to soothe the baby. His hold on him is very clumsy and it makes you a little anxious but, it's all dwarfed by how softly your boyfriend looks at him and how his massive hands cradle the baby's tiny body to his. The smile on his face is positively radiant, and the little cooing sounds he makes do eventually draw a smile and giggle from the baby comfortably in his arms.

You don't think you've felt your heart constrict more in your chest ever in your entire life. Not even when he told you he loved you for the first time or when the two of you went on your first date or the first time you had sex. Sitting here, seeing him fumble his way through interacting with this baby and the unadulterated softness in his face, completely derails any other train of thought than wanting to have a baby of your own with him.

Which is absolute insanity.

Not only are the two of you nowhere near ready to be parents, your relationship is also not even a year old yet. You've spoken about children, and while you are on the same page, now is nowhere near the time.

Still, the more carnal part of your brain can't find it to care as you continue to scroll through the barage of pictures and videos Felix sent to you. An audible 'aw' leaving your lips when the baby's tiny hand wraps around your boyfriend's finger.

Yeah, there's no way you're getting any work done today.

You practically lunge at Hyunjin when he opens your front door. You swallow his noise of surprise greedily, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing him to the door he just barely manages to close. Despite being caught thoroughly off-guard, he kisses you back. His hands coming to rest on your hips.

"Not that I'm complaining," he breathes out once he separates himself from your lips, "but, what brought this on?"

"Lix sent me pictures and videos of you with a baby," you mutter against his neck as you kiss along the sensitive skin there. Your blood turning into molten heat in your veins as he squirms and whimpers against you. You're sure you're wet enough already to take him. You've been wet for what feels like hours now.

"Okay?" He says, blinking at you in confusion through the lust induced haze he was momentarily in.

"You looked really cute and happy."

He still doesn't seem to quite understand what about that would cause you to react like this.

"Seeing you with a baby was really attractive," you finally spell out for him.

"Attractive?!" He squeaks out, and you'd usually find that endearing and cause to smush his cheeks between your hands, but you're too highstrung right now.

"Yes," you breathe, resuming your kisses along on his neck, on part of his jaw until you reach his ear, "it was really, really attractive. I couldn't even focus on my work because all I could think about was you cumming inside of me and, putting a baby in me."

You're sure Hyunjin would have crumpled to your floor if he wasn't leaning against your door. He was blushing so hard you could feel the heat radiating off of him. You don't think you've ever seen him get this red, especially so quickly, ever.

"Wh-what?" Is all he can respond with and, in all fairness, you did drop a nuclear bit of information on the poor man, so this reaction isn't exactly unexpected.

You take one of his hands and slip it into the waistband of your shorts and panties, moaning quietly when his fingers come into contact with your soaked slit. Hyunjin isn't unaffected either if the glaze in his eyes and bob of his adam's apple are anything to go by.

"I've been so wet for you all day, Jinnie," you whine, your eyes fluttering slightly and your walls clenching when his fingers run along your folds all on their own.

"Fuck," he grits, catching you by surprise this time around and slamming his mouth into yours. This kiss is more carnal than the last one. It's all teeth and tongue and spit and, all you can do is fist his shirt to steady yourself while his nimble fingers stroke you. You're barely aware that he's pushing you backwards until you find yourself hitting your couch. His mouth remains firmly on yours as you two tumble onto it.

A disappointed whine leaves you when his hand leaves your panties and shorts. Your walls throb borderline painfully, and you feel acutely empty. "I'm sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you," he has the audacity to laugh, albeit hoarsely.

"Jinnie, I'm ready. Please, I want you inside of me. I'm beyond ready," you whimper, clutching onto his biceps. Giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pout while he clenches his jaw at your words.

"You're trying to kill me," he groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. From the pressure you feel on your thigh right now, you're sure your suggestion sounds tempting right now.

He kisses you more slowly this time. Savouring every brush and press of your lips against his own and, the two of you moan into each other as your tongues caress one another. You thought you'd won until you feel his hands impatiently tug your shirt up, exposing your breasts to the cool air of your apartment. His mouth descending down your neck, lavishing your throat with kisses and licks while you arch into him. Your hands tugging on his dark locks while he kisses down your body.

"Hyun-Hyunjin," you whimper, your hips jolting up into him when his breaths ghost over one of your hardened nipples.

"Are you sure you still want me to just fuck you?" Is all he says before you find your nipple enveloped by his mouth and your other breast in one of his hands.

You're sure you've soaked through your panties and are close to ruining your shorts from the way your wetness trickles out of you with every lick and suck of your boyfriend's sinful mouth. The vibrations from the groans he presses into you only make it all so much worse, along with the precise way his fingers tug and lightly pinch your other nipple.

Hyunjin would happily spend hours with his mouth and hands all over your breasts if history is any indication. However, as eyeroll and toe-curl inducing as this all feels, you're determined to get your way.

Your hands cup his face and pull him up to you. The frown on his thoroughly kissed lips almost makes you laugh, but you kiss him before the giggles get the better of you, and he complains about you ruining his time with your tits.

"Want you," you mutter against his lips, palming his erection through his jeans. The evidence of his want for you clear as day and heavy in your palm. You're tempted to just flip him over and sink down on him yourself.

"An-And I'm the one always being called impatient," he retorts with an affectionate roll of his eyes and kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"It's not my fault you looked so attractive," you respond with a shrug, biting back the complaint on the tip of the tongue when he peels away from you to tug off his shirt. God, you really must be the luckiest woman alive.

"I didn't think you'd be so into it," he says distractedly, impatiently tugging down his jeans and leaving him in nothing but his black boxers that cling in a horribly tempting way to his slender hips and, outline his hard cock.

You're not sure whether your mouth or pussy waters more.

Hyunjin flushes under your intense gaze, as if you haven't seen him naked more times than both of you could count. It still boggles your mind sometimes how your boyfriend can turn from confident, sexy and suave to an awkward, flustered mess in an instant. Well, that duality is among the multitude of reasons you're so irrevocably in love with him.

"You're staring," he mumbles, avoiding your gaze.

"It's not my fault you're so hot," you retort, delighting in the deepening blush on his cheeks. He's just too easy for his own good.

He just huffs in parts exasperation and embarrassment, choosing instead to focus on getting you naked. The playful atmosphere quickly dissipates as he hooks his thumbs into your shorts and panties, and you lift your hips to help him tug them off.

Once he's tossed them somewhere to join the heap of clothes littering your floor, Hyunjin settles himself between your thighs once more but, on his stomach this time. You really, really wish he'd just fuck you and before you're able to verbalise that thought, your boyfriend takes a slow, deliberate lick at you.

A strangled gasp flies from your lips and your hips jolt but, his large hands hold you firm. "Just let me do this for you, okay?" He asks, his stupid, pretty brown eyes boring into yours through his dark hair. His mouth hovers above you, as if waiting for some sort of response from you.

"Fuck, fine Jinnie, okay. Please, just do some-" your words are cut off by a choked sob when Hyunjin takes your words as a green light. His lips attached themselves to your poor clit, licking and sucking in ways that tighten the knots in your gut and causes your toes to curl. Your fingers weaving themselves into his hair and tugging, which prompts a whimper from your boyfriend. The vibrations making your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

A pitchy moans of his name fill the air of your apartment when his slender fingers toy with your entrance. Barely breaching your hole and you want to scream.

"Hyunjin," you whimper out, impatiently tugging on his hair.

"I'm sorry," he mutters against you with a smile and, pushes two of his fingers into you gradually.

They don't fill you nearly as much as you need but, they're better than nothing. That thought is particularly bolstered when he curls them inside of you, only needing a few moments before he finds the spot inside of you that makes your thighs quiver and your mind to go blank. Combined with his unrelenting ministrations on your poor, sensitive clit and how needy you've been for him all day, it all becomes too much so quickly.

"Hyun-Hyunjin, Jinnie. I- I'm-" You're not even sure what you're trying to articulate but, the jumbled mess of words seem to only motivate your boyfriend further. He curls his fingers harder and laps at your clit with renewed enthusiasm.

That's all it takes for everything to fracture.

You're sure the grip you have on Hyunjin's hair hurts but, you can't help it. Everything seizes and your walls spasm viciously, clamping down so harshly on Hyunjin's fingers he can barely keep curling them inside of you. Still, he tries. He's not as intense as he was moments ago but, still fingers you through your orgasm while his tongue gently laps up everything you give him.

You sag against your couch once your body relaxes. You're half certain you'd float up into the air if Hyunjin's grip on you wasn't still so strong. Speaking of your boyfriend, he does eventually unlatches himself from your hypersensitive clit. His hair is completely dishevelled, and you could already see a thin sheen of sweat on his flushed skin. His tongue pokes out to chase every bit of you he can on his bruised lips, his eyes dark.

You're sure he feels the way you clench around his fingers despite quite literally just cumming. He leans down to hungrily kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue that he pushes into your eager mouth. As if your mind isn't muddled enough. You moan into him when he very slowly pulls his fingers out of you. Now you feel so empty that it physically hurts.

"Jinnie," you plead, your fingers reaching down to toy with the waistband of his boxers. The muscles of his abdomen jumping with every brush of your fingers against them. One of his hands comes down to cup your jaw, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips.

"Fine, fine," he says after pulling away from you and tugging his boxers down. His cock bobs in the air between the two of you as he drops his boxers on your floor. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, and even more of your wetness leaks out of you, smearing your inner thighs.

Hyunjin gets up, and that kicks you out of the stupor you were in. Your hand shoots to grab his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Where are you you going?"

"To uh...get condoms?" He asks, confusion evident in both his voice and handsome face.

"Why?"

"Wh-Why?"

"Yeah, why? I'm okay with not using them if you are. I wasn't kidding when I said I really want you to cum inside of me."

Hyunjin closes his eyes then. Gritting his teeth before responding, "What about...y'know? Not that I don't want to have children with you eventually but-"

"Jinnie, I'm on the pill. I have been since I was a teenager."

That stops Hyunjin. His big, brown eyes blinking at you as if he can't quite believe that this is real. That this is happening.

You soften then, slipping your hand downwards to intertwine your fingers with his longer ones, "Hey, we don't have to if you don't want to. We can use condoms if that's what you're comfortable with."

That seems to only make your boyfriend flail harder, "No, no. It's not that I don't want to. Honestly, I've thought about it a lot," that makes you raise an eyebrow, "I've just never- I've just never done it without a condom before."

"Neither have I," you respond easily.

"Really?"

The look you give him is enough for Hyunjin to recognise what a dumb question that was, "Right, okay, sorry."

That seems to ease his anxieties significantly, he doesn't look nearly as tense as he did when you suggested the idea. You tug him down into another deep kiss, wrapping your arms around him as he resumes his place between your thighs. Gasps leaving both of you when his cock nudges at your very wet folds, the barely there pressure and searing heat causing your nails to dig into his shoulders.

"You're 100% sure about this right?" He asks once more, his eyes swirling with nervousness and desire.

While you appreciate how sweet he's being, you're seconds from pulling out your hair if he doesn't just fuck you right now. However, an idea comes to your mind to finally entice your boyfriend into fully letting go.

One of your hands reaches down until you reach the apex of your thighs, spreading your pussy for him to see just how sure you are.

"Yes, Jinnie. Fuck me, please."

Something in Hyunjin snaps then. His mouth swallowing your whimpers as he finally sinks into you. You can feel him practically vibrating with the effort to keep himself composed.

He's so hot inside of you. You're not sure sex has ever felt so intense. You've had him inside of you hundreds of times but, this...this is completely different. You swear you can feel everything. Every twitch and every throb and every vein as your walls melt around him. Before you know it, you're blinking away tears from how overwhelming it all is and pull him closer to you, wrapping your legs around him.

"Fuck, wait. Shit, don't do that. Don't move," he chokes out into the hollow of your throat, his own hold on your hips growing harsh and his cock twitching repeatedly inside of you.

"Jinnie, move," you whine into his ear, you can barely recognise yourself. You sound so foreign to your own ears but, from the way Hyunjin's hips slightly jolt and he mutters a string of curses against your skin, he might be into this new state of fucked out you've managed to achieve.

You thought it couldn't be even intense, but then Hyunjin moves, and you're pretty sure your visions goes black at the edges for a few seconds. There's no way to tell who moans louder but, you both press your noises into each other's skin all the same. Your nails drag down his back so hard that you're briefly worried that you might have drawn blood.

"Baby," Hyunjin whimpers out, thrusting into you slowly and shallowly, barely satisfying either of you, "Baby, I need you to relax. I-I won't last if you don't."

His words only instinctively make you tighten around him, made all the worse since he's so deeply nestled of you. Your walls massaging him and generously coating him in your slick.

"I want it, Jinnie. I don't care, please," you don't know what's possessed you but, the realisation that he very really could fill you with his cum hits you like a train. You pull him even closer to you, "Fuck me all you want. Cum inside of me all you want. Breed me all you want, Jinnie."

Something broken and feral slips from his lips, his teeth ghost over your throat as he fucks into you without abandon. The sounds of your skin colliding and your respective sounds of pleasure echoing all throughout your living room, and probably throughout your entire apartment.

"Yeah? Want me to fuck my baby into you?" He grits out possesively, "Want me to make you swollen with my ba-baby and make you a mommy?"

"Please, yes, Jinnie," you moan, holding onto him for dear life as he seems determined to make his words a reality. Both of you completely lost in each other and delirious.

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck," he moans against your shoulder in-between kisses that are more spit and tongue than anything else. "Fuck. Gonna cum. Gonna fill you up with my cum until it's leaking out of you for days. Gonna breed you so good," he slurs, his heavy pants joining the symphony of sounds currently playing through your living room. You're certain you'll have bruises on your hips in the morning but, you couldn't care less. You want it. You want it more than anything.

It's always easy to tell when Hyunjin is about to cum. Your boyfriend isn't exactly great at hiding his emotions, and from the increase in the frequency of curses and moans and the way he holds onto you, you know he's teetering on the edge. You are, too, if you're being honest, but you're more invested in him falling apart. A choked sob of your name is the only warning you receive before you feel his cock twitch inside of you incessantly and warmth flooding your awaiting pussy.

You're surprised to feel some wetness on your shoulder and, concern trumps any other emotion when you register that. Your hands reach to cup his face, a few stray tears streaking his flushed cheeks.

"Hey, Jinnie baby, is everything okay?"

It takes him a few moments to find the words to respond to you, and you rub your thumb soothing on his cheek while you wait for him patiently.

"I-I-I don't think I've e-ever cum so hard. It-It was really i-intense," he hiccups out, nuzzling into your grasp.

Oh.

Well, that puts the tears on his face into a very different light and, perhaps you've discovered another new thing about yourself today.

"I'm sorry. I got a little...out of control at the end there," he mutters, his face speeding from pink to red as he avoids your gaze studiously.

"Jinnie, you have nothing to apologise for," you tug him towards you and plant featherlight kisses on his cheek, "It was really fucking hot, if I'm being honest."

That only makes your boyfriend blush harder and seek refuge in your shoulder after groaning in embarrassment. The movement quickly reminds you that he's still very much inside of you right now and that his cum is slowly starting to trickle out of you but, you feel too boneless to even entertain the idea of getting up right now.

"I'm still surprised seeing me with a baby resulted in all of this," he says after his embarrassment subsides, his fingers tracing nonsensical patterns on your thigh.

"Wouldn't see me with a baby make you feel the same way?"

He seems to ponder on that for a little bit before replying, "Fair point. You know, when we do eventually have one of our own, I hope they have your eyes."

This stupid man and the way he makes your heart race.

"Well, I hope they have your eyes and your pouty lips and your dimples," you retort, feeling very, very shy all of a sudden as though this isn't happening because of you.

"We'll just have to have more than one then. You know, just to make sure they get all of the traits we want them to get," he has the nerve to grin at you.

"Hyunjin!" You cry, scandalised, warmth flooding your face. However, you can't deny that a bunch of children with his smile and kind eyes doesn't sound like the such a bad idea.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[cheollipop]

HIII :D

Can you write a little drabble about dom Yunho and fem reader ignoring eachother after an argument and so y/n comes up with a plan to tease Yunho while he’s busy ignoring her and playing video games and then he ends up getting worked up and it then leads to rough sex 🙈 (sorry if this is too much lol)

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

hi anonnie!! this... thisssssss egsjbks omg gamer bf!yunho AND mad!yunho?? yummy YUMMY- ahem, this was very fun to write, and i may have gone a bit overboard with it oopsie. also, been in a playful mood lately, so you get bratty!reader~ happy reading ^^

pairing: jeong yunho x fem!reader

w.c.: 1.6k

tags: smut, oral (m), make-up sex, lots of cum talk bc... teehee, yunho's kinda mad but turns soft, reader's a little brat ><

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

Eyes trained on the screen before him, spattered splotches of red masking his point of view as his player failed to block the incoming stream of bullets, his fingers stuttering over his keyboard as loud yelling blasted into Yunho’s ears, his friends’ voices contained within the worn-down cushions of his headset. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance, partly because of the insults being thrown his way as he struggled to aim his sniper, but mainly at his inability to recall how the argument he’d had with you a couple hours ago had even started. He wracked his brain for an answer, but all he came up with was the menacing smile stretching your lips when you walked into the room hours after he’d stormed off, opting to bully eleven-year-olds online with his friends, camping at their spawn point and watching them grow frustrated with his unfair tactics.

The situation flipped, though, once your smile disappeared underneath his desk, your body hidden under the polished wood, and Yunho nearly cursed at the missed view of your delicate hands undoing the strings of his sweatpants. He wasn’t mad at you, he could never be, even more so when you had your fingers wrapped around his cock, tongue drawing circles around his head and collected the occasional spurts of precum as he grew harder in your grasp. He shuffled in his seat, containing a groan before it could leave his lips when you took his length down your throat, your lips meeting the digits wrapped around his girth before pulling off for air. Yunho wasn’t sure how many games he’d lost so far, only that his friends were growing frustrated with his silence, but he didn’t dare speak, knowing his voice would give away the nature of the situation he was in.

Brushing off the blonde locks obscuring his vision, he attempted to return to his position at the enemy’s base, only for you to flatten your tongue along the underside of his cock while sliding him back into your mouth, waiting until the tip prodded at your uvula before swallowing around it. To his luck, the startled grunt drawn out of him aligned with his teams’ nth loss, and his friends returned to their endless berating.

You pulled off him again, resting your head high enough on his thigh to stare up at his flushed face over the edge of his desk—eyes glazed over and unfocused as they gazed back at you, his lips bitten raw and a pretty rose tinting his neck and the sliver of his chest peeking at you over his collar. Your hand remained on him to smear your saliva down his length, squeezing at his base and back up to twirl around his cockhead, all while watching his composure slowly breaking down and his impatience seep into his features. With hesitation, you moved your eyes off him and to the pretty, bright pink painting his angry tip while it leaked translucent liquid that mingled with your spit, leaning forward to lick a stripe over the throbbing vein decorating his shaft.

You heard deft fingers pressing over the keycaps followed by the loud clang of his headset hitting the wooden desk, his thighs retracting as he rolled his chair back, and his hands squeezed around your biceps to hold you up. Forcefully pulling you to your feet with him, the snarky remark died on your tongue as he pushed back onto the bed, a sudden exhale blowing out of your lungs when you landed under him.

“Had your fun?” the deep baritone sent a shiver down your spine. Looking up at him, you took in the sweat pilling on his forehead, and you unsuccessfully attempted to wiggle out of the grasp he had around your wrists.

You bent your knee enough to dig into his hanging cock, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards when he jerked back. “Seems like you did too.”

You saw his eyebrow twitch again before a firm hand grabbed at your jaw, his other hand working your bottoms down your legs, two fingers pushing between your walls before you could even think of a retort. But you simply giggled, amused by how worked up you’d managed to get Yunho. You pecked the palm covering your lips, breathing out airy moans as he repeatedly pressed his fingers into your g-spot. He scissored his fingers, watching hot arousal dripping out of your cunt to seep into his duvet, cursing under his breath while using it to lube himself up.

“Can’t believe you,” he mumbled after releasing your jaw, leaning down to press himself flush with your chest, hands on your hips while he sunk into you, a melody of grunts and moans bouncing off the walls as he ground into your pussy, making sure you took every last inch of him. “Fuuuck, so fucking tight for me, aren’t you? Even when you’re being a brat,” he pressed his lips to the smile stretching yours.

Your smile wavered, playfulness fading away as you held his face to gaze into his hooded eyes, “are you still mad?”

Your whisper halted his insistent grinding, sparing you from the delicious glide of his cockhead over your walls to press a kiss to your forehead, “I could never be mad at you, sweetheart. I’m sorry it seemed that way,” the hands holding your hips wrapped around you, one cradling the back of your head and the other on your lower spine, holding you so close you could hear his racing heartbeat.

You knew this didn’t solve the problem, and that you’d have to sit down and talk about it again soon, but Yunho’s hold—so warm and tender—set a veil of tranquillity over your moving bodies and erased any significance tied to your previous argument.

But Yunho was still desperate, brimming lust mingling with his desire to make love to you, his hold gentle and yet his hips were merciless. He slammed his cock into your cunt, breathy ah's blowing over the side of you neck while he drew out orgasm after orgasm from you, his length pulsating within your heat as pleasure seared through your bodies. Your thighs trembled around him, and your hips ached when he flipped you over, grabbing your ass to pull you back onto his cock while his other hand pushed your head down into the mattress, taking what he needed from you and revelling in the sweet moans he got in return.

Overstimulation mingled with pleasure, and you tuned out your surroundings save for the choked grunts Yunho blew against the shell of your ear, the flesh of your ass growing raw with his repetitive thrusts, the back of his thighs slapping roughly against your skin.

“gonna come,” he panted, “gonna fill you up all the way, yeah baby?”

You rambled incoherently into the sheets, the hand holding your head down tangling into your hair until dull pain shot through your scalp. Moaning a succession of “yes” and “please,” Yunho held you in place while he emptied thick ropes of his cum between your fluttering walls, doing just as he said he would: filling you up all the way, until the heat spread into your womb.

Yunho brushed the hair off your face to watch your pupils disappear, rutting his softening cock into you to push you further over the edge, aiding you down from your high with skilled rolls of his hips and kisses peppered over your skin, groaning at the tight squeeze of your cunt around him. When overstimulation jerked your body away from his grasp, you reached back with heavy limbs to push at his hips, sighing once his thick length slid out of you, and you missed the string of cum connecting his cockhead to your leaking hole. But Yunho eyed it until it broke, sliding his hands up your spine and flattening his body over yours, his weight held up by the elbows digging into the mattress by your head.

Pressing kisses to every patch of skin he could reach, yunho brushed away your tears with the plush of his lips, kissing over your shut eyelids while breathing in your uneven exhales. His pretty angel, he couldn’t believe how beautiful you were, especially after you’d milked him dry, always so beautiful when you were stuffed full of his cum. Covered in sweat, shirt sticking to your trembling figure, your cunt oozing the translucent liquid while it clenched uselessly around the chill air.

You craned your neck to look at the man hovering over you, clothed chest brushing over your back with every breath he drew in. He looked just as ruined—a pretty flush painting his cheeks, eyes soft and brimming with adoration as they mooned over your expression. You wondered what face you were making, and why it seemed make him so starstruck.

“We good?” You breathed out into the air between you, a hopeful glimmer in your eyes.

Yunho focused on the spit drying over your lips, the line of drool going down to your chin reflecting the light from his monitor. His cock twitched in interest where it lay snug between his lower belly and your ass, and he rolled his hips experimentally, your sweet arousal around the hardening length gliding smoothly over your skin.

He hummed, meeting your hopefulness with an innocent smile, though the hint of slyness hidden within the gesture did not go unnoticed. Rolling his hips once more, he enveloped your body completely, resting some of his body weight over you while he whispered in your ear, a dribble of his cum seeping out of you as you squeezed around nothing.

“I think I might need a little more convincing.”

[itsbubbleteataro]

It's currently storming and here's a little fun fact about me, I'm terrified of thunder. So here's a little hurt comfort Drabble with a reader who's spooked during thunderstorms. Please enjoy! Ps. The next part of "The Radio Host and The Reporter" is in my drafts ∩^ω^∩

Rain Rain go Away

Paring: Alastor x Fem!reader

Warnings: possible ooc Alastor

You've never been a fan of thunderstorms. Quite unfortunate considering that when you were alive you lived in an area that tended to get hit hard by thunderstorms when they did happen. Back then Alastor didn't know this till he found you burrowed under blankets like a small mammal.

This night was no different. It was a rare night in hell and a thunderstorm was raging on outside. As soon as your doe like ears picked up on the first sign of rain, you tensed.

"Hey (y/n) you good toots?"

Angel dust asked, snapping you out if your train of thoughts. Your ears were pinned back as you managed a smile and stood up.

"Yeah Angel. I'm okay"

And with that you left. You took a very shaky breath as you walked up the stairs. Of course Alastor had left to go see Rosie a few hours ago, none of you known it would rain. You just hoped it wouldn't end up a thunderstorm.

*****

Alastor was mid sip when his ear flicked, moments before rain started pouring down. He put his tea cup back down on its saucer. His ear closest to the window kept facing it, listening for signs of thunder while he kept facing Rosie. His smile was still casual as he listened at the latest gossip Rosie had been talking about. 

"Oh and Suzan came by. Still brutish as ever, came to me because she ended up eating her husband, can you bealive that?"

"Well it is Suzan Rosie, that woman even has me at the end of my rope"

Alastor's ear flicked and his grip tightened on the handle of his teacup. Moments later a blinding flash of light struck a tall tower, and a rumbling crack echoed down the streets.

His ears flicked downward and to the side for a moment before returning to their normal position. It was enough to tip off Rosie however,

"Oh go on Alastor. If you need to leave I'm sure it's important"

Rosie flashed him her usual smile, waving her hands in a shooing motion.

Alastor's eyes softened for a moment.

"Thank you Rosie. We'll have to catch up some other time. Thank you for the tea"

With that, Alastor shadow warped out of Rosie's emporium and into the lobby of the hotel. His ears flicked, the wind seemed to be stronger here and the rain pounded against the walls. A second crack of thunder seemed to shake the building.

"Oh wow this is a rough storm. I should go check on (y/n) she left a little while ago-"

"No need Charlie, I'll do it myself"

Vaggie looks up at Alastor for a moment raising an eyebrow before nodding and placing a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Let's go check on Angel dust instead. Does that sound good sweetheart?"

Charlie nods her head and the two of them walk down the hall, husk makes brief eye contact with Alastor before taking a bottle of cheep booze back to his room. Thunder shakes the hotel again and Alastor makes his way up the stairs. No one is around so he makes no effort in trying to conceal the urgency in his steps.

Alastor pushes open the door to your shared room, his eyes looking around for you. His ears flick as it thunders again, drawing out a whimper from within the bayou that he had materialized in his room.

Taking a blanket off the bed he walks through the bayou, going in a bit deep, following the hoof prints you had left behind. He finds you, sitting on a log, hands over your ears.

****

Shaking, you hear someone approaching. Alastor was making his movements known to you. Raising your head you look up at him, taking your hands off your ears and placing them in your lap. His eyes a softness reserved for only when the two of you were alone.

As if ok que, the crack of thunder shook the hotel, although it seemed a bit softer out in the bayou. You squeaked, curling up into a ball. Alastor sat next to you on the log. Since you've died and gained your doe like appearance, you've found that your hearing has gotten better. Your ears are pinned back in fear.

Your body uncurls itself as Alastor drapes a blanket he had gotten from the bed over your shoulders and pulled you into his lap.

"Oh my doe, my sweet doe. Come here. The thunder shouldn't last much longer"

You nod your head. The two of you spending the rest of the night in eachother's embrace while Alastor talked on and on about his day, taking your mind off the rain pounding in the only window in his room.

Soon enough you were starting to drift off to sleep in his embrace. Picking you up, he stood up with a hum. The last thing you saw before you fell into a peaceful slumber was him, smiling softly with gentle eyes,

"See my doe? I told you it would pass"

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | First Kiss

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF's Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: angst!, mutual pining comes to a head, or more accurately to lips, aka kissing Word Count: 1.8k (ok it's a little more than a drabble) Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend's little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That's it. How did this happen?

A/N: Hi, I'm back. This is the first vignette that's not from an ask but just from my own head. I just really wanted to write their first kiss, so I did! I hope you enjoy. 🥰

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It's You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

A few weeks after Halloween, Hongjoong invites everyone to a friend’s deejaying gig on the other side of town. Your roommate opts out, saying she’d rather spend one of her rare nights off at her boyfriend’s, so you, San, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong check it out together.

After the gig ends, your ears still ringing, feet aching from all the dancing you did, the four of you make your way home. Wooyoung and Hongjoong both seem hyped from the show, talking excitedly as you wait for the train. You watch them with a fond smile, leaning against the wall and taking turns lifting your feet to take some of the pressure off. 

San joins you. “You okay, Noona?” 

“Yeah. Just wore the wrong boots tonight,” you say. “Didn’t realize we’d be dancing so much.” 

“Oh, yeah. I guess I could’ve warned you,” San grins. “Sorry. We’re not the type to sit through a set.” 

“Clearly,” you reply, smiling back. Honestly, you’d been pleasantly surprised at how well San and his friends dance. They were so free with their movements and their energy had been infectious. You couldn’t have stood still if you’d tried. 

Of course, now you’re paying for it, wincing as your throbbing feet scream at you. You shuffle again, and then, ever-so-gracefully, you lose your balance, tipping over, letting out a loud expletive that draws everyone’s attention. 

Hongjoong and Wooyoung cackle as San grabs your arm, pulling you back upright. 

“No worries, Noona, I’ve got you.” 

He murmurs the words reassuringly, arm sliding from yours to loop around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side, but only for a second, before he scolds the other two for laughing so much. You giggle along as Wooyoung and San pretend to fight, but your heart’s not in it, because it’s still yearning painfully for San to hold you again. Every time he touches you - hugs you goodbye, cuddles with you on the couch, even the briefest moments of contact like just now - it leaves this black hole inside your chest, an endless gnawing need for more and more and more. 

At some point, you won’t be able to withstand it anymore. You’re not sure what will happen then.

The train car is crowded when your group enters. Unfortunately for your tired feet, there's nowhere to sit, and blessed little space to stand, so everyone splits up, trying to find room for themselves. Except for San, who guides you towards the opposite doors with a gentle touch on your back, and then stands beside you, reaching overhead to hold on while your hands curl around a pole. 

Some creepy guy already too close on your right leans over, trying to get an eyeful of your chest, and San smoothly slides around, blocking you from the asshole’s view. You smile gratefully, and he gives you an intimidating look but undercuts his mean mugging with an eyebrow wiggle, and you giggle, which then makes him grin, a chain reaction of happiness that leaves you buzzing. 

The gentle sway of the car as it hurdles down the tracks shakes you. You bump into San with a horribly steady rhythm, feeling sheepish for not having a strong enough core to keep yourself upright and balanced for more than a second at a time. He just laughs, finally throwing an arm around your back to help.

His hold is light, leaving a big sliver of air between you, a respectful distance that frankly makes you wish he’d be disrespectful. But he maintains it, supporting you in the most polite way, and somehow it still makes your heart jump fast as the wheels spinning beneath your feet.  You turn your head, focusing on the window on the door, watching your reflection as the dark tunnels roll by. 

At the next stop, more people pack themselves into the car. The small bubble of space around you pops as the wave of humanity rolls you into San, and you bring your hands up, bracing yourself against his chest, eyes widening at the solid warmth beneath your fingertips. 

“Shit, sorry, sorry.” You apologize profusely, trying to step away, but the train jerks again, jostling you, and San tightens his grip, pulling you back into his arms. 

“It’s ok,” he mutters, in a quiet voice. “I told you. I’ve got you.” 

When your gazes meet, it’s like the air has been sucked from the car. Something shimmers in his dark eyes as they roam your face, and you utter his name unthinkingly, a tiny “San” just slipping from your open mouth, but it feels like a rogue confession of something you’ve been denying for so long. You’re not sure if he heard it but he definitely saw it because he’s been staring at your lips for a few seconds now.

You lean in at the same time he tilts his chin forward, and your mouths meet in the middle. A light kiss, feather soft, like testing the waters. The next one lingers, his lips firmer against yours. His hand splays on your back. You twist your fingers into the front of his t-shirt. 

A third press weakens your knees, as his mouth slots against yours. Lips move together, part, allowing him to breathe in your little gasp. 

The train emerges from the tunnel, and suddenly the lights in the car blast on as it comes to a slow stop at the next station. Immediately, you spring back, and so does San. 

His expression is searing, and you glance away, looking to see if any of your friends are nearby, but the only one you can glimpse is Hongjoong. He’s got his back to you, a few feet and a dozen people away. 

When the train starts up again, a few riders lighter, San loosens his grip, hand gliding up to a spot between your shoulders, far from the small where it had just been resting. By the time you reach your stop, his arm is more hovering than touching.

You and San find Hongjoong a few feet ahead of you when you depart. Wooyoung’s still on the train, since his place is closer to the next stop. Hongjoong slows his quick stride enough for you to catch up. 

“You guys up for some ramen?” he asks, like he always does on late nights like this. You and San look at each other, and you don’t know if it’s the dim streetlights or what, but you can’t read his expression.

“Nah, I’m good,” San answers.

“I think I’m just gonna go to bed,” you start to say at the same time, cutting off to let San finish and then repeating yourself with a nervous laugh.

“‘Kay.” Hongjoong bears the rejection with his usual nonchalance. “I’ll see you later.” He crosses the street, heading for the convenience store on the next block. 

And it’s just the two of you now, walking in silence. Two more blocks and you’ll be home. One more block. Just up the stairs now. Key in door, door closed, shoes off. 

You stare at each other. He blinks first.  

“Should we - “

“Did you want to - “

“Hey guys.” 

Your roommate comes padding out of the kitchen, cup of tea in hand. 

“Hey!” you nearly shout. “I thought you were staying over at Jongho's?” 

If she’s surprised by the volume of your voice, Haneul doesn’t show it. She shrugs. “Yunho was being annoying, so I left.” 

Yunho is Jongho’s roommate. He’s rarely at their apartment on the weekends. Just your luck that this would be the one night a year he strikes out and goes to his own bed instead of someone else’s.

Or maybe it’s for the best. Because it’s not too late to stop now before you do something else. Something potentially foolish. Let it just be a kiss. A one-time loss of rationality. Of caution. 

Even if you can’t stop thinking about that night at the bar. Sitting there with San’s arms wrapped around you just felt so right. 

Even if it’s been ages since you felt this way about someone. 

Even if you’re pretty sure you’re falling for San. 

“Are you going to bed or are you gonna stay up for a bit?” Haneul asks, taking a seat on the couch. 

“Um…” you fight the impulse to glance at San. “I don’t know. I’m not really tired or anything….” Truth be told, you’re a little wired now. “Why?” 

“I was thinking of starting that new drama Jongho told us about. Wanna join me?” She pats the space next to her.

San mumbles something about taking a shower. You watch him leave the room, and it feels like whatever happened on the train is already fading away. Did it really happen, or was it just a dream? Are your fantasies bleeding over into your waking hours now? 

San joins you and Haneul near the end of the first episode, taking a spot on the floor in front of the couch so he can stretch out. He looks so soft, with his dark hair freshly fluffed from a towel, dressed in his favorite hoodie and sweats, and it’s a struggle to keep your focus on the television and not wonder what would’ve happened had Haneul not been home.

Part of you wishes San would catch you looking. But you’re not sure you could handle it if you met his gaze right now and didn’t find what you were hoping to find. 

It’s actually a little odd how quiet he is, staring so intently at the show that you are completely ignoring. Is he doing the same thing you are, replaying the moment in his mind? Trying to freeze it in your memory?

Your stomach drops as you consider another possibility. What if he thinks the kiss was a mistake? 

By the time the third episode is over, you’re exhausted, from your night out but also from the mental gymnastics you’ve been performing, silently twisting yourself into knots thinking about San and the train and what could happen versus what should. So you excuse yourself for the safety of your bedroom, where you can dream in peace.

Nero’s already curled up on his favorite spot on your bed, right next to where you lay your head. He cracks an eye open as you flop down beside him, and you reach out to give him an apologetic scritch, when you catch a scrap of paper poking out from beneath him. A note, with San's handwriting. He must’ve slipped it on your pillow after his shower. The first sentence sends relief flooding through you.

I don’t regret it. 

But it’s what’s written next that has you rereading the note over and over. It’s a simple sentence, just a pleading command, but to you, it’s a revelation. 

Please tell me you want more too.

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[spennsrs]

schlatt x reader that loves schlatt when he's put on a couple pounds :(( reader holding him from behind and just kissing his back when he doesn't have a shirt on in the kitchen or smth. "you're so beautiful, yknow that?" i have brainrot ‼️‼️ schlatt not believing reader so reader just has to keep praising schlatt every chance they get so they keep leaving little post it notes around the mirror about his body :(((((

(\ (\ („• ֊ •„) ━O━O━━━━━━━━━ ・:。YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ︳jschlatt x reader drabble ︳fluff ︳self indulgent bc i jst wanna tell schlatt how handsome he is :(( also MY BFFIE REQUESTING <3 /p + reader can cook rly well and they Feed our boy well

the house was quiet, the bedroom dark with drawn curtains. it was late at night... or maybe early in the morning?

schlatt didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care. he couldn't sleep. he didn't even know why he was up still.

it was probably silly. maybe it was the cause of his recent insomnia. there were great things about having a significant other who could outcook even the likes of gordan ramsey. well, at least schlatt thought so. said great things include being well fed and eating incredible food.

but there were also bad things. well, bad thing. he did let his walls down a little when he and [y/n] started dating, yet he wasn't one to voice his insecurities often. his main insecurity was the reason he was staring at the full-length mirror on the back of the door into the bedroom.

his weight.

schlatt stares at himself in the reflective object shirtless, careful to not break the silence the night brought to the shared bedroom. reflections were a weird thing, mirrors in general were weird. maybe vampires were on the right track with the no reflection thing. his hand rests on his stomach, pushing, poking gently... he wasn't necessarily angry or unjustly sad, just as much as he wasn't.. happy with how he looked. with a soft sigh, his hand falls to his side again and his gaze never breaks from the mirror. his eyes over examine every part of his body visible to his gaze, and oddly enough... that's when he spots it, on the corner of the mirror. was that... a sticky note? multiple? his hand reaches up to gently yank the papers down, reading the handwriting.

'you are so absolutely amazing' 'you're beautiful the way you are, inside and out' 'do you realize how incredibly handsome you are?' 'if you could see what i see, maybe you would understand why it is so easy to love you for who you are'

schlatt felt like he was going to cry. no had ever said such... gentle words to him, nor had words ever touched him like this did. he kept reading the words, then rereading... it was almost too good to be true. he knew he was way lucky in the significant other department, scoring someone as fantastic as [y/n] was a mystery he would never understand, and chose not to.

a warm pair of hands draw him from his train of thoughts, jumping a bit as his eyes are drawn to the mirror before him. schlatt could see the familiar arms of his lover wrapped around him, their left wrist adorned with the silver bracelet he had gotten them for their two year anniversary.

"did i wake you, sleepyhead?"

his voice is soft, and it's tinged ever so slightly with emotion as his hand comes up, gently caressing their arm. there's some movement against his back, and he deciphers its his lover shaking their head. that's good, at least he didn't disturb them.

"you're beautiful, jay." schlatt feels his heart constrict at those words. of course they knew. they had a way of reading schlatt like a book, often picking up on his turmoil on certain topics before he even knew himself. a small smile tugs at his lips as he pats their arm. no words came from him, none needed to. "no matter what you look like, what you sound like, or what you do, you will always be beautiful to me, and i'll always love you."

and maybe... just maybe... in that moment, schlatt could let himself believe it was true, because the love of his life said so. who was he to deny their words?

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon 2 Prompt #9

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Prompt: Fully conscious, hypnotized Dabi entering a scene with Shigaraki. He is forced to put on an outfit that he finds humiliating. 

Contents: Non-con/Dub-con, hypnosis, feminization, lingerie, humiliation, cock and ball torture, riding crop, spanking, masochism, sadism. 

When Shigaraki called Dabi to his room after a day full of meetings that Dabi barely wanted to attend in the first place, he hadn't been very pleased. He wanted to go back to his room and sleep, maybe find something to take the edge off of this weird, awful headache that has been starting to bloom behind his eyelids since they were starting to wrap-up their business this afternoon. But he has been summoned by their Grand Commander, so he goes when he's called. He can't get away with the kind of insubordination that he used to when the League was smaller, not when any of his dissent could ripple out among their troops. 

He knocks on  the door lightly, not wanting to draw attention to the fact he's being pulled aside to have a talking to, and after just a second, Shigaraki opens the door. 

"Welcome back." 

Dabi knows that Shig's brain has been a little more scrambled than normal because of his trips to the monster maker, but they just saw each other earlier today, and he hasn't left base since. "Uh-huh, whatever, you creep." He steps into the bedroom and find that the lights are low and there is a... metronome sitting beside Shigaraki's bed. It's ticking out its even beat and that headache that Dabi had before is starting to ache through him even more fiercely. He doesn't know what's wrong with him, only that, whatever it is, it's making him feel like his body is swaying to that sound out of his control. 

"Do you remember why I called you here?" Shigaraki asks, letting the lock to his bedroom door side shut with a heavy click. The sound of that makes Dabi's head throb. 

Do you remember? You'll remember everything I've done to you when you hear this sound.

The tick, tick, tick of the metronome feels like it's echoing off of his skull, around it, making each beat batter against the wall in his mind that... that Shigaraki put there. That the other man used one of his secret new quirks to wall away the... ways that he's been bringing Dabi right back to this room to... hurt him for months now. Dabi does not tremble when the memories of that come flooding back. He does not waver when he knows that he is not going to get out of this room without being violated again. He holds his spine straight when he feels his quirk locked away under his skin from one of the bastard's old commands. 

"Fuck you, Shigaraki." He is allowed to speak. The fucker wants to hear how much he hates the things that he makes his body do. Nothing ever makes him fuck him harder than hearing Dabi snarl into his sheets how much he wants him dead for the things he does to his body. 

Duster comes around in front of him and Dabi is expecting it when he slaps him across the face so hard that his staples cut the inside of his cheek. "Someday, you're going to learn how to behave without me having to force you." Like hell. Shigaraki reaches down and cups his cock through his pants and Dabi wants to scream, wants to cry, because Shigaraki never ordered him to get aroused, but his stupid cock has been so well-trained by the other man's cruelty already that he's starting to harden. "See? Look at how much your body wants this. If you could just learn to behave when I give it to you, then you wouldn't have to be such a passive passenger during our encounters, firefly. If you could behave outside of our bed, I might even let you ask for special treatment in it." 

"I don't want anything from you." He snarls. There aren't many rules that Shigaraki has written into his body for these encounters, just three: Dabi cannot call attention to what they are doing in any way, he can not use his body or quirk to hurt himself or Shigaraki, and he must comply with any order directly given to him by Shigaraki. Everything else, the bastard said, he wanted to be Dabi's genuine reactions. He wanted Dabi to know that over time, his body has begun to crave the hard fuck the monster abusing him will give. 

Shigaraki squeezes his cock again. "You're being so bratty today, and I think that little brats should be put into their place. Luckily for you, I was anticipating that you would need to be punished today." 

Oh no. If Shigaraki was planning this instead of it being a spur of the moment thing, then Dabi is going to get fucked six ways to Sunday. 

"Strip." 

"I'm going to find a way to burn you alive for this." He isn't sure that he has much more of a window on that time now. When Shigaraki finishes his treatments, he's going to be completely fireproof and able to regenerate. If Dabi wants to have his revenge, then he has to take it before he goes into the tank, and he can't do that if he can't even remember wanting to burn the man once he leaves this room each time. 

"You're just making your punishment worse." Shigaraki tells him as he moves over to his closet to retrieve whatever new torture implements he's gotten to use on Dabi's body. 

He reluctantly strips down until he's completely naked and hates the fact that his cock is more than half hard already with his body's anticipation. 

Shigaraki clicks his tongue as he comes back out into the room, moving up behind Dabi's body and reaching around him with one hand to fondle his body, fingers gliding over his balls and along his cock before his hand falls away. "Spread your legs, brat." 

Dabi doesn't want to but his body has no choice but to comply. He stands with his legs wide under him and waits. There is a sharp whistle that goes through the air, and then pain explodes in his crotch and puts stars behind his eyes before he even hears the snap. Dabi's hands go to is cock, his balls throbbing as Shigaraki runs the riding crop against his knuckles as he tries to protect himself from another hit, his stomach rolling from the pain. 

"Naughty boy, I didn't tell you that you could touch yourself. Hands off." 

"I fucking hate you," Dabi is not about to start crying, but it's a close thing. He's not even sure if it would be the pain or the helplessness that would put tears on his cheeks, but it's sitting on the edge of his composure. 

"Such a brat," the next hit is just a little tap against his sore balls. "Especially when it's so clear that your slutty body likes it when I hurt you. I should have guessed. You couldn't even stay soft the first time I raped your tight little cunt," Shigaraki has moved right up behind him, body pressed against his own, so Dabi can feel how his cock is half hard, before his hand is squeezing at Dabi's again, showing them both, humiliatingly, that the pain didn't lessen Dabi's arousal. He's completely erect now, biting his lip hard as the touch feels like a balm against the hypersensitive, aching flesh. 

It takes him a second for his ears to fully process Shigaraki's words, his face going so hot. He fucking hates it when Shigaraki wants to play with him in this kind of scene because it means--

"Such a desperate little whore that you're not even going to be able to fit in your pretty panties tonight, baby girl." 

"I'm not a girl, you fucking pervert!" 

Shig's hand disappears from his crotch and the riding crop comes back hard again in the next second and Dabi lets out a cry, frustrated, pained tears misting over his vision. 

"You're whatever I say you are." He snarls back, moving away from his body and all but throwing the fabric he's selected at him. "And you're going to get dressed." 

His body picks up the clothes. His body doesn't tremble or hesitate to start pulling them over his skin as he stands in the center of the room while Shigaraki stands at the foot of his bed with the crop in hand. Dabi doesn't know if he hates his body more or Shigaraki's eyes as they linger on it as he pulls on a little lacy red bralette and a short, pleated skirt, so short that with his cock still hard, it doesn't even hang low enough to cover the aching curve of his balls. Humiliation screams over his nerves. He hates it when the other has time to prepare to torture him. It always means that he's going to be dressed up, that he's going to be forced to do new things, that Shigaraki is going to take him apart until Dabi passes out instead of just sending him away once he's finished. 

"There, much better. Now we'll see if you can learn to behave without my commands once you've gotten your punishment. Maybe if you can be a good girl, when those are all done, I'll help my little princess feel good too. Though," his eyes drift down to Dabi's cock that is still so hard even after the abuse he's already put his body through. "Maybe my little slut likes to be hurt so much he'll need a more long-term punishment if he cums before I'm finished with him." Oh no. Dabi does not want to find out what a 'long-term' punishment is, and his stomach sinks like a rock. He didn't even know he would... like it when Shigaraki hit him before. He doesn't know if he's going to be able to hold on throughout the rest of his punishment. "Come get on the bed, little girl, on your back. You're going to bring your knees to your chest and spread your legs wide." 

Even if the order didn't make his body move, Dabi would have gone over without argument, if only to hopefully make his punishment briefer. He lays himself out, blushing hotly at how the position puts his hole and cock completely on display. 

"Very good. Now you talked back to me and were very rude today before you came to see me. I think that you've earned... ten spankings." He trails the riding crop slowly along the most intimate parts of his body and Dabi starts to tremble. "Show me that you're not a disgusting, naughty whore who gets off on the pain, and then maybe we can do something special to help make your pussy feel good when we're done." 

At the first crack of the crop, the line of it going from his balls to across his hole, Dabi starts sobbing on the bed as softly as he can, the command robbing him of the wracking cries that want to slip from his throat. He can't bring attention to himself. He has to be quiet as he grapples with the hurts and the knowledge that they're going to get so much worse when he can’t hold on for the remaining nine as he gushes pre all over the underside of his skirt.

Thanks for participating! If you'd like to join in, consider checking it out here!

[endlessnightlock]

I began a story for the This Would Have Happened Anyway Challenge but didn't get it done in time to submit it. So I wrote a little more, and maybe you would call this a drabble? I don't know. I'm posting it here because it's a drop of water in my personal writing desert.

In Panem, canon-divergent. Everlark married instead of Quarter Quell Reaping.

"Are you coming downstairs soon?" 

Katniss is standing outside our bedroom door, watching me, her hand pressed to the frame, half in, half out. I was startled at her voice, unaware of her presence, and she smiled at the reaction. We've only been married and living together for a few weeks, and it's reassuring she knows me so well. It makes me feel better about our situation. 

I wasn't startled because it was Katniss there, catching me off guard—it was a knee-jerk reaction. I tend to get lost inside my head and zone out, and after years of Mother's insults (are you stupid? Why didn't you answer me?) slung my way like daggers, defense is my natural response. 

Licking her lips, she shrugs. "Your brother is here."

Ah. Now I know precisely why Katniss sought me out. At the ridiculous wedding reception thrown for us by President Snow, Rye pulled me aside to tell me he was planning to come by once we had a few days to settle in. Bring over some of my things from the bakery and a few things our parents want me to have now that I am a married man. Or a forcibly wed, frightened seventeen-year-old. You know, whichever way you choose to look at it. I digress. Katniss and I didn't choose this route. But I love her; she cares for me, and we're keeping our families safe. 

Back to Rye. He and I discussed it moments before our families left to catch the train back to Twelve—because even a victor's relations are limited on time they're allowed outside the District. This conversation was weeks ago, and I forgot about it. The memory lapse isn't like me, but I think it can be forgiven, considering how difficult it is to breathe under President Snow's intense scrutiny. I don't know how we'll spend the rest of our lives under his thumb. Who knows. Maybe we won't live long enough to find out. 

"Oh. Okay," I say. My eyes flit from Katniss's profile to the sketchbook in my lap. I feel like I need to collect my thoughts before seeing my brother. "Would you tell him I'll be down in a few minutes?" I venture. It's more a question than an answer.

She frowns. That's her answer: a firm no, Peeta. I won't hang out alone with your brother while you keep drawing. "Do you want me to send him up?" she suggests—more of a threat than a question.

"No, just give me a minute," I say, carefully closing up and laying my sketchbook on the side table before sliding off the mattress. I don't want to be cornered by my brother in our bedroom. Rye's itching to badger me with questions I sure as hell don't have any answers to.

She groans, and I laugh under my breath. If we were close enough, she'd pinch my side or smack my arm for finding humor in her misery. My family is standoffish with Katniss, and her response is in kind. "I'll wait for you," she says. 

Of course, she will. I'm like a security blanket for her.

"Well, don't just stand there gawking at me from the doorway," I say, bending over and grabbing yesterday's pants off the floor. I should have been up and around hours ago, but last night was horrible, and it took forever to fall asleep. 

"Fine," she says, stepping inside the room and pulling the door mostly shut behind her, keeping her eyes averted until I buckle my pants over my undershorts and put on a clean shirt. I raise my eyebrows in amusement. 

We're still dancing around each other. Not used to these close quarters. Sharing the same bedroom, sleeping in the same bed. Dressing in front of each other. Maybe I should make an effort to cover up more. I don't know. Being in my underclothes doesn't bother her when we go to bed. We curl around each other, seeking solace in each other's arms, keeping the darkness at bay. It's not the blackness of the night but rather those dark thoughts invading our minds like wind in the trees. Unpredictable, tangible.

"You don't have to look away. I don't mind if you see me," I remind her.

"Yeah, yeah. We've had this conversation before." 

That makes me smile.

"Are you going to yammer on or go into the bathroom and brush your teeth?"

Playfully, I cup my hands in front of my mouth and blow air into them. "Hmmm. Maybe I should leave them be. My morning breath might be enough to keep Rye from showing up here unannounced."

Katniss rolls her eyes. "I doubt that. Boys are gross."

She's not wrong. I've smelled much worse than Rye's bad breath living at home with my family. When we were still in wrestling, he'd pin me to the floor, squat over my head, and fart in my face. I shudder at the memory.

"What?" she asks.

I wave her question off. "Believe me. You don't want to know. You could go ahead and head downstairs—I'll only be a minute, I promise."

"Uh, no. I'll wait for you."

[crazyunsexycool]

My little love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced reader

Warnings: FLUFF, Charlotte being the sweet Angel she is, mentions of future children

A/N: here is a small Drabble to celebrate our favorite super soldier’s Birthday!! What better way to celebrate it that with his family.

“Mama, can we make daddy a cake?”

One simple request from your daughter a few days before Bucky’s birthday. You knew he didn’t really want to celebrate it. But how could you say no to Lottie? Maybe if the surprise came from her he’d be ok with it. You’d just keep the celebration between the team.

“Of course we can, but you can’t say anything because it’s going to be a surprise, ok?” You smile down at her.

“Ok.”

You sit and plan what kind of cake you should make and what color frosting you should use. Lottie had set her heart on black frosting and gold letters just like his arm. As well as a goat because it was their favorite animal. You tried not to laugh because she was so excited to do something for her dad.

~~~~~~~~

Bucky did his best to avoid his birthday ever since you had met him. This year was no different, he made sure to stay busy by training recruits, filling out papers or if he could, going on a mission. The one thing Bucky didn’t count on was the determination of his child. She had practically planned the whole thing herself. If this party wasn’t proof that she had everyone wrapped around her finger you didn’t know what was.

She convinced Nat and Steve to keep Bucky busy for the day, Sam and Vision helped with decorations, Wanda helped with the food and she even convinced Tony not to throw a party of his own. By 5:30 pm everything was set.

The team minus Nat and Steve who would arrive with Bucky were already at your new home. Since you’d decided to expand your family you moved out of the apartment in the compound into a house within the compound grounds thanks to Tony. The front door opened and everyone waited in the dining room.

“Sugar?” Bucky called out for you.

“In the dining room, handsome.”

Lottie was about to explode from the excitement. The closer the footsteps got to the room you were standing in the more shifted in place. She looked up at you with a beaming smile before she looked at the door.

“Surprise!” Everyone yelled. Bucky stood there stunned. He wasn’t sure what to do but you could see how he was starting to frown.

“Go get daddy.” You whispered to Lottie and she happily ran to him.

Her arms wrap around his leg and she looks up at him. Eyes wide and a huge smile on her face. He bends and picks her up, placing her on his hip. Lottie’s arms wrap around his neck and she kisses his cheek.

“Happy birthday daddy, do you like it?”

“It’s amazing, Doll. Did you help mama?”

She shakes her head. “Mama helped me. And so did everyone.” She explained what everyone did to help celebrate his birthday. “But mama and me made the cake. It’s your favorite.”

You saw the tears pool in his eyes as he kissed Lottie’s temple. His eyes connected with yours for a moment, then he smiled. It was genuine, charming and almost a boyish smile. He walked further into the room and for the rest of the afternoon and into the night you celebrated the birthday of the love of your life.

As the night started to wind down the party was moved to the living room where gifts were being opened. Lottie left hers for last. She held her hand behind her back but you could see the piece of paper she was holding.

“Close your eyes daddy.” She asked. When he had done what she asked she held the paper in front of her, she proudly displayed her work of art. “Open.”

“Doll, this is amazing.” He looked at the drawing she’s done. On top of the page said happy birthday in a child’s handwriting and underneath was him and you holding hands, a white cat and Lottie holding the hand of a smaller child. His eyes snapped to yours immediately. “Are you…” Bucky looked from your face to your midsection.

“Mama doesn’t have a baby in her belly. I saw him in my future dreams.” Lottie explains proudly. When trying to explain to her what visions were you and Bucky somehow ended up with that phrase and it’s what she uses all the time.

“This is the best present ever doll. I’m gonna frame it and put it in my office.”

Bucky wraps his arms around Lottie and he holds her close to his chest. Then he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into the small group hug.

“I love you both so much.”

“I love you, handsome.”

“I love you daddy.”

Taglist:

@kunaikunari

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10

@nalny5

@sturchling

@angywritesstuff

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions

@darkhairedmenrule

@little—baby—bear

@almosttoopizza

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Series:

@buckystevelove

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@samfreakingwinchester

@lfaewrites

@enchantedbarnes

@callsign-athena

[dandylovesturtles]

This is 2AL Propaganda

I bring you propaganda for the @rottmntpeepawpolls advocating for 2 Arms Left Leo by @intotheelliwoods in the form of another fanfic drabble! Please go check out their comic series, it is extremely good. And vote for 2AL Leo in the poll tomorrow!!

(Also Ell I'm sorry if I get f!Leo and p!Donnie's relationship wrong I TRIED

ALSO I PROMISE THIS ISN'T ANGST

also also this is set still somewhat early in his recovery time OK NOTES OVER)

...

"I can feel you lurking."

Leonardo looks up from his phone and locks eyes with Donnie, currently peeking through the crack in the curtain to his train car. He disappears from view and a moment later waltzes his way inside like he hadn't just been hiding.

"I have a question for you," he announces.

Leo sits up and drops his legs over the edge of the bed. "Shoot."

Donnie hesitates. He looks anxious, and Leo tenses in anticipation.

"It's about your timeline."

Leo's heart drops.

He'd known this would come eventually, but he'd been hoping it would be later rather than sooner. Of course they would want to know eventually, though. What happened to them. How things in his time had... ended.

He just isn't prepared for it. He isn't sure if Donnie is prepared for it, either. He's still so young. Should he really be hearing this now? What kind of damage does that cause on a young mind?

His mouth is draw when he says, "What's your question?" He scrambles to prepare answer, some way to put it off, or maybe to soften the blow, or-

"Did you still have the Lair Games in the future?"

-gape at Donnie like a fish because what?

"What?"

"Did you still have the Lair Games in the future?" Donnie repeats, a little louder as though that were the issue here.

"...We were a little busy with the whole alien apocalypse situation."

"Scoff." Donnie waves a hand. "As if a little apocalypse could stop this family from being competitive."

He has him there. Leo can't help but snort in amusement. "You're right. But it was less formal and more like... bragging about how many Krang hounds we could kill."

"Ah, I see... Well, we're lacking in those, so... goodbye."

He turns on his heel to leave.

"Hey, wait wait wait! Why the sudden interest?"

Donnie turns back around. He still looks anxious, but now Leo realizes it's more embarrassed than upset like he initially thought.

"Well, as you know, I am the current champion of the Lair Games."

"Heh, as if you'd let me forget."

"And I'm very eager to defend my title! And especially after his-slash-your nefarious tricks last time, I'm ready to grind Nardo to dust." He rubs his palms together with an unhinged glee, and Leo winces internally. Yikes. "But..." and there he stops, "Leo seems... reluctant to participate. We did not design the events with... one of us missing a limb in mind."

Ah, right. Hard to do a Handstand Hillbomb with only one arm. Even if they put things off until Leo's port and prosthetic were ready, he probably still wouldn't be experienced enough with it to do anything too taxing.

Leo could already imagine his younger counterpart had waved it off with a smile and a, "You guys have fun," and, "I'll be cheering for you." He would swing by his room later to check on him; for now he had another kid to deal with.

"So that's why you came to me?"

"I was hoping you might have some ideas for alternative events."

"Hmmm... I might be able to think of some." He grins. "On one condition."

Donnie looks wary. "What?"

"I get to play, too."

"What, so you can twist both my ankles this time!?" Donnie shakes his head. "Oh no. One of you is enough."

"Come on! It'll be fun."

"Doubt! And besides, the bylaws state that we can't add anyone to the competition."

"Ah-ah." He waves a finger. "The bylaws state that the competition is between Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, and..." He trails off, putting a hand on his plastron with a smirk.

Donnie's eyebrows are furrowed so hard they're at risk of smudging. "...You have out loopholed me, sir."

"Don't worry, I'll give you guys-"

"Do not."

"-a handicap."

"Groan! Why didn't I send Mikey to do this instead?"

"'Cause you love me." Leo gets up from the bed, walks over and catches Donnie in an affectionate headlock before he can flee. "Alright. Let's get brainstorming!"

[beachy--head]

Drabble time! A companion piece to this drabble where Harriet bargains with Jackson to get a pet and ends up with a kitten.

This is for @babyjapril and @himbo-jackson-avery, who always have the best tags and were wondering about Jackson as a cat dad. Ask, and you shall receive! (or something like that.) My brain wouldn't shut up until I wrote this, so here you go.

___

Jackson’s sigh cannot be louder even if he tried.

“Fine, we can adopt a kitten. But!” he adds before his wife and daughter can shriek with joy. “This cat will stay in the garden, he’s not going on any furniture ever, and Hattie, you have to help feed him and clean after him, okay?”

He’s not a cat person (not an animal person at all, actually), and he already envisions a future made of scratched furniture and cat hair on every piece of clothing Hattie owns, but the smiles on Harriet and April’s faces make up for it a little bit.

Still. That cat better not expect anything from him.

__

“Yeah, okay, he’s cute. And Hattie picked a good name with Oliver. But you’ve been cuddling him for the past hour, can you put him back on the ground now?”

“Jealous, Avery?”

“I’m not!”

__

“Why is he following me everywhere? I almost stepped on the damn thing ten times this afternoon.”

“Guess he’s just recognizing your natural leadership."

“Ha-ha-ha. Is this because I brought up the Gunther thing from way back this morning? You don’t have to be a sore– Oh come on, you almost made me fall, you stupid cat!! I swear, this thing has no survival instinct.”

“Leave him alone, will you?”

“Make him leave ME alone!”

__

“Have you noticed that he likes being scratched behind his ears? He makes such a goofy face every time.”

“Uh huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing. You just seem awfully cozy with him, now.”

“I’m just noticing things. You know, in a scientific approach of my surroundings. It’s no different from observing a patient, actually.”

“Uh-huh.”

__

“Daddy. You have to take good care of Oliver while mommy and me will be in Moline. I made drawings to show you how to do it, and mommy did the words.”

Jackson smiles when he sees the five sheets of instructions created by his daughter (this is 100% April’s DNA, no arguing), and holds his little finger for a pinky-swear. His daughter takes it, looks him in the eye.

“But you DON’T sleep with him in your bed. He’s only allowed to sleep on MY bed, and when I'm not there. Promise. And you have to send me pictures of him.”

“Am I allowed to live in the same house as him, or…?”

“Daaaaddy!”

__

“Yes, Jackson, I showed her the picture where Oliver is eating his food. Yes, I also showed her the picture where he's playing on our bed. Yes, the one with his new collar, too. And the one when he’s yawning. And the one – Did you go into the office at all today?

__

“I think we should go to the vet.”

“It’s a very small puncture wound, Jackson. I’ve disinfected it, and he cleaned it himself, too.”

“But it could lead to an infection.”

“Tomorrow it’ll be like it never happened. Trust me, there were so many cats on the farm who kept fighting with each other, having bites and marks way worse than this one, and we patched them up ourselves every single time.”

“But just in case…?”

“He’s going to be fine, Jackson.”

“I know, I know. Of course, we could ask,” he squints at his phone’s screen, “Dr. Davis for her input, it says here she’s specialized in felines and her clinic offers complementary training in–”

“Jackson, if you press dial on that button, I swear to God I’m telling Hattie the damn cat has been sleeping in our bed for the past week.”

[rollinouttahere-writes]

So you did a short Drabble about Mihawk finding Lizard, but what if Mihawk found Doll? We know that he’s on amicable terms with Shanks, so Shanks has probably told him about his daughter, and Mihawk may have even met Doll before, so would he bring her back to him, or would he listen to her if she was begging him to not send her back to her dad?

And if he did listen to her and decided to not give her back to Shanks, would he bring her to the Straw Hats, or would he also be a platonic yandere and want to keep her at his home?

Honestly I guess I would really just like to know more about the relationship between Mihawk and Doll, if you’re willing.

This one? Technically Buggy found her, Mihawk was just stuck trying to do damage control lol

Under a cut because I had a lot to say about them

Mihawk is one of the very few people that Shanks was okay with allowing Doll around, even going so far as to tell her to call him uncle Mihawk. They met a handful of times, and thanks to how observant Mihawk is, he could tell that something was... off. Doll's behavior was strange. She appeared to be torn between being excited to see someone new, but also being terrified and having no idea how to approach said new person. It's a very concerning way for a toddler to act, which led to Mihawk questioning Shanks about her.

Who is she? Where did she come from? Why is does she appear to have never socialized a day in her life?

Shanks, seeing nothing wrong with what he's done, is completely honest. He tells Mihawk about Kailani and how he "just had to" whisk away Doll when she wouldn't cooperate. He kinda skims over the whole Uta situation, but Mihawk is able to piece together that Doll has never been exposed to anyone outside of the ship because Shanks is scared of having a repeat of what happened to his first child.

Mihawk is empathetic to an extent. He doesn't have children of his own, but it's easy enough to imagine that losing one is a painful thing to go through. He encourages Shanks to consider letting Doll off the ship once in a while, but leaves it at that. It's a fresh wound, he's optimistic that he'll move on and ease up as it heals.

But as the years go by and they occasionally cross paths here and there, he realizes how naive it was to assume that. Doll has never seen a face outside of the crew and himself. Not only that, but as she gets older it becomes more and more apparent how infantilized she is. Anyone else would be training her hard to protect herself, but Shanks refuses to. Outside of lockpicking, she doesn't have a single useful skill. She can't fight at all.

It starts to bother Mihawk.

The last time he sees Doll before her escape, it's impossible to ignore how miserable she looks. Her eyes are bloodshot from stress and she's gone from being kind of fidgety to looking like she's about to have a nervous breakdown any second. Even the other members of Shanks crew can hardly stand to look at her, but there's nothing they can do because at the end of the day Shanks is their captain and they won't go against him.

While Shanks is occupied with getting more booze, she approaches Mihawk and clings to him while begging for him to help her leave. She's crying but doing her best to keep it quiet so as to not draw attention. She explains how she "found something she wasn't supposed to" and how awful it's been since that happened. The kid is borderline hysteric and promises that she won't be any trouble. He doesn't have to keep her around, he can ditch her at the first island they come across and she'll figure it out from there.

For a moment, he's heavily considering it, but then Shanks comes back. Mihawk covers for Doll by saying that all the noise overwhelmed her and that's why she's crying and upset. Shanks buys it, but he also then takes Doll away so she can rest in their room and get away from the noise.

Mihawk left without her that day, but he did not feel good about it. When he finds out she went missing, it is honestly a weight off his shoulders. He'd been genuinely thinking about sneaking her off the ship, but now it seems he won't need to. He does find himself to be concerned about how she is fairing. He knows she can't fight, so he can only hope she's with people who can. Then he finds out she's with the Straw Hats, and that really takes the edge off. She ought to be safe with them.

If they encountered each other again, Doll would be fearful of him taking her back to Shanks. As far as she could tell, he was as complicit as everyone else on that ship had been. Mihawk is quick to assure her that he has no such plans, he won't even mention having seeing her again to Shanks.

During this, he can't help but ask if she's picked up any fighting skills since her escape. Upon hearing that he hasn't, he nonchalantly says that he wouldn't be opposed to showing her the basics of sword fighting, should she be interested. He tries to act impartial, but he very much wants her to say yes.

He isn't yandere for her, but he does feel the need to help her when he can. It helps assuage the guilt of doing nothing all those years she was trapped on the Red Force for. He'll mislead Shanks and would even be willing to fight him if it meant giving Doll a chance to get away.

For someone who once rolled his eyes at being called "uncle Mihawk", he sure does live up to the title.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

congrats on finishing finals mr s!!!! 🥳 hope u have a good break :)

(on a semi-related note, i would like to humbly request evanstan spitkink if u havent done so already, but if u have... 🤲)

Thank you so much!!

I've written a tiny bit of spit kink with stucky in my series "You Can('t) Teach An Old Dog New Tricks," specifically in chapter one of "Shake" so if you haven't read that, I would highly recommend it, lol.

Also, while on the stucky spit kink train, if you haven't read this drabble from K (@howdoyousleep3) that has her pairing of Senator Rogers and Intern Bucky with spit kink, I would highly, highly recommend that, too. Maybe even more than mine because, Jesus Christ, it's K, c'mon, of course it's stupidly hot.

Without further ado, evanstan and spit kink 👀

Sebastian has already cum multiple times, he couldn't say if it was twice or a hundred times because he doesn't have the capacity to recount anything right now--not his own name and hardly anything as complex as numbers that string together to make any form of sense. All that exists is flames and heat and this. This moment where he's being kept in a glass enclosure of pleasure. Untouched but so, so touched. Guh. That doesn't make sense. It doesn't need to. He loves this. He needs this. He aches for this. Kept bound, sweet, and small underneath Chris, who is so indescribably big and heavy and perfect.

Sebastian has made a slick mess all over himself, all over Chris, too, from cumming his brains out until there's nothing left. He's pulsed and rippled and throbbed through the height of pleasure so many times that his cock--which he knows is dizzying, hazily, somewhere down there, along the yielding, melted line of his body, but he can hardly locate at the moment--has gone soft. He's aware of just how soft he is, despite feeling so, so unbelievably hard because Chris keeps fondling him.

Stroking his soft, weeping cock, drawing more, endless liquid from it that might be more cum, it might be pre-cum because time is nothing if not broken at this moment, it might be piss, commanded into emptying himself in every conceivable way possible, it might be all of him--he might be truly liquid.

Cupping his soft cock against his clenching tummy, trapping the tortured shape between his calloused, heavy palm and his body--encased, surrounded, overwhelmed just like Sebastian is.

Petting his soft cock, down the limp length as if it's precious. Treating the vulgar sight of his used, exploited dick as if it's innocent and cute. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Sebastian has never experienced something so filthy.

As insane as Chris is driving him, caressing him with one hand while he's driving in and out of him ruthlessly, fucking him out of his goddamn mind, Sebastian can't do a single thing about it.

Touched.

Fucked.

Groped.

Helpless, Sebastian is spread thin like butter soaking into hot toast with his hands tied to each opposite corner of the headboard. He's anchored there by Chris' silk neckties, a caress of possessive hands in of themselves, scented with Chris' favorite cologne and normally hung around his neck in the presence of wealthy, powerful people when they're not immobilizing his favorite boy. His arms are spread to their limit, muscles straining deliciously, pinned at the wrist. There's no hope of escape. Sebastian wouldn't dream of moving anyway. He's too good. He wants to live here like this, no matter how crazy it makes him feel.

He's crying, sweating, or drooling maybe? What's the difference anyway? Either way, he's wet. And he's moaning high in his throat, gasping, raw, and rattled harshly by how exquisitely he's being pounded. Loving it. He can't get enough of it, even as it boils over and becomes way, way too much. Overstimulation isn't a strong enough word. It's beyond.

Sebastian's legs aren't tied like his arms, but they are quivering and held tightly around Chris' trim waist, curled so tightly that his heels dig into his feverish body. Clinging.

As he's fucked--harshly, obscenely--Sebastian's near-incoherent pleas have degraded from begging, bitten-off sounds that seek permission to cum to high noises that plead for Chris to cum. He wants Chris to cum in him. Chris hasn't orgasmed yet, he's been too busy. Preoccupied with Sebastian, all needy and aching.

Somehow, somewhere, at some fucking point, Chris began this torture by rimming Sebastian open. Chris bodily pressed him into the bed and spread him, pushing him face down, ass up to devour his way through him. Eating him out. Getting him so fucking wet. Teasing his skin with his facial hair until Seb was red and lushly sensitive between his cheeks and Chris' beared jaw was soaked, Sebastian's taste thick on his wicked tongue. He made Sebastian spill over that way, the slick, hot feeling of his lips and tongue and teeth and beard irresistible. Then. Then, as if he wasn't already wiped out, boneless, and sweetly moldable, Chris had to keep going.

He folded him up, pushing him to his knees, keeping his arms underneath his chest, perfect for teasing his own nipples if only he had enough coordination, and fingered him. Chris made him sloppier, looser on his thick fingers. Three of them. God. He spanked his ass, too, using his other hand knowing Seb's always weak for the white-hot pain. It was out of Seb's control to not clench and squirm, tightening him around his fingers, helping Chris press and rub his prostate until he couldn't stop it anymore and he had to overflow. Pouring. Cumming again. And after-!

After, Chris fucked him with his dick for the first time today. Not the last time. No, of course not, why would he ever fuck Sebastian once when he could luxuriate in the pleasure of sticking it in him aaaaall day.

Guh.

Sebastian was so focused on how heavy and full of cock he felt--split open and speared through his belly into his throat, choking on it--that he doesn't even know if he orgasmed again or not. Maybe he did more than once, maybe he didn't at all without Chris' fist around his then hard cock. He doesn't remember. Just his dick, that's all he remembers feeling. It felt so good. Before Chris had the satisfaction of riding his ass to notification, though, he ripped himself away like a lion from a fresh kill. All for the purpose of playing with his food before he feasted. A true feline, then. Full of blood lust but really just pure lust.

Chris made room for himself inside Sebastian's throbbing body, used him for as long as he pleased, fucking him, and then stuffed him with a vibrator. Because...

Why not?

What else is he good for?

Nggghh.

Sebastian came that way, too, teeth chattering against the torrent of pleasure flowing through him electrically. It was raw, clenching, and so incredibly sensitive. He emptied himself.

And so Seb feels hollow of anything more to give. He's given it all. What's left is everything Chris has stuffed inside of him, molten heat. And despite the lust inside him, filling him, he can't get it back up. He's not going to be able to cum again even though, paradoxically, everything makes him feel like he's cumming. He's stuck, pinned down in a reverent, flowing, liquified state like a white-water rapid river. Everything runs and bleeds together here, in this moment, it's like wet paint. The only picture that could possibly be painted this way is one of pure ecstasy.

Towering over him, heavy and scorching, Chris hoarsely groans. He's back inside him after teasing him with that godforsaken vibrator, and it's wearing them both down fervently. "Y-you want me so bad," he taunts him as if he isn't working him over so good he's making him stupid, forgetting his own name with his dick grinding deep enough to make it hard to breathe, choking. "You want anything of me you can get, don't'cha, baby?" It's a question, but Chris already knows the answer and he fucking knows it well. "You'll take anything, isn't that right, honey?"

Seb has been stripped down too far to be anything but embarrassingly honest. Frantically, he whimpers through a fast, uncoordinated nod.

"I'll give you what you need, sweet thing," he promises, voice rough like a barely caged animal. So tantalizingly close to feral.

Sebastian believes him, god, he believes him with everything he has. Of course, he will. He always does.

"Open," Chris demands, cocky because, naturally, Seb does, just like Chris knows he will. He's delightfully sweet and predictable, after all.

Sebastian does it thoughtlessly, groaning with the spear of pleasure that shoves into him just from being good and obedient like he craves. And without his hips missing a beat, Chris resettles his weight, holding himself up with just one strong arm as he delivers on his promise to give him what he needs--sticking two fingers between Sebastian's gaping, swollen lips.

His lips are all puffy and red because he couldn't quit biting his bottom lip earlier, when he had more control over his own body and motor function, before he melted into a puddle and stayed all open and lax.

Fingers between those glistening, red lips, Chris presses down on his tongue to drag his jaw open wider. Just because he can. Then, he spreads his fingers apart as much as he can, feeling the velvet of the insides of Sebastian's cheeks on his index and middle finger, making a V-shape in his mouth. And while he's at it, teasing, already, Seb has started to drool, his salivary glands tingling, his whole face tingling--he knows this is embarrassing, somewhere, in the muffled, turned-down logical part of his mind that takes a backseat whenever Chris starts touching him, turning him on, but Seb doesn't fucking care that it's embarrassing beyond the heat it brings. Feeling hotter. All he cares about is being good and wet and open for Chris.

All his holes good and wet and open.

Invading his mouth, Chris leans in to do the same to his personal space. His frame dangerous and looming, predatory almost, as he puts their faces close together, posturing up as if he's going to knock him out with a lush, filthy kiss--like he's going to fuck his mouth with his tongue and claim him further. But he doesn't. Chris does something better.

Chris gets so fucking close to him, weighing on him, pressing him hard into the bed, and...

Spits in his mouth.

Sebastian's entire world breaks from its axis. The sound that leaves him in response to having Chris' spit in his mouth, wet on his already drooling tongue, is nothing short of pornographic.

And, oh fuck, the sensation of being claimed so tabboo-ly, spit on, defiled and dirtied, in tandem with the grin that splits Chris' handsome face has Sebastian moaning worse. More. The sound that was all rasp and punched-out turns into loud, molten lust. He's moaning as if he's cumming all over again, pleasure erupting. More than he can take. It's fucking awful. That sensation. The fucking look on Chris' fucking face--unhinged, sharp pleasure at being so in control and knowing that it's all Seb wants. It ruins Sebastian for everything else ever. Immediately. He's fucking gone.

Spoiled.

How is he ever supposed to get off any other way for the rest of his life? That fucking grin. Sharp and predatory and knowing. He knows exactly what he does to Sebastian--how he devastates him and tears him down, stripping him to exposed nerves that sing only for Chris.

All Seb can do is swallow. He swallows again, too. He wants it. He wants all of it so badly.

"You'll take even that, won't you?" Chris' hand not holding himself up to keep rolling his hips, keep fucking him, is suddenly at his throat, pressing, blunt fingernails digging in so his pulse throbs through him like a drum beat so harshly by a fist that it nearly bursts.

Ah!

His thick, strong fingers are still wet with Sebastian's and Chris' own spit. Mixed into a terrible, incredible cocktail. Messy and hot and now smeared into his skin like a sizzling brand. He's owned.

Sebastian swallows a kitten-ish mewl, mortifying in its desperation, only to embarrass himself worse when he can't choke back his assent, "mmmh, mmm-hhm!" He moans. He sobs, "th-thank you."

Chris' fingers bite harder into his throat, and Sebastian hears an angel's choir, "ohh, Seb," his rough, low voice purrs, "what a good boy, such good manners after you get what you want. Look at you, aren't you sweet?"

The only thing that Sebastian's body is capable of doing it quivering, sobbing harder. "Pluh-pleeease!" He cries.

Chris knows what he wants, and beyond, Chris knows what he needs.

Seb might think he's begging for Chris to cum--use him, fill him, fuck him--but Chris just spits into his mouth again. This time, some of it gets on his cheeks and chin, too.

Sebastian was already cracked open and exposed, but then, right fucking then, he shatters. His tongue lolls from his mouth, wanting it all, licking his buzzing, swollen lips, and swallowing his spit.

JesusfuckingChrist.

He's such a mess. It's painted all over his face. He's so wet. And he, he, he just vacates his overwhelmed body and floats, so entirely, perfectly used and consumed, he doesn't need to do anything. So he doesn't. Sebastian hovers. Weightless clouds and spun cotton candy, nothing but desired as Chris has his way with him, doing everything, anything to him. Wring orgasms out of his body, bleeding him dry. Fuck him. Fill him with his release. Spit on him--spit in his mouth. Yes. Yes. Yes.

[praline-elegy]

Another Fence Drabble :)

Nicholas shifts the weight beneath his feet as he and Seiji draw nearer to the stairs. His eyes are trained on dark brown, and Seiji’s not even looking at him, eyes facing forward. Nicholas’ mesmerized by them, anyways. The shape of them, the color, his lashes. The way his mole sits under his eye so perfectly poised. He’s not paying attention to where he’s walking.

Nicholas takes another step, a little too big, his foot settles onto solid ground.

Okay, good. Now keep walking and stop staring at Seiji’s face, Nicholas tells himself.

He’s always been bad at following directions, even self-imposed ones no matter how hard he tries. Maybe that’s why karma finally came around to catch him, because his foot doesn’t catch the next step.

Empty air.

Nothing.

He’s not expecting the lack of step, he didn’t even realize how close to the stairs they were. His eyes snap away from Seiji’s gorgeous soulful brown ones, flickering over to make a grab at the handrail.

He misses.

His hand eye coordination doesn’t need work, it just needs to stop focusing on Seiji. His hand misses its mark and suddenly he’s falling forward.

Oh god this is the stairs to get to the bottom of the music wing, Nicholas’ mind races. It’s an incredibly tall flight even with the large flat step intersecting the middle. Falling even just to that safe-ish haven is gonna land him a sprained wrist at the very least. Or-or something.

Ironically everything happens in slow motion, when it all technically happened within a split second.

A gasp, his flailing arm, the dumb decision to close his eyes instead of reattempting to place his foot on the correct step as a final redemption in the heat of the moment.

As quick as flick, a hand reaches out. Warm and calloused and safe, engulfing Nicholas’ own and tugs.

Nicholas stops falling, suspended above those wretched stairs covered in small traces of marker and randomly fallen flyers. Nicholas isn’t one of them.

His breath stalls in his throat, a tiny breathy sound stuck right at the place he wants Seiji to kiss him. A kiss on the throat sounds awfully divine, but Nicholas is anything but worthy of such godly touch.

Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about Seiji kissing you, he admonishes himself.

He focuses on fingers, firmly gripped over his own as that safe comforting hand pulls Nicholas back.

He’d romanticize it and say it was a slow and gentle moment, but in reality Seiji had yanked him back so hard he fell into the taller boy’s arms. Stumbling into him with his face pressed right against his collar. Uh—not what he expected, not that he planned to fall, he didn’t like falling unless it involves another boy with a painfully soft smile that hits you suddenly like a flèche before it’s gone. But still, score.

A moment passes, and then two.

“Nicholas, you’re shaking.” Seiji says, fingers still wrapped around his, squeezing them gently.

“I fell.” He responds dimly, still in shock.

“You didn’t.” A murmur above his head. It’s soft.

“I fell.” He repeats against Seiji’s shirt.

“I caught you.” Seiji reassuraces him, his other arm wraps around Nicholas’ shoulder, pressing him close.

“I fell.”

“Nicholas,” the soft triplet of his name makes him look up, and eyes filled with something intense yet so soft look back at him. “I’m here.”

“Okay.” The word just plunks out of him, inelegant and gauche, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

Thank you. I love you. Don’t stop holding me. Please love me.

His heart is aching at the way Seiji looks at him like he’s something precious, words that he wants to say pour through his veins, begging to be heard. He doesn’t say any of those words.

Seiji nods, and Nicholas can hear a heartbeat racing fast against his ear. Was it his own? Or was it Seiji’s?

He doesn’t know.

Nicholas slowly peels himself off of Seiji, and the two slowly make their way down the stairs.

Neither of them say a word as their hands remain clasped between them.

[manyothermusingsofmine]

And Pose || Drabble

Fandom: Xmen

Warnings: Characters talking about bigotry moments

Wordcount: 1931

Summary: There's a lot of ways to try and get your mind off things. For Nightcrawler and Gambit, their preferred distraction just happens to be the same. AN: Look I'm not a fitness kinda person but even I know this isn't proper spotting from what I've seen spotting to actually entail. -------------------------

Acrobatic routines, gymnastics and workouts helped get him out of his head, usually. Right now Kurt was doing a pull up set that, if he was honest, he didn't completely have his full focus and attention on. The repetition barely causing any needed strain to make him point his attention on something but the thoughts that lingered in his mind, a slight sigh of frustration escaping him drawing the attention of his friend.

"You alright there? You don't seem to be all in it today."

"Mh."

Red eyes flicked over to the blue mutant, as Gambit slowly lowered himself off the bar he was using to train his core; the two always keeping an eye out for each other during these sessions. And it was unlike Kurt to give such a short, numb answer- or be in such poor form. As his feet touched the floor, Gambit let go of the bar, turning to his friend.

"This isn't doing much for you, mon ami. If you actually want to get some work in, I think you're better off training your flexibility."

"Maybe..."

"What's on your mind?"

"A lot."

It said enough; he wasn't ready to talk about it. Lightly crossing his arms over his chest, Remy observed Kurt for a while.

"Well, Gambit will tell you this much, mon ami. You can either go through ten more sets of this and get nothing worthwhile done, or work on something that'll actually challenge you to focus. Your choice."

Kurt thought about it for a moment, eyes flicking away to the side. With a light sigh, he let go, easily landing on the thick mat below him and leaving to another that wasn't directly below any of the bars, but close enough to keep an eye on Gambit and have Gambit keep an eye on him. Starting a warm up first, he tried his best to focus. And thankfully, even the warm up stretches seemed to help more in clearing his mind.

"Did something happen on the run, this mornin?" Gambit asked, grabbing the bar above him and starting with pull ups himself, "because I saw you before you and Miranda went to get supplies, and you were fine."

"That obvious?"

"Know you long enough by now to know when something's up."

Kurt huffed ever so slightly, slowly building up his stretches until he felt comfortable dropping to the floor in a split, both of his legs on each side of him as he lowered the rest of himself as much as he could.

"Same nonsense, different day. You bring a duo like Miranda and me to the mall, and eventually you start hearing the whispers. Random guys wondering why she's hanging around me. Nothing I haven't heard before; at this point I almost wish they would come up with a new insult to call me instead of everything I've heard a million times before."

"So, something else must've happened, or this wouldn't be doing laps in your mind."

"Never thought I'd hear it in reverse."

"What do you mean?"

Pushing himself back up and folding his legs back together, Kurt stretched himself as far forward as he comfortably could, thinking for a moment how to explain the emotional pressure point he felt the whole day had been prodding at.

"I decided to take her to the little convenience store on third avenue."

"The one run by Monsieur Moray? Gargoyle looking fella?"

"Yeah. He seems to have gotten a new cashier, a lizard lady,” he wanted to say that that was good, as the owner had very much needed a few extra hands around the place, but he had a sinking feeling he knew where this was going. Gambit just looked at Kurt, halting his pull ups for a moment, "she thought I couldn't hear her when she asked him why I brought a regular human with me."

There was a hint, a mere tinge of annoyance to Kurt's voice, but it was enough to tell Remy that this had really pushed a nerve. Kurt pushed himself back up into a regular sitting position. His anger, while quiet, was no less boiling over; "Which, first of all, she isn't, thank you very much. And even if she was just a regular human, so what? Isn't that the whole point of what we're trying to do? How.... How does it help any of us if both mutants and humans are acting like we can't interact with each other, ever? That we're too fundamentally different to get along?"

Gambit didn't really react aside from the odd noise to indicate that he was still listening, fully understanding that Kurt just needed to get this off his chest.

"Besides, how many regular humans do you know with wine red hair and emerald green eyes?"

"Plenty of them dye their hair in wild colors and wear colored contacts for the fun of it. It don't make them mutant."

Kurt groaned in response; it was a logical answer and Remy was right about it, but it still hit him wrong; "I know that. I've been friends with regular humans before, Remy, including ones that dye their hair. If Miranda was a natural blonde dying her hair that shade of red, like she claims she is, the roots would start to show in no time."

"Claims she is? To whom?"

"Humans. Ones she doesn't want to reveal her being mutant to."

Silence fell between the two as they simultaneously decided to focus on their routines, with Gambit going back to his pull ups and Kurt slowly pushing himself up into a handstand, deciding he would try and see how long he could hold that for. It did require more focus than things had before, his mind quieting the bubbling anger in him as it was now more worried about keeping balance for as long as he could. After a few long moments, he let his feet touch the mat again, getting up and stretching.

"All I'm saying is," he guided his leg into a vertical split as he spoke, "things are hard enough without mutants gatekeeping who's mutant enough to be part of the club. She shouldn't have to come with disclaimers and peer reviewed degrees to prove she's a mutant; she shouldn't have to feel like she's not believed unless she shows how she vanishes from sight. And even if she was just a regular human; that should be fine too. That should be stellar, even. We should be getting along. That aside, I would love it if people trusted me to make my own decisions in who my friends are."

"Mh. Look, for what it's worth, mon ami.. You're right. Everything would be easier if everyone got along. 'S a shame that we don't. No one else gets to have a say in how you two feel about each other, either way."

As he arched his leg over, holding on with one of his hands and almost looking like one of the little dancers in a jewelry box, he considered Gambit's last words for a moment longer. How they felt? That had been a thing that lowkey sang around in his mind. Gambit didn't need to know about the shift, there, but when he really thought about it, what did they have? A few kisses, a shift in considering each other partners and... Not much more than that, really. It begged the question what either of them really wanted out of this, and he had been trying to figure out a way to talk to her about it. Without anyone else overhearing, preferably. But why? Why did he not want anyone to overhear if he told her he liked her? Was that not enough; did he have to come with a much heavier declaration than that, and would he scare her off if he did label his feelings as more intense than just liking her?

Seeing his own faint reflection in one of the tiled walls nearby, something in the back of his mind chimed in that these two feelings where more intertwined than that. He was worried about how she would react if he said he genuinely liked her. Because... what if she wanted to keep this where this was now? Casual, lowkey, without anyone knowing; so it would be easier to call it quits when the novelty of him wore off? His balance quivered and he couldn't correct it, fumbling out of his pose with a lot less grace than he had getting into it, landing back on both his feet and needing a few steps to the side before he felt like he had steadied himself, staring at the wall for a moment longer

What if, at some point, she wanted to be with someone who made hiding among non-mutants a lot easier? Someone less... obviously mutant. He flinched ever so slightly as the last two words weren't said by his own voice, but by the distant and cold tone of his mother. He turned back to Gambit.

"What's that even supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it says on the tin. Whether it's the convenience store cashier or some random Joe trying to impress his friends that he could totally go over and talk to the pretty lady if he wanted to; neither of them have any say in whatever is happening between you and Miranda."

"Whatever is happening?" Kurt dryly repeated, with Gambit giving a slight smirk, "by that logic it's not up to you to dictate how we feel, either."

"Which I'm not doing, mon ami."

"I sure hope you're not."

He shook everything off, knowing fully well that if he left it with that weird stumble he would undermine his own sense of confidence. Lowering himself to the mat once more, he pushed himself up until all of his weight rested on his lower arms onto the mat, before slowly but surely curving his spine and holding his balance that way.

"Anyway, I do know one thing for sure, if you're looking to impress her you should show off that flexibility of yours more."

"I'm not doing this to impress anyone, Remy. I'll leave 'using acrobatics to woo people' to you, thank you very much."

"Who says I'm doing this just to impress women?"

"People, Remy, not just women; anyone really, who's willing to toss their eyes into the room when you're doing your pole dancing routine, where the door is always conveniently open just wide enough for curious eyes."

"Hey, that's-"

"Core and strength practice, ja, you've said that before and I'm not saying it doesn't take skill and strength. I'm saying that if you didn't want to show off, you'd actually close the door instead of making it convenient for, oh, I dunno, Shadow? To look in?"

"Merde!" and with that Gambit's concentration was now broken, slipping off the bar and onto the mat a little more brick like than he had intended, slightly putting his fists on his hips. He was going to say something, but there was a strange lingering emotional tension in the room that even he picked up on, and didn't feel like prodding at too much.

"... How about we stop talking about this for a bit?"

"Fine by me."

"Two more sets, and then maybe a sparring match? I think we could both use the distraction."

"... Agreed. Sure. Two more sets, then spar. And, Remy?" Gambit looked back to Kurt, halted just second before he had intended to leap back up on the bar, "Thank you. For listening."

"Of course, mon ami."