#felt bored so I wrote this

[nightmarenova-writer]

~Story Drabble Time Pt. 5~

(Please go to Pt.1 & 2 for an important A/N for some information about my story drabbles!! Anyway have fun reading!)

She doesn’t know what the actual hell is going on right now. Even as she watches as her one of her soul brothers standing before her with a shit-eating grin. She couldn’t even start to describe the pure, and utterly done with the world expression she knows is on her face.

In her brothers hands, was a device. A phone to be exact, playing the Omae Wa Mou Shinderu meme on repeat. And at this point it was on its 127th repeat, and she was so close to beating his ass. He has been trying to convince her to do a song cover for it, to which she said no. As she had other things she needed to do, and honestly wouldn’t be able to fit it inside her already packed schedule.

‘This man, this fucking dude is about to get his ass turned into grass in a few moments.’ She thought darkly.

“Oh come on squirt! Is it really to much to ask to do a small cover for such an iconic meme?”, her brother complained, trying to prove his so called point as his shit eating grin remained on his face.

“Midorihiko, I’ve already told you my schedule is already full as it is. Especially when dad is having me help out on some of his cases. Even the thought of streaming is out of the question for now.”, she grumbled out, frustrated.

“But Paaaaggggeeeee!!! Come on! Do it for the meme! Please!” Her brother persisted.

“No Hiko. No means no. And I’m this close to dragging your colossal ass outside and beating you with my Bo staff.”

“…..but your fingers are touching?’’

“Exactly. Better starting running.”

And thus the grand act of chasing her meme obsessed older brother proceeded for the next 45 minuets. And all through out that time one thing ran through her mind.

‘I regret teaching him the way of memes. Immediate regret. If I knew things where gonna turn out like this I would’ve made a anti-bullshit weapon to hit him with. Preferably a chancla.’

But even when one of her older brothers, specifically this one, got on the girl’s nerves. She couldn’t help but smile and laugh all through the chase. The imagery of a 6’10 adult man running for his life from a 5’0 teenage girl gave quite an amusing sight.

After all, he was one of the people who would stay with her, from death to rebirth, and eternity. Never to be parted, nor separated for as long as they where there to guide and protect her. As they where her soul siblings, and would do everything they could for her within their power to make her burdens more bearable.

[ballwizard]

can i be real with you guys i fucking hate the "HOW HIGH WERE U WRITING THIS XD CARBON MONOXIDE DETECTOR!!! LOL WHAT!! UR A CRAZY PSYCHO FOR WRITING YHIS" schtick that I've been seeing around recently . it's like. Not funny at best and really rude and annoying at worst

[writterings]

the thing they don't tell you about most mlm romance books is that they fucking suck ass

[ancient-romes]

Kaikaina Grif doesn't have a name. Well, she does. okay not really. More like a title. Kaikaina. A word meaning younger siblings, younger sister. That's who she is, who she's always been, always will be. When mom wasn't bothered enough to soothe her cries it was Dexter who would hold her, his chubby hands holding onto her little fingers, he wasn't much older than her by any means and still he held her and whispered to her as she cried, my Kaikaina, my sister. So Kaikaina is who she became, the little sister toddling after her brother, following him all the way to a box-canyon in the middle of nowhere. Because she's his sister and that's all she's ever been. And when her teammates call her sister she wants to correct them, thats a title, a noun, not a name. But then she stops and wonders. Does she have a name?

[yellowocaballero]

man, reading ch3 was a ride, it's like all fun and jokes and then all of sudden, Nope! It's time to be sad now! but it's so good with it? like, I really enjoyed how seriously you took it, and that moment in the classroom was really like 'oh shit this is legit' in a way that had my heart just sinking in my chest and with the tone whiplash from the rest of the fic so far, it was just literally so good to read. also, seeing byleth and the rest of the class just kinda grapple with wth to do with dimitri while he's deep in this episode is just very interesting, especially when they all have their own hangups and issues with everything. 👍

YESSSSS. I'm always so excited to post the moment the story actually kicks into gear, and this chapter was it for Weekenders. A lot of fun.

I wrote a post a while back about people's discomfort with writing severe mental illness,

and while I wouldn't say Weekenders is a spite fic, it was influenced by how difficult it was to find non-modern AU fic that wrote Dimitri specifically as somebody on the schizophrenia spectrum/bipolar.

It was so hit-me-over-the-head obvious while I was playing! His entire personality and behavior flipped on a DIME in Part 1, and it flipped 'back' in Part 2. He couldn't switch topics, he was ranting incoherently, he was having headaches, he was doing nothing but training, he obviously wasn't sleeping or grooming, he was convinced a 12yo had orchestrated an assasination - that's not depression/anxiety/PTSD, and it's not even just a psychotic episode (mania does have elements of psychosis, hence the paranoid delusions). And, obviously, the actual hallucinations, delusions, antisocialness, lack of grooming, impulsivity, etc, of Part 2 that rang very loudly of a schizophrenic/schizoaffective psychotic break.

But equally important is the fact that Dimitri's illness did not make him hateful and homicidal. Dimitri was always a hateful person. I don't think he's naturally hateful nearly to the degree that he shows while having an episode, but one of the most important lines in the BL route is when Dedue just says that Dimitri was always angry and hateful, and that he just hid it. His behavior in late Part 1/part 2 is him losing all capability to hide it. I don't think he's a pathological liar, and I don't think the Dimitri we see throughout Part 1 is 'fake' - I just think he withholds a lot. Dimitri's cruelty is just as important as his generosity. His hatred is as important as his empathy. The horrible sides of his illness are just as important as the comfortable sides. Do you see what I mean?

That is what interests me about Dimitri so much. Dimitri wants to be Marth. Dimitri tries to be Chrom. Dimitri dresses up like Roy. He is not. He is an angry, paranoid, brutal murderer. Any depiction of Dimitri that forgets that - that unironically only protrays the Dimitri that he shows the world and never the sides of him that he's ashamed of - is kinda buying what he's selling, and it both demonstrates a deep disinterest in who he is and a discomfort with the sides of his illness that aren't palatable.

Dimitri's psychosis did not make him hateful (I think his PTSD had a lot more to do with his anger problems). It made him scared. Mania and psychosis are a very, very scary experience. His mind is constantly telling him that he's in danger, that Byleth's in danger, that everybody and everything around him wants to hurt and kill him, that he is a sinner if he doesn't avenge his dead family. And Dimitri is a good child soldier, and he knows that we destroy our enemies with prejudice. He's a good leader, and he knows that the BL are never safe and that their enemies are everywhere. He's a good son, and he knows that you have to avenge them. Violence solves problems and Dimitri is scared and angry and if he doesn't solve the problem he can't protect the woman and people he loves.

This is serious to me! I'm trying not to make this THAT long but I could go ooooon lol. I understanding wanting to either make him realistically/explicitly schizophrenic OR make him violent, because violent schizophrenics are a bad and harmful stereotype. But I think both sides of him are important, because I don't want to whitewash Dimitri's illness or his experiences. It's scary for the people around you. It very frequenty is triggered from trauma and hardship and it is informed by your life. Like many characters in FE3H, Dimitri is the product of the evils of his world.

Byleth's arc in this story is about her growing into a human being. It is shown as a beautiful thing. It is wonderful to be a person. It would contradict the message of the story to show Dimitri as anything else but a human being - flaws, traumas, SMI and all. He was Marth to her. That's the point.

I went on for soooo long lol but thanks for the ask!

[sage-nebula]

Thinking about how when baby Tails met little Sonic, and Sonic was so nice to and supportive and encouraging of him, and that was the first time in so long that anyone was nice to or actually liked Tails, and so an achievement was unlocked for Sonic: Miles Prower will now die for you.

And then a little while after that, when Tails tells Sonic that he's already got the best family, and that Sonic is his best family, and he loves and cares about Sonic more than anyone else, and so an achievement was unlocked for Tails: Sonic the Hedgehog will now die for you.

These brothers just love each other so much, I cry.

[meatlesbeating]

Finished Reading Nowhere Man about John's diaries and am starting to understand why people like the One Sweet Dream / Another Kind of Mind podcasters get so defensive over Paul tbh

[f1nneas]

I wish I had a babygirlicious man next to me to keep me company right now 😼😉

[rottingfacade]

[guideoftime]

@bladedhunter liked a really old starter call I'm impressed they found. From like when I made my blog.

Konohagakure was quite different from Kirigakure. Though they had their similarities, it was defintiely easier to say they were more out in the open that Kirigakure was. The Land of Water, being surrounded by water, made traveling here quite difficult. He'd taken several boats and than ran through trees for far to long traveling to get here. Thankfully, after that, getting inside was rather easy.

They'd taken his Shinobi ID, number, and travel permit and then let him on his way. Sheik wasn't doing much here but overseeing the Chunin Exams that were being hosted by Konoha. He was early, probably to early, but Kirigakure didn't have any Genin entering this year. The Mizukage just wanted him to see what prospects the other Great Hidden Villages were offering.

The Mizukage, Mei Terumi, had sent Sheik because he was one of the best she had--and he'd been overworked lately. He thinks he's on vacation? It's hard to say actually.

He was getting distracted by the overwhelming amount of people wandering through the village that he nearly missed running into someone. Sheik instantly twisted to avoid touching them and tucked his hands neatly behind his back. Polite, cordial, he offered them a nod of his head the mask around his face hiding the grimce of his lips.

"My apologies." He was very much lost.

[prefixsstars]

𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥

This is the first fic i’ve ever written I hope you all enjoy! This is for you @starstune

If Toya could describe Nene in one word it would be lovely. 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕪 in the way she gets excited about a new game. 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕪 in the way she shines on stage with her voice touching his soul. In the way that despite her bluntness her tone with him is always so sweet. 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕪 because the palms of her hands are so soft, but the tips of her fingers are calloused from video games and theater work. The way her Iris colored eyes seem to shine in the limelight. She’s 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕪 to Toya because she chose to love him with all her heart.

If Nene could describe Toya in one word it would be 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥. ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥 in the way he makes sure she’s comfortable in crowds by holding her hand. ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥 when he compliments her and she can feel her face getting warmer. ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥 with the way his hugs make her feel so happy. The way he kisses her with so much 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 she feels like she’s under those dazzling lights of the stage. When he performs on stage with his group while his voice vertebrates within her soul. Nene loves Toya because he’s so 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥 with everything he does.

𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖·𝕝𝕪: 𝕖𝕩𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕦𝕝

𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥·𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥: (𝕠𝕗 𝕒 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕣 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟) 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕖; 𝕕𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕪 𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥.

[nohkalikai]

pretend i'm oversharing here

[puppysdog]

the dnd movie was the most man written movie ive seen in a while. whyd they do that w sophia’s character

[ratatoastwrites]

Victoria’s secret

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

nsfw, 18+ MDNI

a/n: munch spencer, we all say in unison 😫 i wrote this cuz i was bored at the mall lol, does that count as public indecency? haha jk, but that is lowkey what this blurb is about ✨😮‍💨 also special challenge, take a shot every time i use the word lace lol

cw: oral (f receiving), tiny bit of fingering, bit of rough kissing yum, lingerie (obvi), umm kinda public indecency tbh lol, borderline exhibitionism ig but it isn’t really mentioned just subtext ig, uhhh what else, oh yea friends to lovers kinda (or fwb if u fancy, it is kinda vague), no written aftercare cuz again i just couldn’t be bothered, also this is an unedited & no beta & english is my second language mess as per usual mwah 🧚‍♀️

also also special shout out to @apple-pie-and-impala for never getting annoyed with me about the way that 90% of our text msgs revolve around this man 🤭 love ya, my little enabler 🫶

When you first asked Spencer to go lingerie shopping with you, he didn’t think much of it

He honestly believed that it was just going to be a normal hangout between two friends, because really, there wasn’t anything inherently sexual about the prospect of an adult person wearing underwear

Well, that thought lasted until about five seconds after he stepped into the store with you

It was hard not to let his thoughts wander as he watched you running your fingers across the lace fabric of a matching lilac set, his breath catching in his throat as he imagined you actually wearing it

He watched you pick out a few sets, his heart hammering in his chest as his head filled with more and more sinful thoughts

So when you coyly asked him if he wanted to accompany you to the back (your excuse being that you didn’t want to get bored all alone back there), he didn’t even hesitate before nodding vigorously

As he sat in one of the chairs just outside the fitting room you were in, he contemplated that this might be his purgatory

He could hear the rustling of your clothes, and he knew that you were wearing those torturous sets of lace, and yet he couldn’t do anything about it, forced to sit tight and listen to your chatter through the curtain, trying to will away the painful hardness in his pants

“Spence, could you come in here for a second? The straps are a little loose, and I can’t quite reach the clips.”

He froze for a moment at your seemingly innocent request, before standing up on shaky legs and pulling the curtain to the side just enough for him to slip inside the small, closed space next to you

When he finally turned to look at you, he almost collapsed on the spot

You were wearing a white set with intricate lacing that left hardly anything to the imagination, your hands cupping your breasts to keep the bralette from slipping down, the straps hanging loosely over your shoulders

As soon as your eyes locked together, the air seemed to crackle between you, and he wasted no time pushing you against the nearest wall and kissing you like his life depended on it

He was a needy mess in just a few seconds as his hands glided across your skin, mapping every inch of your body that he could reach, while he familiarised himself with your taste

Your hands pulled on his hair as he sunk to his knees in front of you, and you had to bite down on your bottom lip as you watched him pull the dainty panties you were wearing to the side, his puppy eyed gaze making you weak in the knees

You gasped as you felt him press a tentative kiss on your clit, having to slap a hand over your mouth as he immediately followed it up by lapping at your wet folds enthusiastically

He had you shaking in a matter of minutes, eating you out like your pussy was his ambrosia and he had been starving for years

You had to balance yourself on the wall as he put one of your legs over his shoulder, his tongue exploring your insides, the new angle making his nose nudge against your clit with every move

He replaced his tongue with two of his fingers, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking on it like it was his favourite dessert in the world

You gripped his hair tightly as you came with a loud gasp of his name, rutting against his face, the vibrations of his whimpers making your eyes roll back in immense pleasure

His tongue worked you through it all, licking up your juices languidly, until you had to push his head away when your eyes started tearing up from overstimulation

It was safe to say that you ended up buying that set, walking out of the store hand in hand with Spencer, before leaving the mall to go back to his place, eager to return the favour

[k-atsukibakugou]

god is a bit of a freak, why's he watching me getting railed on the couch, staying pure for a wedding, he's got fucked up priorities — aka an ancient, obsolete god of fertility hears your prayer

pairing: fertility god!katsuki bakugou x fem!reader w/c: 2.8k warning/s: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), references to sex rituals and safe sex lmao, i think that's everything, mostly lead up notes: sorry i wrote this fucked up from a cold lmao i hope u all enjoy either way! inspo/acknowledgements: god is a freak by peach prc ty @kweenkatsuki-fics @aquadenks @peachsukii @rabbbitseason for ur interest teehee

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

the ancient tongue was dead, dying a slow death as all languages did, evolving again and again with every civilisation that rose and fell, until it faded into obscurity. with the death of their language, their communication with their believers, the gods faded, too, their followers dwindling more and more as their names were buried along with the civilisations they led. once adored, worshipped, feared, now, their names only existed on scrolls, yellowed and deteriorated beneath layers of mortal history, unspoken in aeons.

katsuki kicked the door shut behind him, the bag of produce in his hand swinging back and forth with the movement. there was once a time where he was lavished with offerings of food he now had to purchase; countless altars he tended to piled with vegetables, wines, fire, soil, blood, accompanied with prayers to answer. he'd all but assimilated into living as a mortal; cooking (he was grateful, at least, for electric stoves, cooking lerthargically over a fire not quite how he wanted to spend eternity), showering, learning, exploring and working alongside the humans that once lived in his shadow.

he was one of the first to deflect from utopia, to abandon his temple, to give up on the belief that the gods, their language could return to how it was, and with it their followers. katsuki had simply grown bored of waiting alone in the stone temple, of wandering the perimeter hoping to find a lost mortal he could grant a miracle to, to find a mortal to bring meaning to godhood again. after all, what was a god without his believers?

he hadn't given up his blessings or miracles, albeit on a smaller scale than he once had, he still granted wishes as he had in utopia's heyday, the offerings he received now smiles across counters as people passed along paperwork, hoping to be one of the lucky ones, praying over pregnancy tests in bathrooms instead of in his altar. he gave up godhood, but he refused to give up his miracles, even if the mortals didn't know he was responsible.

the pot was finally at a rolling boil, his knife poised above the produce when he felt it, the sensation freezing his blood in his veins, the pull of a prayer in his veins, an echoing whisper of his name lighting his nerves alight. the god freezes, blond hair slipping into his eyes as his ears burnt, twitching at every noise, waiting to hear the sweet sound of the prayer once more.

"bakugou."

his face falls from shock to a scowl almost immediately, his pupils dilating, his skin itchy from adrenaline, his stomach twisting. it couldn't really be his name. this couldn't be a prayer. not after all this time.

the obsolete incantation runs off your tongue seamlessly; almost melodic, light as you cite the prayer carved into the stone at the base of his statue, your dialect nothing like what the prayer used to sound like, but the more you read, the harder he finds it to hate. your voice clouds his head, every word past your lips making the fog denser behind his eyes. there was a dull pain alongside it, an ache that pulsed with your every breath, the pain of a prayer.

the call of the prayer felt… foreign after so long (a millennium he thinks? maybe more, maybe less, years, decades, centuries and millenniums all blurred into one for immortals), katsuki was accustomed to the silence every god feared, the silence of being abandoned by your believers, of dwindling power and control. even with how it was feared, this almost felt worse; a single prayer cornering him in the kitchen after an aeon alone, a single spotlight in the darkness worse than the endless pitch black.

"told you it was bull." barefoot, he paces back and forth in the apartment, shifting uncomfortably as you traced a fingertip over the carved inscription, the touch feeling as if it was on the very nerves of his scalp, down the curve of his spine, catching on every bump of his vertebra. crimson eyes droop, a thick hand rubbing at the bridge of his nose, an attempt to soothe the pain of your voice bouncing around his head, the sensation of your touch on his effigy.

"hey, stop that," your giggle almost has his feet sliding against the tile, nearly tumbling backward as he stops in his tracks; his muscles straining to follow the magnetism of your voice, the melody of your intoxicating laugh while he rationalises your existence at all.

"is that why you brought me here, huh? you think being in some ancient sex temple means you'll get some?"

perks of being a god: immortality, immeasurable strength and influence, impenetrable skin (with maybe a couple flaws). downsides of godhood? the power of their followers over them.

it was… overwhelming, the itch beneath a gods skin when a devout believer called their name, the weight of a prayer, the unshakable desire to follow the call. thankfully, the perks also included the facilities to do so; something akin to teleportation, the voice like a blinding beacon in the night, guiding the god.

once upon a time, civilisations ago, it was a lot, too much, the night always lit like it was daylight with the light his followers cast out. his temple existed for this very reason, devout believers building the god a home, a sanctuary for the light of his followers, complete with the marble sculpture of the built god. then, it was at the centre of the village he ruled over, now, you and your lover had hiked up a mountain, and back down into the valley to find it, the stone weathered and covered in vegetation, it was a miracle you'd been able to work your way inside.

dragging his finger over cold stone, every ridge and bump as it once was, katsuki reminisced about a time before the silence, before the darkness, a time when people lined outside his temple with dreams of a child. years ago, women came alone to his temple, clad in robes they'd weaved specially for the fertility ritual (sometimes gifted at their weddings), kneeling in the altar to offer anything they had in exchange for their heir; piles of gold from queens who begged for a prince, beloved and wise to rule their kingdoms peacefully, warriors armed with iron to wish for a knight, strategic and strong enough to return home from battle again and again, farmers gripping their herbs with soil-stained hands, praying for a child born with kindness and thumbs so green the village would survive the winters once more, a marble statue of the god, towering at over 9 feet tall from a sculptor wishing for a child with as much passion for the arts as their parents.

visitors now were only accidental, stumbling upon the temple in the darkness of the valley, seeking shelter, safety, protection. never a prayer tumbling from their lips for an heir (he answered their prayers nonetheless, never allowing harm to befall anyone on his blessed grounds).

peeking from behind a pillar overtaken by the vegetation, he finally spotted you.

you sucked the breath from his lungs, walking further into the temple, a cute, mischievous grin tugging on the corners of your soft lips, chasing your lover with your eyes as he spoke, "you don't think it's romantic? fucking in an ancient sex gods temple?"

"he was the god of fertility, not sex." you step onto the age worn sigil by the base of the imposing statue, brushing layers of grey dust away.

you look so similar to the countless women before who laid on his mark, the way you studied the carved sigil carefully, curiosity and stars sparkling in your eyes, a heat burning beneath your skin, adrenaline spiking in your veins. eras ago, women were bare on the sigil, stone icy against their skin as they drew runes, marking their skin with blood, dirt or ink, in the language native to the gods.

"what's the difference?" their voice was low, lips brushing beneath your jaw, biting at the sensitive skin beneath your ear, nimble fingers sliding beneath your shirt to tug it higher, higher, on your torso, tugging the material over your head with a flick of his wrist.

the god was no stranger to topless women, probably seeing hundreds and thousands of them in his prime, but the way the man in front of you toyed with the fat on your chest nearly making his eyes meet the inside of his skull. your allure was impossible to resist when your boyfriend rolls your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, tugging on the sensitive skin to pull a delicious whine from your throat.

the silence had made him soft.

"i've been waiting all day for this," katsuki's blood rushes in his ears when you both fall to the floor, limbs already beginning to tangle together, bodies becoming one at the mouth, at the hips, at the chest. your sweet sounds echo in the temple, increasingly breathless the longer you kissed and nipped and sucked and bit at your boyfriend.

the ancient tongue was dead, katsuki knew that, knew you had no way to know what you'd read, like some naive final girl in a cliche horror film, that the very god you were laid at the base of was real, that he could see and hear you, that his cock throbbed watching you. you had no way of knowing what you'd started. carmine eyes study the beat of your heart in your chest, the way your tits look when your breathing quickens, how irresistible you look when deft fingers trace the seam of your panties.

katsuki prays himself for the first time in his long life that he's the only god to see you right now, to watch your face change the lower your boyfriend travels, dragging his tongue over your skin as he goes (katsuki's thankful for every time the mortal man bites at your skin, for the yelp it elicits anytime his canines sink into your flesh). his fingertips twitch at his sides, itching to finalise the ritual you'd started with the single murmur of his name, the first syllable of a language foreign on your tongue but you'd recited it so naturally.

you exclaim your lovers name with another sweet giggle, his hands now gripping your ass, tugging your obstructive underwear down your pillowy thighs, tossing it as far as he can the moment the garment is free from your ankles.

the god's ears scald at the way you sound when the brunet's tongue flicks against your skin, sucking at your pussy just to draw increasingly needier sounds from your pretty mouth. he's not even watching you and he already knows your hips are jumping from the stone floor, grinding onto your lovers mouth and nose to work yourself closer to an orgasm. your moans echo in the stone temple, bouncing in every corner before travelling back to his ears, tempting his attention to you.

he stays steady, sharp carmine eyes narrowing on the altar.

more specifically, the lump of material atop the bench.

your underwear is draped across like an offering of its own to him, far more lewd than gold, iron and herbs, but it made his core ache when the moonlight caught in the centre of the fabric, a small damp spot glistening in the light.

fuck, it hurts, every nerve aching, screaming to finally put an end his celibacy, unbroken for far too long. he hadn't felt a need for a mortal like this since the beginning of his existence, the pure want filling his head with fog. this is a duty, this power he has, it is what he was made for, there was never this heavy, dense fog filling his head before, no follower making his blood burn like you were. and you didn't even know what you'd done.

bakugou's gaze is finally drawn back to you, your spine arching away from the stone, fingers tangling at the base of your boyfriends skull, tugging the hair harshly as you chanted his name, your hips stuttering, grinding messily back and forth on his face, until you stopped. you were still wound tight, your thighs clamped tight around his ears while you recovered, a dopey, lovesick smile planted firm on your cheeks.

your squeal makes his dick twitch, one last flick of his tongue over your overstimulated clit, blond eyebrows furrowing so hard at the centre it makes his head pound, you were making his head hurt. a desperation to finish the ritual filled his lungs, every breath a reminder of his name on your lips, of your panties across the altar, of your naked body atop his mark.

he needed this, needed to bury his cock in a pretty cunt, to fill you until you were a babbling mess, needed you.

sitting back on his knees, your lover wiped your creamy cum from his chin with the back of his hand, spreading it from his face to his fingers, hardly doing anything to clean the mess you'd made of his mouth.

your boyfriend finally moves out of the way, giving katsuki the front row seat he deserves, your thighs shining with slick the masterpiece he'd come to see. unblinking, he thinks he's squeezing his cock through his pants, he's not sure, too hypnotised by the way your hips still twitched, chasing your boyfriends warmth. onyx and ruby eyes alike study your face, glued to the way your eyes roll into your skull when his fingers, still wet with your cum, trace your clit once more, teasing the entrance of your pussy before circling your sensitive nerves once more.

katsuki knows he's stroking his cock now, frantically tugging at the zipper still preventing him from relief, his fist moving at the same pace you grind your hips down to your lovers hand, sucking his fingers into you, squeezing your cunt around them until your thighs shook. his hips rock into his hands when your tongue lolls from your mouth, your moans getting faster and faster once more.

he has to bite his lip to stifle a groan of his own, his fist pumping faster and faster again, squeezing the base of his cock when you press a kiss as soft as silk to his lips, looping your hips around his, tugging him closer when you came again.

"fuck, baby, next time you cum, it's with my cock inside you." dark hair shields your face from katsuki's vision momentarily, your boyfriend leaning over you, searching his discarded coat for something, tugging it closer and pulling each pocket inside out.

your thighs slip from his hips as he moves, wincing as your thighs made contact with the icy stone instead of his warm skin.

"shit, i think i left the condoms in the backpack," sliding the empty jacket over your chest, you tuck it beneath your arms, clutching it close to you with one hand, the other waving your boyfriend off as he ventured back toward the entrance of the temple, your gaze lingering on his ass until he was out of sight.

another perk of godhood: the blessed ground was subject to the chosen gods whims. some gods had their temples in the centre of labyrinthian mazes, others had their temples impossible to find, buried beneath the earth or deep in the ocean, hidden between mountains, camouflaged in vegetation, some invisible until the winter solstice, or until the new moon. katsuki never quite cared for that, leaving his temple as his followers built it for him, not implementing challenges for believers to prove their dedication like others had, only protecting his hallowed ground. until now.

stone scrapes against stone harshly, the coarse sound painfully invading your ears as the temple entrance seals. you drop the jacket into your lap, rushing to shield your ears from the sound with your palms pressed hard to your ears, searching around the room for your boyfriend, for his protection, katsuki supposes, like a mortal man could save you from the god you summoned, from what you started.

stepping out from the dark corner, his figure casts a sharp, long shadow as he stands to his full height in front of the statue. like this, you look identical to the women he used to bestow his miracles on; splayed on his sigil, staring up at him with dewy eyes (your blown pupils imperceptibly widening when your gaze rakes over his large form, taking everything in; blond mess of hair, darting crimson eyes, ruffled shirt as he rushed to hold it in his mouth watching you get your cunt eaten, his still-unzipped pants and finally the impressive bulge of his cock), your lips parting when he finally relaxes his shoulders, now standing easily at the shoulder of his statue.

"you-re—" your eyes dart between the imposing statue and his steely face, your voice airy, wobbling slightly as you continued, "you're real?"

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[6esiree]

They Barge Into Your Room While You’re Changing

Imagine Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Vox, and Adam walking in on you changing? Well, for the most part, they barge in and catch you in a difficult situation.

Warnings: I suck at these but uhh, NSFW, AFAB reader, Swearing, Usage of terms like good girl/little girl, oral, penetration, smut is brief tho. Not proofread. I wrote this lil thingy super quickly—sorry for the wait! MINORS DNI!!!

Alastor:

The sound of something shattering had Alastor’s ears perking up, but it wasn’t until it was followed by your helpless cry that he grew curious. You seemed…troubled, desperate even, so how could he resist the temptation to barge into your room? But as he whipped open your door, the doorknob rudely slamming against the cheap wooden paneling, he was disappointed but also slightly amused to see you stuck in a rather strange predicament.

“Fuck! Stupid thing—why won’t you come off?” You hissed, struggling to free your arms from a shirt that was nowhere near your size, your knees planted on the carpet. “Alastor? Oh, are you going to stand there and make me feel more embarrassed than I already am, or are you going to help me?” You snapped, your vulnerable state pleasing him. He closed the door behind him, his fingers carefully twisting the lock.

“Oh, forgive me for answering your pathetic cries for help! Perhaps I should take a seat over there,” Alastor gestured to your bed with his cane, bending down to your level, a shit-eating grin on his face, “And watch this amusing scene you’ve somehow concocted as punishment for your attitude, little girl.”

‘Wait, no!’ You started, but Alastor turned on his heel, the tip of his shoe dragging against the carpet fibers and pushing aside the remnants of your bedside lamp. ‘How thoughtful,’ You deadpanned, your bed creaking underneath his weight. Out of all the people who could have barged into your room, why did it have to be Alastor? He was such a pain in the ass, finding enjoyment in watching others suffer.

“What are you waiting for, hm?” You felt the butt end of Alastor’s cane tap at your ass, and you would have cursed him out if he hadn’t flipped your skirt up, the cold material teasingly dragging up and down your clothed cunt. “Go on, darling, I’ll help you if you put on a little show for me.”

You offered him a ‘Fuck you,’ before complying, hooking your fingers into the collar of your shirt, a distant ache coursing through your muscles as you pulled once more. You felt utterly humiliated, but at the same time, you were secretly enjoying what Alastor was doing to you, shivering as his lips parted with a pleased sigh at the sight of your panties bunching up and outlining your cunt due to your wetness.

“For someone who wanted to be helped, you’re being awfully compliant,” Alastor chuckled. You bit the inside of your cheek, however, especially with the sound of a belt being unbuckled gracing your ears. “Tell me, do you want to get fucked by my cane like the filthy little harlot you are?”

“I’m not…going to tell you that,” You stammered, Alastor clicking his tongue in feigned disappointment. Even if you had done so, the tightness in his pants was just too great for him to indulge you. “Very well, then,” He said, tapping your cunt one last time before withdrawing his cane.

You looked over your shoulder, confused by the sudden turn of events. But then he approached you, kneeling down to tear into your shirt with his claw, freeing your arms from the tight cotton prison. ‘Am I receiving compensation for this?’ Alastor hummed, sporting a hefty erection. Of course the bastard had only helped you for his own personal benefit, but you nodded anyway, his eyes widening as you wiggled your ass with a wicked smile on your face.

Lucifer:

Another boring, sleepless night at the Hazbin Hotel—or so that’s what Lucifer thought, the distant sound of a struggle penetrating his ears as he passed by your room. He would’ve continued on his nightly stroll if his feet hadn’t moved outside of his own volition. Well, that’s what Lucifer tried to convince himself as he tentatively pressed his cheek against the door…until the loose hinges suddenly gave him away. At least he was quick to straighten himself out.

“Oh! Hey there—hi! I didn’t mean to do that,” Lucifer coughed, his face flushing in embarrassment as you stared back at him like a deer caught in the headlights, your arms crossed over your chest, obscuring the top half of the tight little, long-sleeved dress you were wearing. “I tried to knock, I swear, but then the door kind of opened up all by itself. Really, I would never—“

“I, uh—I believe you, don’t worry. The hinges are kind of loose…I have a bad habit of slamming doors,” You chuckled, trying to stand up to your full height, but then the sound of fabric tearing echoed throughout your room. “Oh my God, that’s so embarrassing,” You squeaked, “I can’t handle anybody else seeing me like this, though, so could you like, help me out here?”

When you whispered his name with a pleading look on your face, Lucifer quickly closed the door behind him, dragging a random piece of furniture in front of it for extra measure. He tried not to make his nervousness evident as he slowly rounded you, but his fingers gave him away, trembling against your sides. Fuck, it was just so tight, accentuating the curvature of your body almost like a corset would.

“Alright, let’s see here—oh no,” Lucifer said, his fingers hooking underneath your dress from the sides, experimentally tugging it. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t budge, a blush crawling up his neck as it rolled up and revealed more of your skin instead. “Nope, that’s not going to work. How about I lift it up?”

“Please, this thing is practically strangling my arms,” You stuttered. Lucifer wondered how you managed to get it on in the first place, all while he gripped the dress, trying to maintain a respectable distance from you. “Shit, I’m never borrowing anything from Angel’s closet again. He’s so damn skinny.”

Lucifer tried to avert his eyes, but with your ass slowly coming into view, how could he resist stealing a glance—or two, or three, or even four? He felt so guilty, but then you just so happened to lose your balance, bracing yourself on the bed and practically showcasing your half-naked body to him. You offered him a meek apology as you stared at him from over your shoulder. Did you get back up, though? No, not at all.

“Maybe you’ll be able to get it off faster this way?” You suggested, subtly but not so subtly spreading your legs, revealing your damp panties. Lucifer breathed out an ‘Okay,’ pressing his growing erection into you as he leaned in. “Thanks for helping me, Lucifer. I hope you’ll let me repay you for your kindness.”

The moment you decided to balance yourself on the bed, Lucifer knew what you were doing; but your words had his pants pooling around his ankles, his fingers shakily tucking your panties into the inside of your thigh. Nothing could compare to the sight of you spreading your glistening cunt with your dainty fingers, however, your hole pulsating in invitation. Lucifer was so, so glad he chose not to mind his own business as his cock pushed past your folds.

Husk:

Every day you slid onto the barstool in front of Husk, his chest vibrating in amusement as your face lit up at the sight of your favorite drink waiting for you. That’s why the one time you failed to show up, the full glass in front of your vacant spot dripping with condensation and threatening the integrity of the already cheep wooden countertop, he decided to ask around for you. Unfortunately, nobody knew where you were, so Husk found himself at your door.

“Hey, doll, I don’t mean to disturb ya,” Husk started, his ears falling back against his head as a frustrated cry penetrated the wood. “Just wanted to check up on ya—“ but when he heard something shatter, he just had to let himself into your room, his heart sinking into his stomach at the thought of you in trouble.

“What the fuck, who—Husk?” You panted, staring back at him with rosy cheeks and tousled hair, the contents of a broken bottle of perfume leaking into the carpet before your feet. ‘Shit,’ Husk quickly averted his eyes when he noticed you were in the middle of changing, feeling utterly embarrassed but also secretly relieved that you were alright. “Uhh, I guess now that you’re here, do you think you could lend me a hand?”

Husk hesitated, mumbling ‘Ya sure ya want me to help?’ Of course he’d act so abashed, you thought with a snort. You watched him roll his eyes and close the door with his tail, the hinges softly clicking. Slowly, Husk approached you, his pupils dilating as you turned around and pointed out the strings tightly keeping your dress together with your index finger, the very reason you had failed to show up on time.

“Christ, what happened here?” Husk asked, trying to be mindful of his claws as he slowly untied your dress, the strings in all the wrong places. You looked over your shoulder, playfully telling him to shut up before following up with a serious response. “I’ve never worn a dress without a zipper, alright?” You said. “Damn, doll, I can tell. I mean, ya made a proper mess back here.”

“Hey, I wore this for you,” You admitted, your face flushing in embarrassment as Husk chuckled at that, but then relief quickly washed over you at the feeling of him completely undoing the last string. “I appreciate it, but, ya know,” He practically purred into your ear, plastering himself against your back, his hands sliding into your dress to caress your bare hips. “This is enough to please this old man.”

You tossed your head back onto Husk’s shoulder with a sigh, your eyes fluttering shut as his sandpaper tongue seized the opportunity to roughly caress the expanse of your throat. Meanwhile, the once-constricting fabric slipped from your chest down to your stomach, revealing more of your body to him. ‘May I?’ Husk’s question tickled your skin, answering him by pushing your ass back into his growing erection.

“Mm, aren’t ya just the goodest of girls?” Husk groaned, encouraging you to brace yourself on your dresser nearby. When he kicked your legs open, you expected him to unfasten his pants and fuck you til your legs were numb, but no. Instead, he knelt down, hiking a leg over his shoulder and shoving his snout into your clothed cunt, a smile gracing his lips when you gasped. “Is this fine with ya?”

Oh, you were more than fine with Husk eating you out, eagerly nodding as you stared down at him through your lashes. He licked a long, heavy stripe onto you before deciding to tear into your panties with his claw, exposing you to the cold air. ‘I’ll buy ya anotha pair, babydoll,’ Husk said, latching onto your clit, suckling until you were wet enough to handle the spines on his tongue. You secretly thanked yourself for your inability to use a zipper-less dress.

Vox:

The sound of heels clicking against linoleum echoed throughout the hallway, a product of Vox incessantly pacing back and forth. His patience thinned with every passing second, and as exaggerated as it seemed, you were already late to your dinner reservation. Five, maybe ten minutes was perfectly reasonable to him, but half an hour? No, you might as well call it off. When Vox felt himself overheating in frustration, he decided to zap himself into your room.

“Now, what the fuck is taking you—oh,” Vox said, the look of annoyance on his face quickly transitioning into one of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes, trying to understand the situation you had inadvertently designed. “What in the Hell—how did you do this to yourself, exactly?” Vox gestured with his hand, your arms sticking up with the way your dress was pulled over your head.

“It was too tight and I refused to accept that I had gained weight,” You explained, your voice muffled but understandable nonetheless. Vox couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched your mouth move against the fabric. “But then I put it on, and I realized if I even thought about trying to walk in this—look, can you just save me from the embarrassment and get this thing off of me?”

You impatiently bounced on your heels as Vox rounded you, squeaking at the feeling of his claws teasingly raking your sides. ‘Hey!’ You said, the man offering you an insincere apology before tearing into the fabric without your permission. A whine escaped your throat—what a cruel thing he had done, you thought, your favorite dress falling to the ground in two pieces. Seething, you turned around, unbothered by the fact that you were standing in just your underwear.

“You asshole, you didn’t even try pulling it!” You seized him by his suit jacket, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared down at you without a single ounce of regret. “Perhaps you should have specified that,” Vox hummed, clearly unaffected by your display of anger. In fact, he found it rather amusing, and oh, did that piss you off.

“Ah, fuck me! I’m sorry for believing that you had common sense,” You hissed, tightening your grip on his jacket, secretly wishing you had the strength to tear into it like he had with your dress. “Unless you don’t have that implemented in your system, you fucking bucket of bolts,” Vox furrowed his brows, “I suggest you download it—it’ll take you a long way, trust me.”

Bam!—Vox suddenly had you up against the wall, whatever you had on top of your dresser tumbling to the ground. You flinched at the sound of something shattering, but you couldn’t do anything about it, not when Vox had your arms pinned above your head with one hand, the other firmly wrapped around your throat. His claws dug into your skin, instilling a bit of fear in your heart.

“Hey, um, I think you’re forgetting that we could have been having a nice, romantic dinner at one of Hell’s most exclusive restaurants,” Vox started, his screen slightly buffering as he stared down at you. “If you hadn’t been so fucking stubborn.” You had the nerve to speak. “So…what now?” You shakily asked, your throat bobbing underneath his palm.

With an insurmountable speed, Vox had you on your knees, forcing you to watch him unbuckle his belt. ‘I’m going to fuck the shit of your mouth,’ He said, the tip of his cock kissing your chin when he finally freed himself. ‘Come on, sweetheart. It’s the least you can do.’ You hated to admit it, but Vox was right…to some degree. All of this could have been avoided easily. So, you obediently parted your lips, trying not to gag as you swallowed his cock.

Adam:

There was no such thing as barging into your room—at least not if you asked Adam. Your monthly meet-ups consisted of him descending onto your balcony and pushing your doors apart, furling his wings and discarding his mask as he’s welcomed by the heavenly but not so heavenly sight of you sprawled out on your bed. For once, however, Adam arrived about an hour earlier, walking in on you in the middle of a struggle.

“Surprise, surprise! Guess who’s here early—holy shit, babe,” Adam approached you, shocked, your face absolutely flushed as he took in the sight of you in a corset. He personally believed you didn’t need it, but that didn’t stop him from stirring in his robes with the way it accentuated your curves in an ungodly manner. “This is—I mean—wow. You look so fucking gorgeous.”

“I’m glad you think so, seriously. But, um, I’m starting to regret putting it on,” You admitted, dropping your head sort of shamefully. You really wanted to keep it on for Adam, but you had tightened it more than you should have, and now you just wanted to take it off. “I’ve been trying to get it off for a while already, but uh, I went a little overboard. Never worn one before, that’s why.”

Of course, Adam’s face dropped at your admission, but at the same time, he couldn’t have you feeling uncomfortable for your…activities. So, he offered you his help, even though he had not a single idea about how corsets worked. ‘Don’t worry, babe, I gotcha!’ He said, taking one last appreciating look before he rounded you. Yeah, Adam instantly regretted offering himself up—what the fuck was he looking at, exactly?

“Alright, uh, could you guide me through it?” Adam coughed, his fingers hovering above the laces, unsure about where to start. You reached behind you and grabbed his hand, gingerly guiding him. “Just undo these two loops here—pull them at the same time,” He followed your instructions. “Yeah, just like that, baby.” The praise definitely had him blushing.

You let out a sigh of relief as Adam repeated this over and over again, his fingers dutifully working away until he finally finished. ‘Thank you,’ You breathed out, tossing your head back onto his chest, reaching up and tapping his masked cheek. Adam quickly discarded it with a ‘Thump!’, leaning down to meet you halfway. He groaned, the sound of your lips softly gliding against each other exciting him.

“Do you have to take it off?” Adam asked as his hands came down to caress your sides before resuming the kiss. While you didn’t give him a verbal response, the way you groped him through his robes was a reminder of what he came to you for. “Fuck, okay. Maybe some other time, yeah?”

“Mm, you’re going to have to convince me,” You hummed, retracting your hand so you could open the front busk. Adam seized your jaw and placed his thumb on your lower lip, encouraging you to open your mouth. “You’re in for a long fucking night then, babe,” His tongue tangled with yours, eliciting a choked moan from you, “‘Cause I’m not gonna let up on you til you’re screaming ‘Yes.’”

As soon as your corset united with Adam’s mask, he turned you around and hoisted you up into his arms. You squeaked, the bed creaking loudly with your combined weight. His robes came off with a snap of his fingers, but your panties? Oh, he relished in pulling those aside himself. Slowly, his cock pushed past your folds, two fingers affectionately rubbing at your clit while his mouth latched onto your nipple and suckled. Adam was going to convince you, alright.