#poor!reader

[pprodsuga]

i’m serious about you

summary: gojo realizes just how much he likes you when you go on your first date

note: feeling a bit soft for gojo rn so pls enjoy this little scenario…it’s 2am and i just wanna write something before i go to bed <3 gojo is probably a little ooc but this is my blog so!!!

i’m a lil rusty when ur comes to writing fics but i hope u enjoy!

warnings: fluff fluff fluff + she/her pronouns

masterlist :)

“I’m surprised this place is open so late.”

You mutter absentmindedly as you look at the pastries behind the glass, face at a respectable distance while Gojo stands beside you. He leans down to see what you see, his own eye catching the chocolate cake sitting on the top shelf.

“Nanami told me about it a while ago,” he explains. “Says he likes to come here when he can’t sleep since they’re open so late.”

“Do you like this bakery?”

Gojo watches as you pick and choose which pastries you want to try. The girl behind the counter lifts her gaze to him, eyes widening before averting her gaze to the small box in her hands.

“Haven’t tried it, actually,” Gojo says. He rubs the back of his neck when you turn around. “I, uh, wanted to wait. To try it with you, I mean.”

He sees your mouth morph into a shy smile and he can’t help but return it. Gojo turns and orders a beverage from the cashier, watching as her fingers fumble with the buttons before she relays the bill.

You’re about to pull out your wallet when Gojo reacts quicker than you can comprehend. You watch as he gives his credit card to the cashier without batting an eyelash. He laughs when you huff and grumble about being able to pay for the pastries since he paid for dinner, but he bumps his hips with yours and tells you it‘s on him.

You look so perfect under the awful fluorescent lights in your best dress and hair let down. He’s not used to seeing you like this; so carefree without your worries tucked away in that pretty little head of yours.

Gojo used to think he’d make it through life without relying on anyone and that he couldn’t count on other people for his own source of happiness and companionship. But he can’t deny there’s something about you that tugs at his heart strings a bit too aggressively.

This feeling follows him to the morning prior, when he asked you to accompany him to dinner. Gojo had guessed that you liked him more than you let on but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. This new sensation in the pit of his stomach travels with him tonight, especially when he takes a step back to fully absorb the way you look in his jacket. It dwarfs your shorter stature yet Gojo thinks it was made for you to wear.

The girl behind the counter turns around to finish the order, leaving the two of you to your wits for the time being. Gojo senses that this—casual dating or otherwise—isn’t something you do often. He silently thanks Shoko for drilling him about you (likes, dislikes, who you are as a person aside from the so-called friend group you two belong in) because he sees your finger tapping against the side of your leg and decides to make a move.

“I really like spending time with you,” Gojo starts. “I could do this again and again if you let me.”

“Really?” you ask, sounding something akin to disbelief. Your dress follows your movements as you turn around but all Gojo can focus on is the way your cheeks begin to blush. How cute.

He takes a step forward, nodding. “Believe it or not, I really enjoy spending all of my money on cute girls.”

“Is that so?“ you ask with an uptick in your voice. “Wonder if I’m the cutest, then.”

Gojo knows you’re joking by the way you’re smiling at him, but he wants to set the record straight.

“You are,” he says, “because you’re the only one.”

A soft sound distracts the two of you and he looks past your shoulder to see the cashier has set his beverage on the counter. Gojo thanks her and grabs the cup when he notices notices she’s written her phone number on the back of the surface. His stomach drops when he sees your eyes linger on the penmanship.

He panics.

“I must be special.”

Your voice lacks the humor from moments prior, eyes glazing over the written numbers while Gojo pathetically stands like he’s a frozen statue. He doesn’t know why he cares what you think of him nor why he wants to disprove the theory that he can’t settle down because of an innate need to flirt with everything that breathes. He watches you swallow and avert your gaze to the exit sign when he nods furiously.

“Yeah, you are.”

Gojo throws the beverage in the trash can beside him and cups your jaw in both of his hands to pull you into a tender kiss in the middle of a poorly lit bakery with two other patrons. He thinks your lips taste like coconut and sugar, so soft that he could keep his mouth on you forever and never complain.

He must be doing something right because you’re kissing him back.

You pull away first and he laughs at your flustered state, leaning in to press another quick kiss to your lips before you can escape him. He pays no mind to the girl who walks into the back room.

“I’ll spend however long it takes to make you understand that I’m serious about you,” Gojo promises.

“You better send Nanami a thank you card.” You grab the box of pastries. “Taking me here was a good start.”

Yeah, he thinks. She’s the one.

[twi-liight]

Petty Jealousy ❣

Tav's companions cannot fathom them potentially having other friends. ❥ Astarion/reader, Astarion/Tav, but also Companions/reader. I'm a Tavrem supremacist. ❥ Contains my own personal headcanon for why the companions call them "Tav" instead of their first name, which is justification for me loopholing the eternal problem of xreader writers having to wince when they use "F/N" or "Y/N". ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav/reader!

“Look,” Astarion hisses, “look at that!” 

5 pairs of eyes land on the offender of the night (which, to their surprise, isn’t Astarion) who conversed pleasantly with the leader of their party. A half-elf with a sharp jaw, proud brow, and mirthful eyes looks extraordinarily ordinary compared to their merry band of freaks. 

“Who is that, again?” Shadowheart asks absently. “Tav suggested I rest for today instead of mapping out the Underdark with the party, and the next thing I know, they’ve brought back another little companion.” 

Astarion’s jaw twitches. He snaps out, “Companion or complication?”

Gale crosses his arms, shrugging, used to Astarion’s temper running hot then cold. “His name is Nilmorn - a luthier. Tav took an interest in his wares. He makes a living selling stringed instruments in the Underdark. Strange place to sell such things.” 

Ugh. Astarion sighs, shaking his head. Leave it to Gale to traipse over the obvious. A sharpened mind like his would surely know that this Nilmorn has no place here, if not to be a bloodbag for him to slurp on. Beyond that, what use does this pretty boy have? Nilmorn sells wares that are utterly useless to them. He’s quite boring and one-dimensional, too, a character that strays too much into the side of “moral good” for Astarion to tolerate. 

 “Yes, yes, Gale, but have you considered how strange it is that he has invited himself to our camp?” Astarion flares out his hand towards the wizard, as if handing him common sense on his palm. 

“I,” Gale begins, blinking his wet, beautiful brown eyes at Astarion, “invited myself to this journey, Astarion. I am quite hurt you forgot. I thought what we had was special!” 

“Yes, but you’re weird!” Astarion exclaims. “You’re a freak with a bomb in your body because of your situationship with Mystra! That,” Astarion points an accusatory finger in the direction of Nilmorn, in which 5 pairs of eyes look at him again, “is someone so unbelievably normal he doesn’t even have any, any…” He gestures, articulates with his hands to placate his words. 

“No dubious motives?” Shadowheart offers, a smirk coyly playing on her lips. 

“No complicated backstory?” Wyll pipes in. Astarion’s eyes flicker to him, and irritation seeps into his skin when he finds Wyll smiling wryly, as if the warlock is in on some joke he is not picking up on. “No, I don’t know, god that has let him down in some way, shape, or form?” 

“Certainly no skills for fighting.” Lae’zel, thank the gods for Lae’zel. Her smooth voice hides none of her displeasure, and those sharp, slitted eyes stare across the fire to dig daggers into Nilmorn’s back. “Useless. We have no need for string-ed instruments. Let Tav pick one, and send this half-elf on his way.” 

Yes. Yes. Astarion nods eagerly.

“Hmmm. I almost envy his mundaneity,” Karlach adds,  “but I mean, he’s not that bad, Astari. Man’s just trying to make the world a better place, one string at a time.” 

Astarion almost throws up. He looks to the other companions helplessly. “Darlings. Please tell me you are not going to let Karlach get away with saying something so putridly motivational.” 

Karlach tosses her head back and cackles, much to Astarion's chagrin.

“Something is obviously bothering you,” Shadowheart states bluntly. Her green eyes watch his expression carefully in the firelight; she finds something there, but does not say it outright. With an exhale through her nose, as if it is painful for her to attempt a conversation with him, Shadowheart decides to throw him a bone: “Are you jealous?” 

He does not catch the bone. The bone slams right into his head as he stares at Shadowheart, slack-jawed and scandalized. Him? Jealous? “You must be joking.”

“Aw,” Shadowheart croons, another one of her insufferable smirks toying on her lips, “you are.” 

If he had mindflayer powers beyond reading her reprehensible surface-level thoughts, he would make Shadowheart’s head explode. Or something. 

He must establish his dignity in the group once more. He cannot handle more of this, especially not with Wyll grinning so wide, not self-aware enough that if he did not have a sexy demon controlling his life because he didn’t read the terms of conditions of a motherfucking contract, Astarion would bully him more.

“That is not the point here. Look,” he says. “I am just saying that our Tav is desirable in every way. Physically, we can all agree that Tav is attractive. Yes?” 

Yes. They all nod their heads. 

“Tav is a little strange, but they are our leader, and they got us this far somehow. Who knew caring about other people could go a long way.” 

Yes. They all nod their heads, except Wyll and Karlach, who look amongst the group with sheer disappointment on their faces. “Gods,” Karlach groans into her hand, “we– we need to unpack that later, gang. That’s just really sad.” 

“Lastly, Tav is strong. Strong enough to split apart the mountains and the sky, I imagine.” Strong enough to bury Cazador into the ground, hopefully. “Strong enough to face a god unwaveringly. Strong enough to persevere. Strong enough to be kind, despite everything. Despite what they think, they are charismatic, and they are the entire package. The only person who does not know of their value is Tav themselves.” 

They watch Tav’s lips quirk into a smile as Nilmorn holds a lyre out for them upon his smooth hands. Smooth, no sign of scars, no sign of complications. Just so unbearably mundane. Unbearably good. Unbearably kind. 

Unbearably unaware of their true nature.

Nilmorn does not know why they nicknamed them Tav, despite their name being [F/N]. Their unstoppable quench to loot everything and anything set back their timeline by weeks, no doubt. Reaching into barrels, reaching into the pockets of bandits, reaching into damn silk cocoons, reaching into whatever their curious little hands can salvage. It annoyed Astarion at first, but then Tav would find all of these weapons and armors and foods and coins and books. Normalcies and luxuries that made camp life feel less of a drab and more exciting. 

The gleaming, golden dagger at his side? They found it. The boots, the armor, the enchanted rings and necklaces they either found, bartered, or killed for their companions. Thus - Tav, short for tavara, the word meaning wares and merchandise; a clever little nickname Gale came up for their leader who is too good for all of them combined. 

“Any other party could whisk them away, you know,” Astarion says. “Tav could find a party of good, decent people, unlike any of us, without the mess and complication and hurt we cause them, and leave. Remember, my dears. It is not us who is irreplaceable. It is Tav.” 

How long would Tav tolerate him? Not long, he thinks. Long enough until he has expended his use for them, surely, but not forever. That's why anyone who wants Tav beyond sex or strength is a threat. If he hadn’t seduced his way into their heart, he wouldn’t be here where he stands, with a group of people who make him feel a little less alone. 

No doubt he would be in a cage on the back of a covered wagon that belongs to that disgusting gyr, Gandrel, his chain to Cazador growing shorter and shorter.

Silence. Tense and still. They watch as Tav laughs lightly, eyes alighting with amusement as Nilmorn cracks another joke. 

"You should meet my other companions," they hear Nilmorn offer, "I just know they would love to have you."

Revelation slams into each and every one of them like a magic missile.

“He’s not that funny,” Shadowheart mutters. She bends down, hands gripping tightly around the handle of her mace. “I don’t know why they are laughing that hard.”

“He can try to leave with his head on his shoulders,” snarls Lae’zel, “just say the word, Astarion.” 

Excellent. 

“What-” Wyll turns to Gale and Karlach. “We should stop them, shouldn’t we? There are no implications of this man trying to steal Tav away, he's just being nice, you worthless cunts! This is not fair to him!” 

“We’re in the Underdark, aren’t we? Super deep. Doubt anyone who cares for him will come looking for him.” 

“Karlach!” 

“Astute observation! To make this all a little easier on us, I can most certainly put this man to sleep.” 

“Gale?!” 

“Go on, Lae’zel,” Astarion grins wickedly, “attack!”

“Oh, hells,” Wyll stumbles back, then turns quickly to the other direction towards Halsin. “Halsin! Halsin - they’re trying to murder someone again!” 

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

[mrsrookhunt]

Twisted Wonderland, but Yuu tells Rook they know embroidery

Rook: Ah, hats off to you-!

*dramatically sweeps his hat off*

*Sees 'YUU WAS HERE' stitched into the brim*

Rook: ....

Rook: ..Is this...?

*Yuu, already walking away*: I have my ways, Hunt!

*Rook, sobbing*: TEACH ME YOUR WAYS, MON TRICKSTEUR---

[ratskinsuit]

•𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭•

Hazbin Hotel Lucifer Morningstar x gn!Reader

———————————————————————

“Lucifer has been very stressed lately due to all of the work being piled onto him, the things going on in heaven, and Charlie’s hotel idea. So as his loving partner, you decide to help him destress a little bit in a very fun way.”

Tags: Smut, Oral sex, Lucifers little whimpers, exhibitionism? , Dom!Reader (Kind of), Sub!Lucifer, x Reader, Office blow jobs

MDNI

(Please enjoy this fanfic, it may not be the best because I haven’t written smut before, criticism is welcome.)

———————————————————————

You have noticed that recently your husband, Lucifer, has been more stressed than usual. He has been neglecting his needs, locking himself in his room and burying himself in his work. He hasn’t been eating as much and he has bags under his eyes. You rarely see him out of his office, never seeing him at any meals.

So you decided that you would go and try to convince him to take a break. You made him some tea and something for him to eat, a grilled cheese, some warm tomato soup, and some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. After gathering all of the food on a tray, you head off to his office. Once you reach the office you put the tray in one hand and knock on the door three times.

“Come in.” You hear his tired voice say from the other side of the door.

You grasp the door knob and with a hum push it open and step inside, closing the door behind you.

At his desk Lucifer looks wrecked. He is sitting in his dress pants and a dress shirt, wrinkled and messed up, his sleeves pulled up to his biceps. His face furrowed in concentration, his eyes slightly bloodshot, with bags under his eyes. One of his hands is in his hands in his hair, gripping it tightly between his fingers in frustration, his bling licks messy.

He looks up as you enter and smiles tiredly. “Ah hello my love, do you need something?” He asks, sitting up straighter and trying to fix his shirt to not worry you.

You hum and bring over the tray setting it on his desk. “Well I know how stressed you have been lately, so I brought you some lunch and tea.” You say, setting his food out for him.

He gives you another smile, hey this time Warmer. “Oh thank you so much hunny, I completely forgot about eating.” He says, taking a sip from the tea and sighing.

You smile at him, and go behind the desk, stroking his hair with one hand, and the other rests in his shoulder, his face softening as you play with his messy locks, a most comfortable look now on his face.

“You really should take a break you know, all this stress isn’t good for you.” You say, and in response he lets out another sigh. “Well I can’t just take a break whenever I want, I mean I have duties hunny, I can’t just abandon them.”

“Are you sure? Not even just a tiny break?” You try to reason, your hand continuously petting his hair, and the other massaging his shoulder, trying to convince him. It seems to be working a bit, as he relaxes into the chair his eyes half lidded, yet his stubbornness still prominent.

“I don’t know…” He murmurs, rolling his arms as you massage them.

You pout, taking your hands off of him, causing him to whine a bit. You think for a moment, before an idea comes to you, a mischievous smirk making its way onto your face.

He notices it immediately and gives you a questioning look. “What are you thinking about hun?”

”Well how about I give you a little stress reliever while you work, hm?” You say, and before he can say anything getting on your knees and crawling under the desk.

“W-wait hunny what are you doing..? We can’t do this, s-someone might walk in, and- and I have to…” He trails off with a whimper as you begin to unzip his pants.

“Just keep quiet and keep doing your work and nobody will know.” You say with a wink, as you take out his red, already leaking cock.

He stares down at you before resting his arms on his desk, and whimpering, already breathing noticeably harder, even though you haven’t even touched him yet.

You stroke him a couple couple times. “Go on handsome, keep doing your work.” You say teasingly, and he whines a bit, grabbing his pen and trying to resume reading and signing.

You move your head closer to the head of his throbbing member, giving him a few kitten licks causing him to jolt,

“D-dear I don’t think I can do m… my work like this…” He say quietly, looking at you with a pleasing look on his face.

You ignore it, giving him a quick smirk as you begin to lick all around the shaft, starting from the base and moving up, earning you a groan from the man above.

You suck on the tip, swirling it around in your mouth with your tongue.

“F-..fuck darling ple- agh.. please stop teasing me…” Lucifer whimpers, squirming in his seat, panting harder now.

You continue to ignore it, your your tongue pressing against the slit, a loud moan rumbling above you.

You glance up to see your husband looking worse than before, his cheeks red, eyes watery, and hair somehow even worse than before. “My lah… love please…” He begs, more tears welling up in his eyes.

You decide to give him a break, and slowly start taking him into your mouth, going deeper down his shaft as he lets out a moan.

“Oh h-hell please p-p-lease oh agh… hng…” He moans, and squirms, obviously very pent up. He tries to thrust up into your mouth but you place my hands in his thighs, digging your nails into them, pulling an unhappy whine.

Once you reach the base you begin bobbing up and down, your tongue massaging his shaft.

“Oh h-hu- d-darling… please, I- Hng… I… hah.. fuck.. please..” Lucifer squirms and and moans loudly above you, one hand tangled in his hair, the other on the desk, breathing heavily, his eyes closed in pleasure, cheeks flushed.

With one of your hands you massage the inside of his thigh, causing him to get louder. “Please, I want- darling- m-mmm, nhg… please.. wanna, I need to- fuck…gonna- g’nna c-“ He babbles above you, barely able to make sentences, yet you can tell his close.

While you desperately want to tease him you decide against it, knowing he would probably break down with how stressed he already is.

You begin to suck and bob faster, you husband whining and pleading above you, you determainef to make his reach his peak.

“W-a- agh.. c-come.. fuck, gonna HNG, d-arling oh s-sa- Ang..” A few moment later mr moans out and releases, you swallow it all down, riding him through his orgasm until he is overstimulated and trying to get away.

You release him with a pop, standing up and wiping your mouth. Lucifer looks 10x worse than before, his hair sweaty and sticking out in all different ways, his face flushed red, his eyes half lidded and teary, still shaking from the aftershocks.

Despite this you give him a kiss on the forehead and a pat on the head. “I expect to see you at dinner tonight.” You say, before leaving.

———————————————————————

Well there is my first ever smut fic, and first fic in years! Criticism is accepted. Hope you enjoyed!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[casiia]

dad simon can NOT handle when his kid has a tantrum. he’s the kind of dad that will either throw candy in their face to shut them up or hand them off to you. he doesn’t want to raise his kids upon scolding and raised voices so he will just pinch the bridge of his nose and hold his tongue until you can get to it.

you’re so much better at it than he is, instead of bargaining with them or having them get their way, your brain works quick and you reassure them that eventually they will get what they want as long as they wait — because simon riley’s kids are anything but patient.

whenever simon tries to settle them down, he ends up making it worse. he never understand why they are so upset in the first place; because majority of the time, they’re crying over things that they have done! frustrated that they put their shoe on the wrong foot. angry that when they went to check the cupboard, their favorite snack is gone because they had finished it the other night.

he would say “it’s not a big deal. quit your whining,” and obviously, they do the exact opposite. you would help them, fix their shoes or tell them that their are other snacks they can eat.

whenever simon tries to ease his kid, he’ll end up giving them exactly what they want. kid wants to eat ice cream before dinner? he’s starting the car. kid needs to have the newest video game? he’ll buy it. you scold him, and he pretends to understand — but simon will do it all again to avoid a little screaming and crying.

[danijaci]

"jealous, jealous, jealous boyy.." ft. scara

[luvlyycy]

law is such a pathetic man. especially when he eats pussy, he gets so drunk— lips all sticky as he fingers your pussy, moans coming from him as he ruts his clothed cock onto the mattress.

"s'good. it's so fucking good." he groans, mouth open and licking at your clit— he's praying, fucking hoping that you squirt in his mouth— all over his face. everywhere, fucking drench him in your spunk— ruin him by rutting your pussy into his face, mouth, nose, lips— everything.

"mmm, traffy— babyyy. m'g'nna cummm..—"

fucking finally.

[wrioluvr]

thinking about wriothesley giving you a handjob ♡

no pronouns for reader, reader has a cock

thinking about wrio doing his best to please you. you thought he was joking when he offered to help you relieve some stress, until he took off his gloves and pulled you into his lap, whispering lowly into your ear to show him your cock.

"hmm. somebody's packing." he smirks as your cock springs to its full glory, admiring from over your shoulder. "don't say shit like that, it's embarassing!" you whine, not used to having this much attention on it. but from wrio? you were so turned on, it was throbbing, begging to be taken care of.

he starts by spreding your legs open a little, so he can rest his hands on your inner thigh, gently caressing it to get you even more aroused. his large hands, weathered from many years of running fortress of meropide, start running up and down your length. your own precum served as lubricant, heightening the sensation of every scar's roughness teasing your cock. he pays extra attention to your tip, making a circle with his index finger and thumb, and moving it in circular motions around your head like it was a fleshlight, while his other hand plays with your balls. (if you're uncut, he makes sure to pull the foreskin back just below the head, or make you grip him tightly by running a finger between your foreskin and head in circles until it's red and weeping. cruel, i know.) he knew exactly what he was doing, and it was driving you crazy.

"damn, wrio...where'd you learn that?" you pant out, barely able to keep your eyes open.

"oh you know...here and there."

"what the fuck does that me- hnnnnfgh." you can't help but swallow your words as he makes the special effort to run both his hands from the base all the way to the tip. he smirks, enjoying the noises you were making.

"tell me, has any another man in fontaine touched you like this yet?"

"uhmm....no...."

"i can tell you're lying."

"f-fine....lyney did....."

"you're telling me that little twink got to pleasure you before i did?" you feel his hands tighten their grip around your cock even harder, eliciting another groan from your lips. "yeah..but....but like...it wasn't anything serious...." defending your whorish behaviour is kinda hard when you're being milked to your last drop.

"no matter. i'll make you cum so hard you forget all about him, alright? ♡" placing his palm face down onto your tip, he rubs it sensually, not minding at all how his hands were practically coated with your fluid. you leaned back into him, unable to speak, only able to let out moans, and just letting him torment your cock. quickening his pace, he starts to jerk you off even more intensely, but being the tease he is, he speeds up when he notices you not moaning his name, and slows down when you start to pant louder. he places two fingers on your frenulum, rubbing the sensitive area in circles. that was the last straw. "fuck, wait- wrio! not there- aaaAAH! ♡" rutting your hips into his hands, you let out a fat load all over him, some of it spilling onto his thighs. your face is one of pure bliss, leaning your head on his shoulder and breathing heavily, taking a moment to compose yourself. wrio removes his hands from your cock, staring fondly at how your thick cum drips from his fingers.

"i'm glad you enjoyed that, but you got some on my desk, darling."

"shit....sorry."

you wonder how you should tell lyney about how you can't come fuck his ass next week...

[emomensimp]

Matthew after having to deal everyday with his mopey wet cat emo boss 's bullsh*t

[madamesteam]

Another silly idea from Pinterest. Doodle while I break from requests. Law popped into my head first as who would respond like this lol. Post was not tagged with a handle.

[meowpupp]

tw// overstim++, hybrid smut, bondage, gag, price and simon are assholrs, JUSTICE FOR JOHNNY ‼️

pup!johnny, who's been such a good boy for owner!simon recently. while pup!reader, been the complete opposite for owner!price.

you've been whining and yapping for attention constantly. you're desperate for attention and pleasure. spending most your time rutting against anything you can find. your big puppy eyes were at first endearing when you pawed at his cock, but it quickly stopped being cute.

price has had enough. you're so desperate, he can't get anything done. there's a thin line between needy and annoying, and you've definitely crossed it.

meanwhile, soap has been such a good boy. listening to each and every one of simons commands, keeping his grubby paws off his cock. he even resisted you during your weekly playdate. keeping his hands (and cock) to himself. even despite your pitiful attempts to grind on his thigh.

and so, naturally, there's an obvious conclusion here. two birds, one stone.

when simon tells soap that he's having an extra playdate with you this week, he knows something is up. it's unusual. playdates are normally a bargaining chip for good behaviour. but then again, being rewarded is something johnny never protests.

he had expected the usual, not this. as soon as he entered prices house, Simon gave him an order to follow. and so he did, only to find you bound, gagged, and desperate. all for him.

you're a sight, one that would make even the strongest man rock hard. wrists tied behind your back with pretty pink ribbon. you're dressed in white lace, the lingerie hugging each curve and roll. price had dressed you up for the pup. even going as far as gagging you, the pink dogbone shaped silicone making you drool all over the sheets.

you're already a wreck. your slick shines as it drips down your thighs. the white lace of your panties is translucent, wet fabric clinging to your prrtty cunt. the vibrator price used to torture your pretty clit tossed on the bed beside you carelessy. johnny's eyes dart all over the scene, drinking in each detail.

he can barely hold himself back, but he does. after all, he's a good boy. simons good boy. but it doesn't matter in the end. a large hand squeezes the back of his neck, simons deep voice growling in johnny ear as he speaks. "all yours, pup. show price how good you've been."

it takes him less than a second to act. johnny can't hold himself back, gipping your hips tight. you can barely take a breath as before he rups through the lace of your panties. he isn't nice like normal. instead of slowly lapping at your clit until it's swollen and desperate beneath his tounge, slowly stretching your tight cunt with his fingers- he forces his cock deep inside your swollen cunt.

he knows its mean. the way your cry and squirm beneath his tells him youve already cum multiple times. but it only makes you more fun to fuck. your greedy cunt sucks him in, a lewd squelch filling the room with each thrust.

johnny doesn't care if your sore cunt can't take it. he's not fucking you to make you feel good, this is his. his reward. his pleasure. his time to feel good.

his body is so taught and tense. each thrust is a reflection of that. his cockhead slams against your g-spot, merciless as he seeks his own pleasure. he doesn't stop, does slow. he refuses to.

even when you've cum 3 times, even when your sore, puffy cunt is stuffed full with his cum. johnny runs himself ragged. his pace frantic and feral even as you struggle. you sob and whimper into the sheets, giving price your best puppy eyes as try you beg for mercy despite the gag.

but he doesn't give it. "shhh, shh love. s'your punishment. this is what happens to horny pups like you." he growls as a big hand on the back of your head presses your face to the bed below you.

price and simon don't pay attention to you. ignoring your little squeals and yelps as johnny continues to pound into your over-sensitive cunt. they rub salt into the wound, praising the feral pup as he ruins you.

"such a good boy," "you can do better than that baby," "cmon now, harder. she's a toy johnny, use 'er."

they let johnny fuck you till he cant. your ass red and hot from his hips slamming into you, cunt puffy and swollen. johnny shoots blanks before he pulls out. he's whisked away by simon, praised by his owner till his dizzy. meanwhile, price cups your cheek, forcing your hazy eyes to meet his. "learnt your lesson? gonna be a good girl f'me now?" he smirks as you nod, not sure if you even understand what he said.

[fxiryeon]

*Y/N and Luke staring into each other’s eyes*

Percy: *Pops open a can of soda*

Luke: Percy what the hell man, Y/N and I were having a moment

Percy: And I’m having a dam coke

[xiao-come-home]

Here's a Boothill thought: if his lover ever cheers him on during a fight, he gets super pumped and starts showing off. A lot.

Heck, it's not even an intense battle anymore. You're watching some poor guy getting tossed around like a cartoon character while Boothill makes a show for you.

YES ABSOLUTELY!!

If Boothill notices you're watching him fight, duh! Cheering on him, even - he feels his body getting filled with adrenaline, and boy, he does deliver you a show you deserve!

Once the angelic voice of yours reaches his ears, Boothill wastes no time - he readjusts his hat and takes the grass blade out of his mouth, fully spreading his arms before turning around to look you in the eyes, "watch me closely, sweet pea!" A pistol emerges from his left arm, "Don't ya dare take those pretty eyes off of me!"

And well, you can't even take your eyes off of him, because watching that poor dude getting absolutely demolished by Boothill almost makes you feel bad. Except the cowboy doesn't even feel tired, even if the battle took hours already, no - it's barely the beginning.

And he shows. Off. SO. Much. He's kicking them so hard they end up flying, and before they even have a chance to see the floor again, Boothill's lips part from yours, a familiar shade of red flashes in his eyes and poof! He's back to beating them up again, flashing probably the juiciest poses the aeons have seen.

The more impressed you are, the more joy he feels - except at this point, it's almost animalistic - he spits out bullets like crazy, occasionally sending you a wink to give your heart a familiar, warm squeeze.

[deeversuswords]

‧˚₊ Your fault

pairing: bakugou katsuki/gn!reader summary: Katsuki and his attempt at proposing. word count: ~200 words contains: fluff • ao3 link

When Katsuki decides to propose to you, he wants it grand and memorable—particularly memorable. His guarantee, in case you were no longer his and some loser wanted to marry you. He needs you to remember him, to hesitate because of him. He’s selfish and knows it, but what can he do? It takes months to prepare for it. Months that turn out to be a challenge, one he’s prepared for. He’s picky and his standards have no concept of the sky being the limit. Between work and you, Katsuki searches and learns and, eventually, puts his plan into action. But, as the big day approaches, it all backfires. And it’s all your fault. If you had more restraint and stopped making his heart do all these crazy things that leave him stupid and overwhelmed, maybe then, he wouldn’t be on one knee in the middle of your shared bedroom with the sunlight warming his bare back at seven in the morning. Maybe then, he wouldn’t reach for your hand to bring it to his lips to press a loving kiss on your ring finger. Maybe then, he wouldn’t give you a look that betrays how deep his love runs before his voice, hoarse with sleep, says. “Just marry me already.”

[braindead4l]

bud just called me poor in all the languages known to man 😹😹

[mochinomnoms]

Omg that’s so funny. Like the boys ask you to hold smth for them really quick and you put it in your boobs 😭😭😭

Azul would put you to good use and give you his random little trinkets he carries around

Malleus would be fascinated with how you figured you could hold all that

Leona would start putting his hand in them as a pocket to heat him up 💀💀

-🌑

YEAH TITTY POCKETS quick snippet before I go to bed:

Riddle was walking past the cafeteria when he noticed a small crowd forming around the table that the Prefect, Grim, Ace, and Deuce would normally sit at. A sense of dread filled him as he approached, positive that one of his freshmen was up to some trouble again.

So imagine his surprise when he walks up and sees a bunch of students, from various years and dorms, surrounding you as they handed you items. Imagine his even bigger shock when you, making direct eye contact with Riddle, smile at him as you take a small notepad from a random hand and stuff it into your breasts.

It takes a moment for him to realize that you've undone your tie and unbutton your shirt to reveal a healthy amount of cleavage, the hem of your white lacy (Oh heavens, he thinks it's lace, wait why is he looking!?) peeking at him.

“Oh, hey Riddle—”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOUR SHIRT—DID YOU JUST—GAH!” Riddle launched himself over the crowd to clutch your shirt and tug it closed, face in his signature red.

“Hey! What's the big deal!” Riddle whipped his head over to see Ruggie pouting, holding a handful of granola bars.

“I was gonna see how many granola bars they could fit—”

“This is utterly indecent! Why are you allowing this Prefect? What even led up to this?!”

“Oh!” You perked up, grabbing and gently pushing his arms off you. “I was telling Ace and Deuce how I can fit up to 19 items into my boobs for storage, 10 if they're bigger. 3 if they're really big though, like a cell phone!”

He stared at you with confusion, flushing again as he saw you take three bars from Ruggie, adjust your…boobs, and start sliding the items in. As if this was a normal thing.

“Why are you acting like this is normal?”

“…. Because it is? Riddle, as someone with titties,” you ignored his scandalized gasp. “I gotta take advantage. These girls may hurt my back, but they also make excellent pockets. Look!”

You took a potion bottle from a different hand, smoothly sliding your hand down the side of your right breast. Taking a moment to adjust again, you stood up with your hands on your hips, looking proud.

“Look at my boobs and tell me how many items I have in them. Right now!”

Riddle gasped, “I will not, that is so, so, so indecent—”

“10!”

“25!”

“8!”

You snapped your fingers at a random Ignihyde student, grinning as you shouted, “Correct! You get a prize, lemme just—”

You took a moment to dig through your bra, as Riddle listened in to the students around him make comments.

“Is it wrong to find this hot?”

“Dude, why can't I have boob pockets?”

“Oh my goooood, am I into this? I think I'm into this.”

“That's actually kinda useful, not gonna lie.”

You cried out triumphantly, holding out a lollipop and handing it over to the Ignihyde student, who shrugged and accepted the candy.

“See Riddle? Useful, you can ask me to carry anything you want—”

“I will do NO such thing!” He scoffed, crossing his arms indigently, “I am a self-respecting housewarden of Night Raven College, and I'm offended at the implications that I'd do such a thing with your... you know.”

He gestured as Azul casually walked up, the crowd parting for him and the twins.

“Hello, my dear Prefect, can you hand me the spare punch cards I gave you? We ran out faster than anticipated this week.”

“Oh yeah, here” You dug through your left breast, taking out a small bundle of Mostro Lounge punch cards. “I ended up giving out a few to some guys, so expect a few new customers this weekend”

Azul smiled and nodded at you, taking the cards from your hand.

“That's fine, thank you, Prefect. I come by again later to grab the rest of my items.”

“Okie! See ya, byeee!”

You waved him goodbye, turning back to Riddle, who, once again, looked at you scandalously.

“… What?”