#goes deviously hard

[quickfixinator]

sooooo real.

you singlehandedly got me into engiemedic. thank you for your service and also for the beautiful art and also for transgender engineer 🫡

HOORAY!!!!!!!!!! thank you!!! trans engie will always be my favorite hc

[kthologue]

Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀

she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz

notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.

“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously. 

“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”

shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.

utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer. 

“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.

intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”

“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.

“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial. 

utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.

“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly. 

“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards. 

utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”

from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.

with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.

bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.

“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.

“as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”

“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.

a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.

“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?”  satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.

“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.

during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress. 

“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.

“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”

you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.

“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.

 you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.

“that’s what love does to a man.”

“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.” 

 satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.

“how much?”

“excuse me?”

“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you. 

you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.

shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!” 

suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”

“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.

she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”

you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.

trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”

“i’m buying you that dress.” 

“o-okay.” 

half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.

perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.

it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.

as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.

breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"

his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.

“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”

gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.

"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.

the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.

“what?”

“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”

“oh.” 

silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.

satoru can only watch, entranced.

“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.

satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.

but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.

his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.

you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.

"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.

“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.

you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”

“great, it’s a date!” 

good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.

maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.

[misctf]

I just love your twink stories so much, just overall cockshrink stories of yours are immaculate. Thank you so much!

Of course! I hope you enjoy this one too!

New Year New Me

Derek grinned as his boyfriend kissed his cheek and rubbed his hand against his chest. Despite dating for two years, the passion was still there. And Derek couldn’t think of a better way to spend the New Year than with his boyfriend at a couple’s resort nestled away in the woods.

“I love you babe.” Derek kissed his boyfriend, his hands caressing his lover’s cheek.

Paul was perfect. Besides being one of the nicest and funniest guys he’d ever dated, the physical attraction was certainly there. Not to mention they were totally compatible. Derek being a total top, while Paul was a strict bottom. He loved how desperate Paul could be too- always the more submissive of the two. And as they got into bed, Derek instinctively goes to be the big spoon.

“Hey babe,” Paul says, “Would you mind if I try being the big spoon tonight?”

Derek raises an eyebrow, “You want to be big spoon tonight?” He smirks, “What’s gotten into you?” He jokes and Paul smiles deviously.

“You’re always the big spoon, I kinda wanna try it out.” He chuckles, “New Year, new me?” Derek looked at Paul with amusement, but also a hint of curiosity. 

“Alright babe, we can give it a shot.” 

He said with a grin, scooting over to let Paul take position behind him. As soon as their bodies made contact, Derek felt a strange tingling sensation wash over him. His skin prickled and he shivered slightly.

“What's up?” 

Paul asked, noticing the change in his boyfriend's demeanor. Derek tried to shake off the feeling, attributing it to the unusual positioning. But the sensations intensified. He tried his best to ignore them.

“Nothing, I’m good.” Derek mumbled, blinking his eyes a few times.

Derek's mind began to fog slightly as the tingling spread through his body. His thoughts grew hazy and his vision blurred at the edges. Paul's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, and Derek felt himself melting into his boyfriend's embrace.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Paul whispered in his ear, his breath hot against Derek's skin.

The words sent a thrill through Derek, but it wasn't just arousal. Something deeper, more primal, was stirring within him. Derek nodded, thinking it odd how Paul's voice took on a somewhat lower tenure. Not to mention the confidence. Usually he liked more submissive guys. But Paul's sudden confidence made his dick stir.

“So good.” He replied, nestling closer to his boyfriend. Derek's cock hardened fully, straining against his boxers as a new kind of desperation seized him. He wanted to be held, worshipped, fucked...hard, “Mmm, I love you so much, Paul.” Derek slurred, his voice taking on a higher, more nasally tone, “You're the best thing that ever happened to me.” He pressed back against his boyfriend, grinding his ass against Paul's crotch.

“Fuck babe...” Paul grunted.

Derek moaned loudly, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he felt Paul's hardening bulge press insistently against his ass.

“Oh god, Paul, please...” Derek whimpered, his hips bucking back against his boyfriend's hips in a needy rhythm.

His once strong, toned body started to soften. The light dusting of chest hairs beginning to fall away, leaving him smooth. Meanwhile, Derek couldn't help but notice that Paul's arms seemed bigger somehow. The mountainous biceps that bulged as Paul held him closer seemed... wrong. But as he felt Paul's ever more prominent bulge against his ass, he simply moaned. Paul's grip tightened around Derek's waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he ground his throbbing erection against his boyfriend's pliant ass. Derek gasped, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure coursing through his veins.

“I'm going to make you mine, baby.” Paul growled, his voice low and rough with desire, “Every inch of you belongs to me now.”

As if in response, Derek's body began to shift further. His broad shoulders narrowed, his powerful muscles atrophying to reveal a leaner, more delicate frame. His hair, once dark and neatly styled, turned a bright platinum blonde and fell in messy waves across his forehead. A sweet, innocent face emerged, dominated by large, expressive blue eyes and full, pouty lips.

With each passing moment, Derek felt himself becoming less like his former self and more like a naive, dim-witted pretty boy. His once sharp intellect dulled, replaced by a vacuous, lustful haze. And yet, emotions like fear, despair, and anger dulled. He gazed up at Paul with wide, trusting eyes, his mouth slack and drooling slightly. 

“Y-you're so big and strong, Paul.” he cooed, reaching back to fondle the massive bulge tenting his boyfriend's pants, “Can you please fuck me? I need it so bad...”

“Not with an ass like that.” Paul grunted, scratching at the hairs that sprouted from his increasingly larger pecs, “And what kinda fuckin' twink has a package like that? Paul groped Derek's proud bulge.

“But babe... please...” Derek pouted, “I.... oh gawd!”

As Paul's touch lingered on Derek's groin, the young man's erection began to shrink, growing smaller and softer until it dwindled to a mere nub between his thighs. At the same time, his once muscular ass flared outward, ballooning into an obscenely large, juicy bubble butt. Paul chuckled cruelly, enjoying the sight of his boyfriend's pathetic, diminished manhood. He reached down and gave Derek's swollen rump a harsh slap, watching with satisfaction as the tender flesh jiggled and quivered.

“You're such a fucking cumslut now, aren't you, babe?” Paul sneered, rubbing his thumb over the red imprint left on Derek's cheek. “Just begging to get your tight little hole filled with my cock.”

Derek whined pitifully, squirming under Paul's scornful gaze. 

“P-please, Paul... I'll do anything... just use me...” He reached back to part his cheeks.

That was all Paul needed. Paul set a relentless pace, pounding into Derek's ass with savage abandon. Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through the young man's core, making him clench and unclench around his boyfriend's invading length. Derek's cries degenerated into incoherent moans and whimpers, his mind consumed by the overwhelming sensations. Any thought of being anything other than a sex toy for his bigger, stronger, boyfriend evaporating from his increasingly duller mind.

“Harder, Paul! Fuck me harder!” Derek begged shamelessly, his voice high and breathy. “Make me your slutty little cumdump!”

As the night wore on, Paul continued to use Derek's willing body for his pleasure, fucking him relentlessly until both men collapsed in exhaustion. Now, as morning dawned outside, Derek lay curled up on Paul's chest, his small frame barely filling the expanse of his boyfriend's broad shoulders.

Despite the lingering soreness between his legs, Derek felt a deep sense of contentment and belonging. In this moment, he knew without a doubt that he was meant to serve and submit to Paul's dominance. Groggily, Derek opened his eyes to find Paul staring down at him with a mix of affection and superiority. Paul gently stroked Derek's hair, his fingertips grazing the delicate features of his boyfriend's face. 

“You did so well last night, baby.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, “Such a good little slut for me.” Derek blushed at the praise, his heart swelling with pride and devotion. 

“Thank you, Paul.” he whispered, nuzzling into his boyfriend's warm embrace, “I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Paul chuckled, leaning down to capture Derek's lips in a dominating kiss. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a golden glow over the room, both Derek and Paul knew something had changed. But neither would be complaining all too much.

[feng-shui71]

WHDJHSHFJFJ another banger I jumped and kicked my feet together when I seen this WAHHHHH❤️❤️❤️

⛓cigarettes out the window⛓RESIDENT EVIL FANFICTION 🕯 OCS AND CANON🕯

this is a one shot cause motivation left me for the bigger fan fic:,) enjoy this silly little fan fiction with silly little characters (and what i have noted down for Nikita/Laika) ﮩـﮩﮩ٨ـ🫀ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ocs included: Nikita '' Laika '' Yokovic = my personal oc Jaiden + Jordan Manalang = @feng-shui71 Jackie Steele = @silna-pdf ﮩـﮩﮩ٨ـ🫀ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

as the smoke gently raised up to the night sky, the source: being Lieutenant Nikita Yokovic leaned against the Raccoon Police Department building.. he was deep in thought as the fumes burned his lungs.. his medications, way of forgetting those.. awful days.. he hasnt heard much from Umbrella, what happened? did it finally fall? why hasnt Spencer nor anyone given him an order or clue?.. why is Birkin even more a bastard then normal..? and Albert.. Albert Wesker.. whats up with him?-

his ears perked up: footsteps.. Nikita's head snapped to look at who or what walked up to him.. '' yikes so sis wasnt wrong on you being jumpy, lieutenant..'' Jaiden Manalang, one of the team alpha soldiers Nikita himself trained, approached Nikita with a chuckle. ''.. what do you need Jaiden..? did Jordan send you to get me?..'' Nikita scoffed... as he continued smoking. '' cant i check up on my own mentor? or are you still brooding like an pissed off bear?..'' Jaiden chuckled as he leaned next to Nikita. '' dont you have paperwork to tend to, Jaid?..'' Nikita turned to actually acknowledge and look at Jaiden. ''.. not that i know off..'' Jaiden chuckled slightly, making sure Nikita didnt catch up on his more nervous tone. ''.. thats it, i wont let you slack off. '' Nikita put his cigarette out (disappointingly) before dragging Jaiden by his arm back into the R.P.D, even if Jaiden is not happy about it.

Jordan looked out her desk window.. the cold beautiful night was a calming sight to those who desire it. she could feel her breathing calm down as she leaned against the glass panel... its been alot, her kids can be tiring, Albert has been acting off and.. distant.. doesnt help this week has been confusing with the cannibal murders that took place the day before.. whats so bad of lighting a blunt, to feel that effect hit her completely.. '' Jord's! '' Jordan was snapped out of her thoughts by Jackie's acknowledgement.. despite the weirdness and honestly disturbing crimes, the S.T.A.R.S were assigned to investigate, Jackie hasnt changed one bit.. Jordan appreciates that, atleast she hasnt been down or.. different. '''.. weren't you suppose to clock out an hour again Jackie?..'' Jordan asked with a chuckle. ''.. well Chief Irons asked if i could wait for the other bravo members.. us lucky bunch have to investigate the butched murders.'' Jackie sighed before chuckling. ''...great, sounds fun... '' Jordan replied sarcastically before her doubts hit her again.. why does she feel so bad about this? why is Nikita so paranoid and frankly concerned about them? why is Albert so distant and keep calling that one freak Birkin? whats going on? ''.. earth to Jordan?.. your having that thinking face again..'' Jackie sat across Jordan with a concerned look. ''.. is Al being all mysterious again? '' '' its not just him.. the L.T has also been acting off, i didnt know the guy could even be more paranoid then normal.. something isnt right..'' Jordan pointed out as she looked down at the ground. ''.. Jords..'' Jackie placed her hand on Jordan's shoulder. ''.. i understand where your coming from.. Brad had made a joke about it too.. but i'm sure those old fucks are just shaken up from the butched murders.. it'll be all okay. '' Jackie gave her an reassuring smile. Jordan sighed. ''.. alrighty Jacks.. lets get this over with..''

Nikita and Jaiden soon returned to the office.. meanwhile Team bravo is preparing to head to the forest. Rebecca Chambers, a young rook that Nikita has been training for the last few months headed to him. '' boss! there are you are.. are you joining us?..'' she asked politely with a smile. Billy stood by her side protectively. Nikita looked at Jaiden firmly. '' you better be done with your paperwork once i'm back. '' he said without any ways for Jaiden to complain before he headed to Rebecca and Jackie. Jordan chuckles, '' i'll make sure of that lieutenant. '' Jaiden looks pissed off but he kept it to himself. Nikita chuckles. '' i know Jords.. be safe you two, i'll be back before it hits midnight..'' little did Nikita know.. everything shall be changed for good.. ──── ୨୧ ──── THE END (i prob got the timeline wrong lol, i wanna make more fanfics once motivation is back lol).

[hazbinwhoree]

Yesss one shot of Adam wink kink and naive demon gf plzzzzz 👀👀👀

Sensitive Wings

A/N: I wrote this high asf so I hope it makes sense.

Warnings: Smut

(Name) thinks that Adam’s wings are the prettiest things ever. She just wants to touch them. So while Adam is telling her about his day, yapping away, she decides to go for it.

She’s so entranced by their feel and softness that she didn’t even notice Adam had stopped talking. She cuddled into his wings, and finally noticed Adam when he made a choked sort of noise. “Adam?”

“Keep touching them, babe, and I’ll fuck you against that wall.”

(Name) hadn’t realized they were sensitive like that. Deviously, she dared to touch his wings again.

In one swift motion, Adam pushed her up against the wall. His frame dwarfs her, so he picks her up and pins her against the wall, claiming her lips with his own. Her legs locked around his waist, and he groped her ass.

They made out for a few minutes before Adam got impatient and pulled away from the wall. He carried (Name) over to the couch, bending her over the arm. He pulled down her pants and panties, and (Name) squirmed. Adam smacked her ass. “Stay still, you little tease.”

She’s so wet that he goes in with three fingers immediately. He pumped them in and out for a minute, occasionally scissoring his fingers, and occasionally pulling out to circle her clit with a slender finger.

Adam’s fingers were long, and (Name) was an absolute mess because of them. She buried her face in the couch to muffle her moans.

Suddenly, Adam pulled out, and (Name) whined in protest. She didn’t protest for long, as Adam pulled her up and pushed her back against the wall. He pinned her against it with his large frame while he unzipped his pants and tugged them and his boxers down just enough to free his dick.

Then he picked (Name) up, and dropped her down on his dick. When he was in he leaned her back against the wall for more support as he began thrusting. (Name)’s legs trembled, locking around Adam’s waist.

Adam connected their lips and as they made out, (Name) had the bright idea to reach forward and brush her hand against Adam’s wings. Adam moaned, and blushed at the noise he had just made. “Fuck, (Name),” Adam panted. “You’re so fucking tight– nngh~”

(Name) brushed her hand down the ends of his wing.

Adam tightened his hold on (Name)’s waist, thrusting up into her at a brutal pace while also pushing her down on his dick with every thrust in. The room was filled with the sound of skin on skin, panting and moaning.

(Name) pet Adam’s wings and his breathing got heavy as he neared his climax. “Fuck, (Name), I’m gonna cum,” Adam groaned. He roughly reconnected their lips, kissing her while he came inside of her.

He stilled for a minute, not pulling out but catching his breath. When he recovered, he smirked at (Name). “Ready to cum, babe?” “You’re still hard?” Adam laughed. “The original dick doesn’t go soft after only one round. I’m the fucking Dickmaster.”

With that declaration he resumed his brutal pace. (Name) gasped as he brushed her most sensitive spot. Usually her g-spot was impossible to find, but Adam had just hit it. And he could tell. He was careful to keep his thrusts steady, and (Name) was reaching her peak quickly. “Adam,” she moaned. “Adam!”

He loved when she moaned his name. “That’s it, babygirl, cum for me.”

The words and steady hits on her g-spot sent (Name) over the edge. She clenched tightly around him and he huffed. She gripped his shoulders like her life depended on it while she climaxed. Adam gently thrusted, fucking her through it.

When she came down, he pulled out. (Name) could feel his cum leaking down her inner thigh. He set her on her feet, and her legs shook before giving out. Adam caught her, lifting her up bridal-style. He laughed at her. She shut up him with a kiss.

“How about a bath?” Adam asked, carrying her towards the bathroom. “Sounds great,” (Name) agreed.

Bathing together would inevitably lead to more sex.

[rinduo]

灰谷 竜胆 / Rindou Haitani

a ring, a night of intoxicated decision, and a morning full of surprises. what truly rings true for you?

wc. 3.6k — rewritten and resposting

RING TRUE

The sky blazed with an orange hue, as though the sun itself was burning in its final moments. From the balcony, you had the perfect view of the city below, the city awakens in a constellation of warm and neon lights, clustered like stars in an urban sky. The fresh air kissed your skin, carrying the distant hum of a city coming to life as night unfolded.

The quiet of the evening was broken by the soft click of the door lock, followed by the familiar chime of the door unlocking. From the balcony, you glanced toward the entrance through the glass window, but when nothing seemed out of the ordinary, your gaze drifted back to the city.

Then—a heavy thud, followed by a sharp clink. Your body tensed. The sound was odd, off. Next came the rustling of fabric, then a faint, uneven crunch—subtle, brittle, but impossible to place. The thuds continued—muted but firm, frequent enough to unsettle you. Maybe it wasn’t just curiosity that made you move, but something creeping closer to unease.

Silently, you stepped toward the kitchen, fingers curling around a glass bottle on the countertop. Just in case.

For a brief moment, you wondered if there was more than one person, but the expected chatter never followed—only the shuffle of unsteady movements. Then, cutting through the silence, a low, drawn-out groan.

Rindou stumbled into view, disheveled. His once neatly styled hair was a mess, strands sticking out as if he had run his fingers through it one too many times. His cardigan carelessly hangs from one shoulder, slipping dangerously as he trudges forward. His steps were slow and unhurried, his weight shifting oddly—like he was struggling to keep himself upright.

“Did you get into a fight—”

His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose, and with sluggish fingers, he barely catches them in time, setting them down carefully on the coffee table. Rindou barely makes it to the sofa before attempting to sit down. But as soon as he does, his perception is off, and he slips off the edge, landing with a heavy thud on the floor. He groans, staring up at the ceiling with a goofy, dazed expression.

You approach his side, having seen enough of his antics. You can’t just stand idly by while he makes a complete mess of himself. At first, it’s hard to tell—his eyes are always half-lidded, carrying the look of someone perpetually sleep-deprived. But tonight, they droop even more, as if he could drift off at any moment.

You try to pull him up by his arms, but he only pouts at you, refusing help. Instead, he goes completely limp, making himself impossibly heavy—like dead weight.

“You dolt!”

Before you can protest further, Rindou takes hold of your wrist and, with surprising strength, pulls you down onto him. Your free hand slams into the floor beside his head to keep yourself from collapsing on top of him.

The scent of alcohol hits your nose—not overpowering, but noticeable. It’s strange. This shouldn’t be happening. Rindou drinks like it’s water, any time of the day, and he always keeps his cool. If anyone can hold their liquor, it’s him. So why does he seem… so drunk?

Rindou giggles, the sound echoing around the apartment as he keeps you on top of him with an arm around your back. His other hand drapes over his eyes, his lips curling into a playful grin.

“Rindou, I can’t stay in this position forever. My arms are starting to kill me.”

Rindou grins—deviously. Without warning, he sits up, the sudden motion sending you stumbling backward. Before you can hit the floor, he pulls you between his legs as he squats, leaving both of you sitting on the floor like idiots—when the sofa was right there.

He lazily loops his arms around your figure, keeping you in place. Nuzzling into your neck, his warm breath fans across your skin, making you shiver. You almost lean away from the tickling sensation, but he tugs you back.

“Y/NNN…" His whine against your shoulder catches you off guard, making you tilt your head to look at him.

“I am desirable, too, aren’t I?” His breath tickles your ear, making you jolt in his arms. You’re on the verge of pushing his head away, but with the way he clings to you, you can’t bring yourself to do it.

“Mm. You are.” The words slip out almost automatically, but even you can hear the half-hearted lilt in your voice.

“You don’t sound sure about it.” He pouts, clicking his tongue dramatically. His arms tighten slightly around your torso, as if holding you just a little closer in a huff.

“How do I even answer that… without you thinking I like you?” Did you just confess your feelings? Well, at least he is drunk.

Rindou blinks, as if processing your words. But he’s drunk, right? The slight squint he makes, the tilt of his head—you assume he’s having trouble understanding you. Slowly, he reaches behind him, fumbling for the pockets of his cardigan. After a moment, he pulls out a small, purple velvet box, grinning as he holds it up for you to see. With a flick of his fingers, he opens it, revealing a dainty ring nestled inside.

“Wow. You got Koko to buy that?”

“No… I bought it, chose it.” His tone shifts slightly—playful, but with a hint of seriousness, as though he’s trying to make sure you understand the weight of the gesture.

“For what?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, just stares at you with a pout that deepens the more you scrutinize his face. Was it just you, or was he judging you for not figuring it out?

A minute passes before he mutters the words you aren’t sure you heard right. “Will you marry me?”

It’s as if all the words have left you. You’re frozen, unsure how to answer. The question hangs heavily in the air. You can’t tell if this is a joke or if there’s some deeper meaning behind it. How do you respond to something so serious, especially when he’s intoxicated? And if this is a prank, how do you explain it to him without making it awkward?

But as the silence stretches on, the tension thickens. Rindou slumps his forehead onto your shoulder, his shoulders sagging with a dejected sigh. You feel him sniffle, pulling you in closer inch by inch, almost as if he’s sulking

You exhale softly, feeling a little apologetic for keeping him waiting, but a small part of you can’t help but indulge in this moment, in the fantasy of it all.

“I’ll be in your care then, Rindou Haitani…” you whisper, barely tilting your head to kiss the crown of his head.

Rindou’s head shoots up immediately. In a flash, he pulls the ring from the box, takes your hand, and gently slides it onto your ring finger.

You can’t help but chuckle, watching him rub his thumb against the back of your hand, his eyes glued to the way the ring glistens in the light.

Somehow, you both end up asleep with your backs against the sofa, Rindou’s cardigan draped over you. Your head rests gently on his upper arm, nestled close to his shoulder. He bends his arm, cradling your head with his hand to keep it from tipping uncomfortably. His touch is soft, the slight pressure on your head grounding you without making you stir. It’s a quiet, tender gesture—a silent promise that he’s there, making sure you’re comfortable.

“I’ll return this to the box… later.” You think, eyeing the small velvet case on the coffee table.

You wake up, rubbing your eyes as the lingering haze of sleep clings to you. Something cool presses against your skin—a faint metallic sensation. Your fingers instinctively brush against it. The ring.

Right.

You jolt, the memory hitting you like a delayed punch. But before the panic fully settles in, another realization crashes over it, completely derailing your train of thought.

This… isn’t where you slept last night. You remember dozing off in the living room. It was dim, sure, but not this dim. If anything, the only rooms in this house that are this dark are the Haitani brothers’ bedrooms—both void of light, as if they’re allergic to it.

Which means…. Rindou must have carried you to his room while you were out cold. You push yourself upright, your mind scrambling to piece everything together. As your hand reaches for the blinds—another realization slams into you.

It’s morning.

The bright sunlight hits you like a punch to the face, temporarily blinding you. You squint, blinking rapidly as your vision adjusts. And then it clicks.

Not only Rindou isn’t in the room.

Then that means he’s already awake.

Is it too late to put the ring back in the box?

Your eyes dart around the room, panic rising, but before you can even begin to think of a plan—your gaze lands on something far worse.

A damp spot.

On the pillow.

…You drooled in your sleep.

And on Rindou’s pillow no less.

You scramble out of bed, hastily smoothing out the comforter and fluffing the rest of the pillows like it’ll somehow erase the shame. Then, as discreetly as possible, you rip that one pillowcase off, planning to throw it in the laundry before anyone notices.

Okay. Crisis one, handled.

Now onto the real problem.

You take a breath, steeling yourself. Find the box. Put the ring back. Salvage the plan.

…But where is the box?

With a quiet sigh, you begin your search. Your eyes scan the corners of the room, checking every possible spot. His closet? Empty. Under the bed? Nothing. It’s not on the nightstand either.You moved on to his drawers, pulling them open one by one, running your fingers along the edges, hoping to feel the familiar shape of the small purple velvet box.

You move on to the DVD and CD shelves next, running your fingers along the spines of the cases, hoping to find something misplaced. Nothing. Frustration builds in your chest as you pull open another drawer, then another, your hands brushing over items that have absolutely nothing to do with the task at hand.

Stepping back, you rub your temples, exhaling sharply. Why is it so hard to find one little box in this place?

Peeking outside Rindou’s door, you cautiously scan the living room. There he is, up and about, his back to you as he focuses on lifting weights. His muscles ripple with each controlled movement, his headphones blocking out everything else as he pushes through his set. Oblivious to your quiet search. Good, you think, a small spark of hope igniting. You can still make this work.

You silently creep into the living room, every step calculated and light as air. The familiar scent of his cologne lingers in the air, and the soft clink of weights fills the room. You move with purpose, eyes darting around, trying to find any sign of the box. His headphones are your advantage right now. As long as he doesn’t hear you, you have time to search.

The DJ booth is your first target. You lean over it, peeking behind, scanning the countertop and beneath it. Nothing. A small sigh escapes your lips, but you quickly swallow it, glancing cautiously toward the TV. It’s too close to where Rindou is working out, so you can only observe it from a distance. Getting any closer would risk making a sound that might catch his attention. No, you need to be careful.

You slide your hand across the gaps below the couch, praying the box might’ve slipped between the cushions. No luck. Kneeling, you gently lift the coffee table’s edge, peeking underneath. Again, nothing. Frustration bubbles up inside you, but you push it down, focusing on the task at hand.

Your eyes dart over to plastic goods. There’s a glimmer of hope, and you can’t resist. You reach inside, rifling through the plastic and boxes, searching for any sign of the velvet box. The seconds tick by, each one dragging, and yet, still no box. Where did he put it?

You bite your lip, frustration bubbling up inside you. You try to steady your breath, refusing to let the growing panic seep through. The last thing you want is for him to see how worried you are—especially when everything is such a mess right now.

The soft clink of weights signals that he’s wrapping up his set. You freeze, eyes darting nervously to his back. His muscles are tense, his body focused, but all you can think about is how quiet it’s become despite the music blasting in his ears—and leaking out of the headphones.

You give up, sucking in a breath. That’s when you walk right up to him and tug at his shirt. A sudden shift, and his head snaps toward you. His eyes narrow, half-questioning, half-smirking.

“Find something interesting, Y/N?” he teases, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

You bite your lip, trying to steady yourself as you fiddle with the ring in your hands. With a hesitant breath, you finally show it to him, your palms open. “This ring is yours, right? You were bragging about it last night…” You can’t help the awkwardness creeping into your voice. “It sorta… fell from its box.”

“I did? Did it? His brow arches, the smirk on his lips only growing wider as he watches your nerves unravel.

“No… It’s yours… Last night… You..” You try to make up an excuse, but to no avail, your mind is going blank as he further stares at you.

“But, how could that be mine? With that small ring, isn’t that more of yours?”

You freeze, the words catching in your throat. His teasing tone makes your mind scramble for a way out of this mess. “No… It’s yours…” You say weakly, but your voice falters. “Last night… You…”

Your mind goes completely blank, every coherent thought slipping away as his gaze locks onto you, the playful amusement in his eyes making your heart race. You try to come up with something—anything—to make sense of this, but to no avail.

Rindou only watches you an infuriatingly calm smirk, waiting for your next words.

“Well, did I make you wear it? So… wear it.” Rindou shrugs nonchalantly, his voice light, almost taunting. But the suggestion hangs in the air, and you can feel the heat rise in your face, cheeks burning at the implication.

Your eyes widen in disbelief at his words, and you shake your head vehemently, as if the very thought of it could somehow reverse the situation. As much as you want to explain the significance of the ring, you’re not about to be the one to spill the beans. The last thing you need is for him to catch on and make this even more awkward than it already is.

“What should I even do with this ring? No one here has the same size as your finger. Should I just throw it away?” His voice lingers in the air, carrying a hint of mockery and, maybe, a little bit of a threat as he starts walking toward the trash can.

Before your brain can even process, you’re already dashing toward him, grabbing his arm with a mix of panic and urgency. “W-Wait… that’s too wasteful!” The words tumble out before you even think about them.

“Then wear it.”

Your mind races, and the words tumble out of your mouth, half in disbelief, half in frustration. “I can’t.”

Rindou’s gaze softens just slightly, his usual smirk fading into something that almost resembles concern. “Just wear it,” he repeats, his tone light but with an undercurrent of seriousness that makes it sound less like a joke and more like a quiet demand. “There’s nothing wrong with it, right? It’s not cursed or anything.”

You inwardly groan, your mind screaming, It kind of is. His proposal might be completely casual, but the weight of the situation is anything but light. The ring… it’s tied to something much bigger than he realizes, and Rindou is still blissfully unaware.

“Don’t you remember what the ring is for? For whom it’s meant?” You try to hint, your heart pounding as you push the words out, but Rindou doesn’t catch on. His response is quick, too quick, as if he hadn’t even thought about it before.

“No,” he answers, and his pout deepens as he looks down at you with a mix of confusion and amusement. “Just wear it.”

You huff in frustration, flipping through your thoughts. There’s no way out of this. With a reluctant sigh, you pull the ring from his hand and, without much thought, start to slide it onto your ring finger—the finger where he placed it last night.

But as you do, something about it feels… off. You pause, second-guessing yourself. Does it have to be on the ring finger? You’ve always heard that rings placed there carry certain connotations—romantic, serious, a commitment of sorts. You remember how Rindou, in his intoxicated state, had carefully slid it onto your ring finger last night. At the time, you’d figured it was just a drunken mix-up, but now that you’re the one doing it, a strange sense of unease washes over you. Why did he choose that finger? It’s a small thing, but for some reason, it feels… significant. You quickly transfer it to your index finger, hoping to shake off the discomfort.

Before you can even settle it there, Rindou grabs your wrist. The sudden action throws you off, your instinct shifting to fight or flight mode. You jerk your hand away, but his grip tightens, tugging you toward him. Panic surges as you struggle to break free, trying to pull your hand back, but Rindou’s grip only tightens. It’s clear he’s not letting you go.

It’s a strange, silent wrestling match—one where neither of you is willing to give an inch. You fight against his hold, but with every tug, you end up closer to him.

It’s not just close anymore—he spins you around, your back slamming flush against his chest. You squirm and try to wriggle free, but he pins you between the glass pane of his floor-to-ceiling window and him. You immediately freeze, breath hitching as his arms tighten around you.

“Rindou, you reek of sweat! You’re making me wet with your sweat!” You exclaim, trying to break free from his hold one more time.

“Bear with it for a second,” he whispers too closely, his breath warm against your ear. His tone is serious, but also soft. He’s trying to keep your hand steady while you keep moving it away from him. Surprisingly, you still have the energy to fight back, even though he has you pinned.

You can barely fight back, overwhelmed with the proximity, the quickened beat of his heart against your spine, and the warmth of his body pressing against yours—save the cold from his sweat. His scent makes you limp, and it’s unfair.

Finally, with a calm precision, he slides the ring back onto your ring finger. His fingers intertwine with yours, the weight of the ring settling perfectly in place.

“It looks better that way.”

You think you are being subtle.

You move carefully, rifling through plastic bags, fingers ghosting over surfaces like you’re not sure where to look but hoping you’ll find it anyway. What are you looking for anyway that you had to tiptoe around him? But he saw everything. Through the reflection in the glass, he caught the way your eyes dart, the hesitation in your step.

He did not expect you’d come up to him with the ring in hand.

‘’Oh?’’

He kind of get the gist of it. It’s a bit amusing to watch the way you questioned that ring—even lying by any means.

He wasn’t that drunk. Tipsy, sure. Loose-limbed and maybe a little too honest. But not enough to forget the way he’d slid that ring onto your finger. He’d wanted you to notice. To understand. To make you think. He’d wanted it to be clear—just in case you weren’t picking up on the hints.

But you hadn't. Not really. You brushed it off as some drunken accident, a slip of the hand. And that? That was almost insulting.

He had meant every second of it. He put the ring on your fourth finger on purpose. Not because he was drunk, not because he slipped—but because he wanted to see. Because for all the times you’ve tested him, teasing, toeing the line but never daring to cross—this time it’s his turn to make you sweat it out.

And now, you’re backpedaling. You don’t really play fair.

The silent denial, the shifting of the ring, the way you refuses to meet his gaze—it’s almost too good. But he’s patient. He lasted this long, hasn’t he?

So, fine. He’ll wait a little longer.

He doesn’t mind throwing more bait, watching you squirm, upping the stakes with ridiculous attempts just to see how far you’ll run before you hit a wall; how you’ll keep dodging. Two can play the game.

You can’t have it both ways forever.

You’ve been so cautious, always dancing around the edge— careful not to fall, while he’s already taken the plunge. But he’s not above reaching out—grabbing your wrist—pulling you under with him.

So, what’s it going to be? Will you keep fighting? Or are you finally going to sink? You really have the knack for making him impatient. But nothing tastes sweeter other than finally having you in his arms, possibly with a veil over your head.

please do not copy, repost, modify, translate, screenshot or share my works by any means on other platforms. thank you!

[lxvvie]

Freely Using Gaz:

Gaz and the way he shivers when you plaster yourself against his back in bed. Your arm goes around his waist, your hand trails down into his boxers, and oh, darling. What a wonderful way to start the day off.

Gaz and the hitch in his breath when you started playing with his cock. He was on the phone with the Cap'n being his usual sassy self, and then you came in. You came in and started running your fingers over it teasingly, and he was doing good keeping it in. Emphasis on was because when you bent down and went to town sucking his dick, Kyle let out a stunted "Christ—". Good thing he was able to save face with Price for that one.

Gaz and the groan he lets out when he buries his face in your chest. You were bored out of your mind, and what better way to keep yourself entertained than by cockwarming him while working. Jesus fuckin'— "You're killing me here, darling," Kyle mumbles against your skin, arms wrapped tightly around your midsection. Wound up tight, just like he is. "You move when I say you move, Garrick." You never said it.

Gaz and the mixture of anticipation and trepidation he feels when he sees you've texted him. It's not that he doesn't like you texting him, far from it, but it's all he can do to keep from groaning out loud every time you send a risqué picture or message. The less he says about how hard he gets, the better. Fuck, he remembers the last time you did it, and the face he made was enough to warrant Soap's concern. You're such a tease, darling.

Gaz and the way his eyes slightly widen when you rest your hand on the small of his back. In public. Because he knows what you're up to. Because he knows that you know that's one of his spots. He shoots you a look, you shoot him a devious grin back, and as soon as you're both in the clear, you slide your hand down and give that ass of his a nice squeeze. What is he gonna do with you?

Gaz and the frustrated, heady chortle he lets out because you won't let him cum even though he's fucked you through two orgasms at this point. What the fuck, gorgeous? "Jus' one more," you moan, the aftershocks of your latest one leaving you trembling, pulsing around his cock, and you're so damn beautiful and feel so fucking good that Gaz can't help but want to fuck more orgasms out of you.

Gaz and the way he sighs when you kiss the side of his mouth oh-so-softly. You finally—fucking finally—let him cum, body buzzing with contentment, pleasure, and above all, adoration. "Think you missed the mark there, love," he jokes, but it's intentional. You grin deviously again, reach down, and grab his sensitive cock. You began to stroke, and before Gaz can do anything else, you make damn sure to feel his gasp against your lips. You didn't miss the mark. Not even fucking close.

[starboye]

pairing: dylan minnettee x male reader

request: could you write about dylan minette x reader fucking in the shower ILY

warnings: smut, shower sex, cursing, pet names, slight daddy kink

you hadnt expected dylan to be home for at least another few hours so you decided to take a relaxing shower after cleaning the house up a little for dylans return, he had been on tour for a couple weeks and today was the day he was supposed to come home but he came home a little earlier to surprise you.

dylan opened the door and threw his bags to the side waiting for you to greet him but you didnt, he walked through the fairly spacious house to find you, as he walked into you guys room he heard the shower running and smirked, he stripped off his clothes and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

"dylan is that you" you ask wiping the water from your face but dylan doesn't answer he only steps into the shower, leaning his chest against your back "hi baby" dylan whisper hugging you from behind "hey, how was the tour" you ask "miserable without you" dylan chuckles lightly.

"aww well you're here now" you reassure kissing dylans cheek "and now that im here i can finally have you" dylan mutters kissing down your neck "you couldn't wait till i got out the shower" you say choking back a moan "no" dylan says muffled by your neck, running his hand down to your ass to grope it.

"you want it" dylan question loving your sweet small whimpers "yes please" you plea rubbing your ass against dylans growing dick, dylan quickly flips you around and begins making out with you, you moaning it his mouth as the water falls onto your back making it hotter than it already was between you too.

"i missed you so much" dylan says "oh really" you smile pulling back from the kiss to catch a breath "for real, do you know how hard it is to jerk off to just a picture of your ass" dylan jokes but he was being honest, he sat in the dressing room of his concert for an hour trying to cum to a picture of your ass covered in his cum but he couldnt.

"then how about you cum to the real thing" you say jerking dylans cock lightly, feeling it grow even more in your hand "well how could i deny such a request" dylan deviously smirks, you see the lust growing in his eyes before he presses you onto the bathroom wall, face flat against the wet wall "already loose for me" dylan scoffs seeing your open hole.

"only for you daddy" you reply cockily, dylan almost goes feral when you say that but holds back and slaps his dick against your slick hole and without warning he thrusts into your warms walls with a groan "dylannn" you moan out as he does so "yeah baby all me" dylan says wrapping his hand around your neck while his other hand wraps around your dick, stroking it slowly.

"ngh please faster" you choke out "want daddy to go faster" dylan asks and you nod slowly, he goes faster and faster till the only sounds are groans and moans falling from your mouth masked by the shower and plaps, "im gonna..." you trail off not being able to finish your sentence but dylan understood exactly what you were saying and quickened his pace in your ass and around your dick.

you came all over dylans hand as you dropped you head onto the wall with broken moans "so good" dylan mummers licking the cum from his hand before wrapping one hand around your waist to steady you as he pounded you out, lifting your head back up by the neck with his other hand.

"right there" you whine feeling another wave of ecstasy wash over you and dylan feels it too before he cums in you, painting your walls white with his seed as he lets out deep huffs "you always know how to tire me out" dylan says "right back at you" you reply.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m

[loves1ckmoth]

LOYAL SERVANT

Cassandra Kiramman x Servant!Reader

Warnings ♡: fem!reader, they kiss, probably ooc, reader helps her change and puts makeup on her, reader refers to her as mistress, petnames used by Cassandra (darling, my girl, doll, dearest), implied relationship/intimacy

Word count ♡: 643

“Darling, would you mind getting my dress for the night?” Cassandra’s voice is soft as she speaks to you. “Yes, Mistress.” You say softly in response. Her dress for tonight is a gorgeous blue, displaying her family colors. She stands in front of the mirror, pulling at and inspecting her skin.

Once you’re behind her smiles and turns to face you. “Perfect. Help me put it on, will you?” She says as she begins to remove her clothes. You look away, feeling a flush creep up your neck. No matter how many times you help her with her clothes, it’s still embarrassing to see her like this.

You help slip her dress over her head, gently pulling it down her body until it sits properly on her. “It’s not as snug as I’d like it to be, but it fits fine, " she says, smoothing it out as you zip up the back.

She goes to sit over at her vanity once everything is in place on her dress, and like an obedient puppy, you follow her over. The light from the open curtains and evening sun allows enough lighting without having to use the built-in ones on her vanity.

“I think tonight we’ll just do a little blue on the lids and some rouge on the lips and cheeks.” She says softly as you pull out the brushes. She turns in her chair to face you as you apply her makeup. It’s intimate, and her teasing stares don’t help. “You’re flushed, my girl. Embarrassed after all this time? After everything we’ve done together? Don’t be.”

Your blush gets even worse and she smiles deviously. “Poor girl… Would a kiss make you feel better?” She goads you, leaning forward into you. Her lips are soft from her lipstick as they brush against yours, and even softer when she presses them into yours. They beckon you closer and the whimper that builds up in your throat is hard to conceal.

When she pulls away, she smiles even wider. “Come on, you’ve still got work to do.” You try to refocus and help her finish her makeup, but it’s still hard to not linger on her featherlight touches and sly smirks. “Your makeup is done, mistress.”

She hums smoothly and turns to look at herself. “Perfect. You’ve outdone yourself this time. Surprising especially with how distracted you were.” You nod and help her stand. “You still need some jewelry.” You murmur while digging through the drawers of her vanity to find something suiting for her attire. You gingerly pull out a pearl necklace and chandelier earrings. She nods in approval and raises her head to make it easier to put the jewelry on her.

“Doll, you’ve outdone yourself this time.” She says as she gazes in the mirror and pulls on her heels. “You’ll keep the house safe while I’m away, won’t you?” You nod. You remember all the rules. Don’t answer the door for anyone but her, continue your daily tasks until she comes home, and stay out of the bedrooms for privacy purposes.

As she's heading out the door, the small hole in your uniform catches on the door handle and she frowns. “Your uniform is so old and tattered. We must get you a new one.” She looks you over and takes the material in her own hands.

“Such a horrible texture as well. Can’t be easy to work when you’re so itchy and uncomfortable. I’ll have a new one made for you by tomorrow, dearest. Until then, keep watch of the house. I’ll be back before midnight. Be good.” She kisses you goodbye and shuts the front doors. Your hands lie against your front, and a strange feeling of sadness fills you as the silence of the empty house continually imposes upon you. But you trust she’ll be home when she promised.

Hi, everyone!! Thank you so much for all the attention on my last one!! I woke up to over 30 notes on it after posting it before bed and was shocked. My jaw DROPPED when I came back in the afternoon to find it at over 60!! This type of interaction really keeps me going and gives me the motivation I need. Thank you all ♡♡ Reblogs and likes are the most appreciated ♡

[msfantasy]

Sometimes Even Losers Win

Golbin x Reader

Summary: Visiting your best friend, Cherry, who recently moved to a small monster town. Together you visit the local tavern where you meet the flirtiest Goblin.

A/n: I literally researched flirty one liners… unfortunately I do not have rizz irl to come up with this.

“—You’re gonna love this local Tavern darlin!” Cherry says with her strong southern drawl. You can’t help but smile back at your giddy best friend who almost can’t help but buzz with energy as you approach the establishment. “Gosh— I really hope he’s here tonight!” Cherry says, pulling out a hand mirror, patting down her blonde hair fly-aways and whipping away the red lipstick that bled ever so slightly over her lip line.

“Someone new caught your eye Cherry?” You tease, bumping your shoulder into hers, she bashfully looks up to you with her thick set of lashes. “Well… yes… and—“

“Here we go.” You mumble, rolling your eyes before Cherry even has a chance to ask you for a favour.

“Don’t go rolling your eyes before-“ Cherry clicks her tongue in annoyance. “Fine! I have a little ulterior motive bringing you here…” You huff a breath through your nostrils, slightly annoyed you were invited and traveled all this way just to play wingwoman— just like you did for Cherry back in the city.

“Hurry up and tell me what it is you want.”

“So there’s this big Orc I’ve had my eye on for some time — you know how I feel about big monsters like orcs with their huge arms and their huge—“

“Cherry!”

“Right! Alright!” Cherry composes herself again. “Well, I’m havin a hard time getting acquainted because of this pesky little goblin buzzin’ around us— every time I get close, Ska comes pushing himself between us!” Cherry huffs, angry red splotches colouring her cheeks. “Well— I was hoping with your womanly wiles, I could finally get some alone time?” Cherry’s voice goes high at the end, trying to soften the request with her honey soaked vocals.

“Fine.” You agree, Cherry claps her hands with excitement at you submission, her hand reaching out for the door to swing open.

Your hit with the wafting air of home made food mixed with sticky ale.

Stepping through the door Cherry follows in right behind you.

“Hi Miss Cherry!” A wolf hybrid says excitedly, your friend wiggling her fingers back in greeting.

“Good evening Cherry.” A vampire nods towards your friend who smiles deviously back.

“Hello Cherry.” A succubus greets with a flirty wink.

You begin to side eye your best friend.

“So… you’ve been busy I see.” You smirk at Cherry’s attempt to feign ignorance. But she was quickly distracted by a huge orc sitting along with a… surprisingly handsome goblin.

“Oh— Oran! Fancy seeing you here!” She says, racing over the the two monsters sharing a booth. “Mind if we join?” She asks, not waiting for a reply as she seats herself next to the big orc.

You feel a little embarrassed approaching the table as the Orc seemed less than impressed with Cherry’s sudden appearance.

You feel a little more embarrassed to be under the intense gaze from the goblin as you take a seat next to him.

“What’s a fine thing like you doin’ in a place that lets me in?” You return him a bashful smile at his compliments. Suddenly, his cocky smile, and his laid back-posture goes ridged. “You… uh, you’re smilin’ at me? Like—At me? That’s new. I like it.” He says, making your lips tug into a picture perfect smile. A giggle eliciting from your lips — eying the flirty goblin “You keep makin’ that face at me and I’m gonna start thinkin’ you like me or somethin’.”

“So what if I do?” You say back, biting your bottom lip, resisting the urge to giggle at Ska with that face he’s making.

“Okay, okay—jokes aside. If you’re playin’ with me, just… go easy, alright? My ego’s big but my heart’s not that tough.” His cocky facade faltering at your flirtation.

“My names, Y/n.” You say, holding out your hand in greeting. “I’m visiting my friend Cherry.” Your eyes lock onto Ska, his hand absentmindedly clutches at his chest, whilst the other makes its way to grasp your hand for a shake and right as he does, you lean in and kiss his cheek in greeting.

You don’t miss the sudden gasp escaping him as he accidentally takes in a deep breath of your alluring perfume.

“Uh- right… my names Ska, I’m a friend of Oran who your best friends obsessed with.” Ska blurts out making you laugh instantly.

“Ska!”Cherry reprimands, swinging her leg out under the table and kicking the goblin.

“Ouch! What?!” Ska shouts, looking over at Cherry who’s staring daggers- silently reprimanding him with her pinched brows. “I’m sorry! I’m used to swingin’ and missin’. But she seems to actually like it… and I’m not sure what to do with that other than say stupid stuff!”

Cherry heaves a huff, fishing around her hand bag, and flinging a note into your direction. “Here — Grab around for the table would ya darlin’ and go help her carry it back” Cherry says to Ska through thinned lips.

You slide out of the booth, walking towards the bar, making sure to swing your hips with a little more effort, feeling heavy eyes burning into your back. Surely enough, you look over your shoulder and see Ska eyeing you up and down, as if unsure where he’d rather look.

As soon as you reach the bar you make an order. “Four cups of spirits please.” You say, handing over the note to the hybrid on the other side of the bar. Right as Ska takes a seat on the stool next to you.

You look at Ska from the corner of your eye, enjoying how painfully obvious, Skas making his infatuation with you look. “Careful, love. Keep lookin’ at me like that and I might start thinkin’ I’m worth somethin’.” Ska flirts, and suddenly you’re feeling terrible for agreeing to this.

“Ska, I have something to admit.” You say, your flirty smile now gone, replaced with a serious look.

“Oh here we go—“ Ska begins, “Cherry asked you to flirt with me a bit so I wouldn’t get between her useless advances towards Oran right?” You blink, mouth slightly agape, at Skas accurate assumption.

“Yes — but!” You quickly interject. “You… well… you’re pretty… handsome… “ You say, eyes averting elsewhere. “and… I like how you…talk and…” Your cheeks begin to warm up, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed.

“Wow— you know, for such a beautiful woman, you’re surprisingly horrible at flirting.” Ska interjects with another playful smile. “Then again, you pretty ladies never had to put in much effort. Just batt your gorgeous eyes at us men and you’ll have us falling to our knees.” He says, leaning his cheek dreamily into his palm which rests on the bar top.

You mimic his posture. “Maybe… but i definitely put in more effort else where…” you say suggestively with a wink, just quite enough for his ears alone. “Want a demonstration?” Ska gulps at your airy words, his head tilting up to yours as you begin to lean down.

“Madam, your drinks.” The hybrid says monotonously shoving the cups in your direction and walking to the other end of the bar.

“Suppose we should take these to Oran and Cherry …” you say flatly. But Ska grabs your hand.

“Or we can sneak up to my room and I can demonstrate to you my efforts.”

[stxrgazingattheclouds]

Magikey (TWST AU) by @quartztwst 💫 💗

GUYS IM BACK IN THE TWST BUILDING…IM BACK GGAH

I had the time of my life coloring this for some reason the only time I have fun doing digital art is when I’m drawing my yuusona cuz this goes HARD !!

⭐️

Quartz when you drop the Leona design I expect to see them kissing please and thank you if not I’ll do it myself rubs hands together deviously..

[crucifiedramblings]

headcanons — satoru gojo

warnings: adult content. sexual themes. bullet point format. sadist ("hard dom") gojo. impact play. marking/bruising. slapping. spit. aftercare. mild humor/fluff.

author's note: this one is like... pushing the limits of what i post here. minors do not interact, nsfw under the cut!

satoru gojo is already enough to deal with— but sadist hard dom gojo? impossible.

and satoru knows that his dick is big enough to act that impossible

satoru, who will tell you to open your mouth only to spit on your tongue and giggle at your dumbfounded expression

satoru, who is obsessed with leaving bruises behind whenever he has a night alone with you

and furthermore satoru, who likes the sex more if you hate him a little bit while you're doing it

satoru, who goes the extra mile to piss you off, only to be fucking you so hard that you're nearly passing out later that night

as if that weren't enough, satoru would give you a slap to the face— just to keep you awake— only to flash you a cocky smile and keep pounding into you

"wake up, baby— i wasn't that rough, was i?" gojo grins deviously, pale cock thrusting up into you at a painful pace.

and of course, satoru gives the most deliciously lovely and tender aftercare known to mankind because he's a sadist not a monster

satoru would prepare you the world's most stereotypical bubble bath— he learned his moves from japanese romcoms, i don't make the rules

satoru would admire the night's injuries, tending delicately to your bruises and scratches with more care than you thought he had been capable to take

it almost made you forget that satoru had been the one to put them there

for: @thotthumb

[rosesradio]

Leo explaining porn categories to Jason and Nico they get confused about what Leo’s saying so Leo makes them take the infamous bdsm test

oh my god the test 🫣 why were we all taking that at like 14, right along with the rice purity lmaoo

but yeah thinking about this definitely happening at a sleepover in the hades cabin, the three of them lost in the haze of nico’s candles, alcohol and weed.

(hc that the stolls have a secret garden with the help of the demeter cabin—it’s in the corner of their roof that no one goes to explore, and they split profits. unrelated, they also grow potatoes.)

anyways, they’re all giggly and open as leo steers the conversation and ends up showing them porn (because, as said, they’re really repressed). nico’s surprised it even exists, and while he’s embarrassed at first he can’t stop staring at it. leo went over to the gay category and picked something out at random—this being a pretty twink in a skirt being railed in a dimly lit dorm room. his wrists were tied to the headboard, so all he could do was roll his hips up and whine with every thrust. it looked so good…nico couldn't help but swallow. he’d be in either one of those positions in a heartbeat.

jason can’t help but fixate on the words being said. “so good—so fuckin’ pretty, bouncin’ on my cock”—it was vulgar, but gods, it sounded so nice—the pretty words, how breathless the top sounded. jason wanted to make someone that breathless, wanted to earn praise as easily as breathing.

leo gives them a tour of the porn site on his laptop, showing them all the different categories—twinks, groups, muscles, to name a few. and leo explains that those are just the tip of the iceberg. there’s also another layer—and he teases nico about how he liked watching that one tied up twink. he does a search, and hundreds of similar videos pop up. nico practically whimpers. (and perhaps bites back that it’s sad that leo seems to have such extensive experience watching porn on his own, as if nico wouldn’t do the same).

jason is still confused, a tad overwhelmed, flustered, and (although batman couldn’t beat the confession out of him) half-hard, itching to touch himself through his boxers even a little. he asks leo how he’s supposed to know what he likes and what he doesn’t. leo grins deviously and offers to let him practice with him, though he soon moves on from the fleeting joke and pulls up the bdsm test.

jason and nico go through what could only be described as shrimp emotions as they fill out their respective tests, out of view of the others. nico’s breath hitches at one of the questions, his face flushing as he squeezes his thighs together. jason’s brows furrow at one question, his eyes widening at the next.

when they’re done, they reluctantly pass their tests to leo, who shamelessly downloads a copy of each of their answers “to get a better look at them”. he looks up at them, brows raised as he frowns.

leo comments that the two are surprisingly vanilla, though a few things jump out at him. nico’s what they call a “rope bunny”, meaning he wants to be tied up. jason imagines the sight of nico in thigh highs and a skirt (maybe they have been watching too much porn), being edged by a vibrator as he writhes against dark ropes. he would beg so pretty like that, his voice weak and broken.

jason is apparently all about praise, with a choking kink on the side. he confesses with much embarrassment his skepticism of it all—he imagined he would like to be choked, though how was he supposed to know until it was actually happening? how was nico supposed to know he would like being tied up until it was actually happening?

that’s when leo leans in close to jason, breath warm and smelling like strawberry liquor. he repeats the joke from earlier, the one about practicing, his nimble fingers toying along jason’s collarbone. jason swallows, wanting nothing more than for leo to kiss him—and wrap his hand around his neck.

leo doesn’t seem to be joking this time, though. he adds that they could tie nico up, have him watch for the longest time before finally giving him what he needed. jason ponders the notion—what nico needed, what they all could possibly do to each other. nico could ride him, his wrists tied to the headboard. leo could fuck him while nico watched, drawing jason closer to the edge with each “good boy” and “so pretty, isn’t he, nico?”

gods. jason swallows.

when faced with a proposition, jason never backed down. when he could learn something, he leapt forward. and when something he desired was right in front of him, he was so used to being told no—what if he could have what he wanted for once? what if leo, who so carefully collected a list of what exactly could make jason and nico weak, could give him exactly what he wanted?

he nods.

leo grins surprisingly sweetly, though theres a spark in his eyes that suggests nothing but trouble for the pair of them.

[valentine-cafe]

pleeeeAAAAAASE more bottom boy x top fem reader!!! I love your work

˖⁺. “ ecstacy ” : 

﹙ multi top monster gfs x bttm boyfriend ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . multi monster fems x bttm male reader !! 🍓 : 

some headcanons of your monster girlfriend topping you <3

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ penetrative sex ˖ some degradation ˖ oral | wc : 0.4k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: anything for you pookie <3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

﹙ nadia 9948e. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 :

"Nasty boy," her chuckle echos in your ears. While sharp, talons wrap around your sore jaw and rustle it around a bit.

You whine at the sinmple swipe of her thumb against your chin, collecting the saliva and drool that stream out past your lips and mix with the salty tears of pleasure the she indulges in so heavily.

"M—M Maah, Nad-i-a—"

The feeling of your sore dick throbbing inside of her clenching walls, splurting out load after load makes her eyes loop around in satisfaction. A hand moves down to pin you to the bed below.

Wings wrap around you, and the pace becomes undeniably fast, so much your poor fucked out brain can't follow with anymore.

"Aren't you precious?" She drawls, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth before so deviously slamming her wet, warm cunt back down on you as she ravages you over and over again.

You make the pointless attempt at whining out, but all you can affort is a little weak noise that goes straight to her core. "Oh keep those noises up giocattolo piagnucoloso ( whiny toy ). You may just recieve an award."

꒰  harpy ˖ villian character ꒱

 

﹙ mèng yáo 9948e. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 :

You were one of her male servants at the yuè sanctuary. Faithful to the ways and paths of the nocturnal grim reapers, and you stuck to your culture with pride and showed your lady the most respect you had to offer.

Which extended all of the way to heated sessions in her lavish bedchambers.

There you are, snug between her plush thighs. Her wet cunt rubbing and grinding down against your desperate tongue, that spills with little whines for more. Yet recieving no more than subtle glances and little chuckles.

"Quiet down, xin." She whispers, tugging roughly at your hair. Slick folds cutting the contact your lips had with them off fully. "You whine and whine so much, I'm getting tired of it."

"J-Jiejie—" You choke out, hiccuping while looking up at her. Yet your gaze does not remain on her for long, as her hand meets the base of your dick and squeezes at it hard. Only to give your tip a slap right after.

Teary eyes remain on the ceiling.

"Do pretty servants like you demand of their lady? Or do they stay obedient, hm?" She huffs, snaking a hand behind your head to tilt your head upwards and reconnect your lips with her cunt.

"Eat."

How oculd you ever complain? Your lady tastes like the most nocturnal divinity you've ever come close to tasting of all it's wines and foods.

꒰  grim reaper ˖ priestess character ꒱

﹙ taglist. ﹚: | get tagged for specific posts

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[toxicanonymity]

any way we could get more speakeasy!joel where reader is giving him a bj under the bar ? i miss him so much 💔

hell yeah, I love ultra horny Joel 🥵❤️‍🔥

under the table

850 / horny!Joel x f!reader

Warnings: I8+ mdni Oral (m) receiving, exhibitionism, non-degrading horny talk. Standalone drabble but can pick up from speakeasy teddy. The song ball and biscuit by the white stripes has speakeasy vibes to me.

A blues song is playing in the Speakeasy while the boys celebrate their return home from a long smuggling trip.  Joel is always insatiable when he gets back.  You're straddling him in a booth. You press your palm into the warm, firm bulge in his jeans and he thrusts into your hand as you slowly massage him.  “Sexy as hell,”  he growls behind your ear and gently bites your neck.  “Wanna fuck ya right here,” he whispers gruffly and all your blood goes to your loins.  He grabs your ass cheeks and yanks you closer again, preferring to pleasure himself with your body.  Your skirt is history - pulled up all the way over your ass.

He pulls down the strap of your lace teddy – the one he had you wear out in public.  He takes your breast out, feeling it gently, then harder, knitting his brows.  His other arm is around your back, bracing you as he rhythmically thrusts into the damp lace of your crotch. Joel's hardness between your legs makes you weak all over, and you’re getting the front of his jeans wet. He doesn’t mind at all. He feeds your nipple to his mouth and  hums “Mmm” into it, making you sigh.  Tommy looks back toward your booth and blood rises to your face. 

“Joel,” you whisper and he looks  up at you with his mouth still on your tit.  

“What?” 

You glance behind him and nod toward the boys. Tommy has looked away. Joel covers your nipple with his mouth and his eyes sparkle deviously. He does what he wants, where he wants, when he wants.  He’ll stop if you really want him to, but nah.  Not when you’re this turned on. You reach between you and unbutton his jeans.  “Go for it, baby,” he says.  You unzip him and take his hard cock out of his boxers.  It makes you salivate at first sight.  When he got home that afternoon, you were too busy fucking to admire it.  Your fingers face downward and you rub it a few times, then he yanks you closer again, putting your damp, needy crotch up against his hardness. You sigh then reach one of your feet back onto the floor under the table.  He raises an eyebrow knowingly. 

Joel’s horny eyes watch you the whole way down his body as you slowly make your way under the table and get on your pretty little knees.  He spreads his thighs wide for your access and gets close to the edge of the seat, slouching in the booth. You take his cock in both hands then hover over it.  You watch his denim shirt, turned on by how his belly rises and falls with heavier breaths as he feels the warm humidity of your breath on the tip. 

You suck the head into your mouth and he inhales deeply.  You look up at him as you swirl your tongue around it, then curl your lips over your teeth and suck more of him into your mouth, abandoning eye contact.  You suck in as much of his shaft as you can and firmly drag your tongue along the underside as you bob your head.  His hips lift, gently pushing himself into your mouth in rhythm with your masterful work.  You suck from the back of your throat and manage not to gag as his tip slides down, making him grunt and clear his throat to stop from choking on his own saliva. The sight of you down there makes his mouth water, too.

“You’re so damn hot, baby,” he murmurs and brings his hand to the back of your head, gently guiding you into him.  “Fuck, baby. You got the prettiest mouth.”  And he has the filthiest. 

You drag your lips up to tease the head again, swirling your tongue, sucking hard, then taking more of his shaft.  “Wish you were sittin’ on my face right now,” he says.  You wouldn’t put it past him to try 69 in the bar.  “Told you I’d be hungry, baby.”  He already went down on you an hour ago before fucking you stupid.  He reads your mind.  “Had me a snack, but I need a feast.” 

“Mmm,” you hum into his cock and he inhales deeply.  You add power from your tongue and suction from your throat and he shudders.  

His fingertips tense, pressing firmer into the back of your head.  You look up and can tell he’s close.  He can fuck your face if he wants. His thrusts intensify and his mouth opens into a lazy string of, “Mmmmmm… ohhhhhh,” not loud but not quiet. 

The chatter of the boys dies down for a second then picks back up.  Your mouth focuses on his tip while you wrap your hand around his shaft. “Fuck yeah,” he sighs quieter, still thrusting into your mouth. “Ready, baby?”  You hum your agreement, sealing your lips tighter.  His shaft pulses in your hand and mouth, and you quietly moan “Mmm,” as his cum hits the back of your throat. 

When he’s finished coming, his head falls back against the booth, looking absently at the ceiling as he strokes your head affectionately. You tuck him back into his boxers and zip up his jeans, then climb back into the booth and he puts your legs in his lap.  Tommy comes over and hangs his arm over the booth.  

“You know we got a bathroom here, right?”

Joel replies, “Thought ya said people need to use it.”  When he slides out of the booth to get a drink, the front of his jeans are still shiny.

-

follow the #speakeasy!Joel☠️ tag for his other stories.

-

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy 

[inhuman-obey-me]

Can I ask for Lucifer and #20? Also congrats on hitting 100k likes!!! You guys deserve all the best things 💗 💓 💖 💛

Thank you so much!! 🥹❤️

Lucifer + 20 | "Infectious" - Imminence

"He's gotten into your head, Lucifer. Remember, he's a demon. They can't be trusted."

"But Father—"

"Silence. I won't hear anymore of it. Humor them if you must, but I will entertain this drivel no longer."

Perhaps Father was right, that all of this talk from the Demon Prince was merely idealistic nonsense, a way to manipulate the Celestial Realm into lowering their guard. What demon would want peace unless there was something deviously beneficial in it for them? And surely, if peace could be achieved, Father would have been the first to propose such an audacious and praiseworthy plan.

And yet, Lucifer finds himself in the Devildom once again, sitting across from the very demon he has been told explicitly not to trust above all others. Golden eyes beam at him, and he cannot help but compare them to the glow of an angel's halo. Ridiculous.

"Lucifer! It is so good to see you again. You remain as beautiful and radiant as ever. How fare's the Celestial Realm these days? Your brothers?"

"I'm only here for diplomacy's sake. Do not think I am here to be friends." Lucifer asserts as he inspects the tea served to him. "…And the Celestial Realm is doing as well as ever, same goes for my brothers."

"Of course." Diavolo gives him a polite, knowing smile. "Good to hear. Well then, shall we get started? I have so much I would like to discuss and share with you today."

It's strange how as the minutes pass, Lucifer finds himself slipping into a sense of comfort. He is an angel in enemy territory, but no matter how hard he tried to pick apart every word and action of the demon before him, he could not find deception or harmful intent. He had secretly come to enjoy these meetings, with Diavolo providing more pleasant company than even some of his fellow angels. More pleasant than Father.

He's gotten into your head.

"Diavolo." Lucifer abruptly interrupts. "What is truly your goal here?"

"Have I not made that quite clear?" Diavolo tilts his head ever-so-slightly. "Peace, for all Three Realms."

"And what do you gain from this?" He's desperate to find a flaw, a hidden truth. "What could the demons possibly gain from all of this, other than peace? It's not like you can be trusted."

"Ah, here again, are we?" Diavolo sighs, but there is no anger or frustration. "As hard as it might be for you to believe, I care about my people. I want to protect them, build a better future for them. They cannot have that if we continue the bloodshed as we have for centuries past. Peace benefits us all." The demon leans forward, his gaze inquisitive. "Is that not what you want? Considering how often you've visited, I assumed you felt the same."

"…I do." Lucifer clears his throat. "As hospitable as you've been, you cannot blame me for my doubts."

"Your doubts are understandable. Demons do not trust angels anymore than the angels trust demons. This plan for peace will take a lot of work and some willingness to cooperate, on all sides, but I believe it can be achieved one day." Diavolo smiles, and Lucifer knows it is sincere. "And I think, despite your hostility, you believe it too."

He did. He wanted to believe in it more than anything. He recalls what he thought on that first meeting with the prince — who here was the demon, and who was the angel? It was the beginning of it all, the first crack in the wall that the Celestial Realm and Father had so dutifully built over millennia. But why was it that every time he tried to convince Father that working towards peace was a worthwhile goal, he was silenced?

There's a tightness in Lucifer's chest, and he realizes that one of his worst fears was coming true.

His doubts were no longer in the Demon Prince and his goals — they were in Father and His.